The whole while she and Mercy had made their way from Dallas into Houston, Mercy was more than begging Stoney to tell her what was going on.
“My campus isn’t this way, Stoney. Why aren’t you listening to me? where are we going?” Mercy looked from the roads ahead back to Stoney, who seemed to be overly focused on the same. “Slow down.”
“I can’t,” she said in a daze. “I’ll lose him,” Stoney said, licking her lips as if she were one of the drivers in a NAS-CAR race.
“Who? who is he, Stoney?” Mercy worryingly asked, afraid of the answer.
“Keithe. I’m going to lose him if I don’t stay close,” Stoney muttered.
Thinking as hard as she could, Mercy couldn’t figure where she’d heard the name Keithe before. “Stoney. Who is Kei—” it hit her. Their last bit of research concluded with a Keithe as next of kin for Michelle, Stoney’s mother.
“Huh?” Stoney took her eyes off the crowded expressway for a moment. “He’s my mom’s husband.”
Tears already began to make their home on Mercy’s lap, and her worst nightmare was coming true right before her. Recalling the file the two had started on Stoney’s mother, a Keithe Morgan had been linked to Michelle by marriage. Grabbing her pregnant belly, Mercy said a word of prayer. “Lord. Help us right now, dear God. We need you. Stoney needs you to comfort her pain right this minute, Lord. Come in, God, and take control of this situation. Dear God, show us the way…your way, Lord.”
“Would you shut up, Mercy?” Stoney shouted, then retracted with an, “I’m sorry, but he ain’t listening to you. He don’t hear you. God is not interested in helping me out, so keep your prayers, Mercy.”
“That is just not true, Stoney. It’s not true. Jesus cares about you; you have to allow him to care about you. Walk in his love.” Trying her best to calm down Stoney, Mercy’s hidden texts to her dad were the only things that kept her hope alive.
“You walk in his love. I’m going to find my mother.” She looked through dilated eyes toward Mercy. Drugged up on prescription drugs and running off of no sleep, Stoney was too wired for Mercy to talk her down.
When Mercy went for her phone, and showed signs of more texting, Stoney took one hand off of the steering wheel and snatched Mercy’s phone away.
“Stoney!”
“You will not hinder me. Everyone has hindered me! no more.” She threw Mercy’s cell phone over her head and into the back window, sending pieces flying.
At that very moment, all Stoney could remember was the look of being terrified that was placed on Mercy’s face. At the point when she followed Keithe into one of Houston’s suburbs, Mercy was in full panic mode, and Stoney was extra hype and almost riding his bumper.
Not worried about him identifying her because of a baseball cap and Mercy’s car, Stoney stayed as close as possible.
Not able to get into the gated community after Keithe’s car had accelerated past the coded lockdown, Stoney stopped the car in the middle of the street and got out. Not once did she look back.
Retrieving the files from Mercy’s computer, Stoney recalled the house’s address from memory and eased herself through the gate and started half jogging. Seeing Keithe’s taillights, she followed him as much as she could.
Left alone in the car, Mercy tried to get her breath under control. Jumping out of the passenger’s side and running around the car, Mercy sat behind the wheel and turned on her headlights. The day had turned to dusk. Reversing her Volkswagen Beetle, Mercy drove down the road until she came to the nearest convenience store.
As soon as she had made her way around the small neighborhood of winding homes, Stoney found the house owned by Keithe and Michelle. Peering behind the bushes, in the dusk of the day, Stoney was confused when she saw Keithe pulling out of the driveway from barely settling for all of a minute. When the taillights of his vehicle disappeared, Stoney looked backward, not knowing if she should go toward the direction from which she came. Knowing Mercy was long gone, Stoney became scared and then sad. All which lasted every bit of a minute.
Picking up a large stick before walking from behind the bush, Stoney walked across the street until she reached the front door. When she found it locked, she walked backward until she thought about the garage door Keithe had clicked open. Off to her left, Stoney made her way to the open entrance.
Little by little, Stoney walked through the halls and listened in her unfamiliar surroundings. Easing her body through doors until she found a closet built off the living area, Stoney stood in the dark, thinking of her next move.
The house was quiet. With no children of their own, the large house only held noises made by the settling of the foundation. Stoney had waited and waited for the perfect opportunity to finally be alone with her mother, and her plan fell right into place. With Keithe away from the house, Stoney sat in the closet, trying to come up with a plan that would allow her an opportunity she’d waited most of her life for.
Listening was what Stoney did. She waited and listened for doors to open or shut…something. She waited for the footsteps that would let her know her mother was in the house. Placed inside of a disclosed utility closet, Stoney waited.
Then there it was. More of a scooting sound, Stoney heard footsteps pass by the door and continued without echoing as if they’d descended from the staircase nearby. Stoney listened. Closing her teary eyes, she thought about all the questions she’d want to ask. All of the subject matter that had plagued her mind while growing up. Today was the day that her worries, her desires, her wants would be answered.
No doubt, Stoney, as a young girl, had wanted to connect with her mother. The feeling had always been on her mind, to the point it stained her heart. But within the last few months, knowing Michelle didn’t care, nor let the world know that she had even existed, Stoney felt even more neglected. Even more, she felt downright cheated.
Mimicking words of Grandma Susie, Stoney’s eyes were more than bucked in the darkness of the closet. “She don’t want you, why you think you here with me?” she mocked. “Oh, Grandma Susie, why did you have to say that? I know, I know, it wasn’t you. It was the medicine,” Stoney answered in the way her grandmother had on so many occasions. With her hands shaking from nervousness, it didn’t take long before Stoney’s twinkling eyes took effect.
Blinking uncontrollably and feeling the cool air throughout the closet, Stoney gripped the handle of the small but thick stick she’d picked up on her way through the neighborhood. She still didn’t know why she had it, or why she even picked it up. All she wanted to do was to ask her mom some questions, then she’d be on her merry way. Maybe she’d picked it up for protection? Knowing the devil liked to rear his head, Stoney made herself believe it was for her own protection. But she knew better.
She wanted Michelle to feel all of the aches and pain that her own heart had endured throughout life. Longing for the hugs and forehead kisses as only a mother can give, Stoney was betrayed by a mother who didn’t want her, and a grandmother who just took her, wanting to help, but couldn’t because her mind wouldn’t allow her to.
Once she heard the voice of someone, Stoney held her breath. Realizing the blare was coming from a television, Stoney envisioned Michelle sitting in the grand living room in front of the set she had seen while sneaking in. With the turn of the doorknob, the creak that sounded no longer mattered to Stoney. She took her chances.
With her body on the other side of the door, having shed her shoes inside of the closet, Stoney paced her bare feet as they made contact with the cool and wooded floors. A blouse long enough to be a dress hid the shape she once had. Tears streamed down her face as she made conversation in her mind.
Stoney, now you know that God don’t like ugly. You gots to get it together, go on with your future. If she don’t want you, she just don’t want you, her medicated soul tried to reason.
Stoney replied in a small whisper. “This lady done hurt you, left you for nothing, with nothing, all because of nothing. Uh-uh. I ain’t letting it go.” She put a little pep in her barefoot step.
With no shoes or socks on, Stoney eased forward until she was a good enough distance not to be sensed, but close enough to know that Michelle, her mother, was alone. When she heard the television, Stoney couldn’t help but focus past the back of her mother’s head and glue her eyes on the set to the person speaking.
“In your reading, 1 Peter, verses 15-16. The word calls for us to be holy, for our God is holy. Don’t look to your neighbor, but ask yourself, am I holy?”
Am I holy? Stoney silently asked herself, and then shook her head, thinking it was crazy of her to participate in a television sermon when she was on a mission.
“What does it profit a man to gain the world and lose his soul? Is your soul saved? aren’t we worth more than that?” the television blared. “Aren’t we worth more than the cares of this world? The homes in which we live? am I holy? Don’t ask what someone can give you materialistically. Ask if they can show you holiness.”
Stoney shrugged and felt the message wasn’t for her, but then looked around the house in which she’d broken into. The finer things in life were what Michelle had obviously chosen over raising her. About to start her short journey again, Stoney halted once the preacher spoke again.
“Let me share this with you. Saints of God, we are a chosen generation. The life you were given was no mistake. The family you grew up a part of was no mistake. It may have been full of the devil’s dwelling, molestation may have played its part, your parents may have provoked you, but the good news is that even though we are carnally birthed, Jesus died so that we could be born again.
“If you were the one molested or the one doing the molesting, God can change you, purify you, purge you, and set you free. If you felt you were abandoned, or the one doing the abandoning, know that God can cover you. He can be your mother. He can be your caretaker. Know he can bring your children back, and make your family whole.”
The words dug deep for both Michelle and Stoney. Michelle sat up on the curved sofa and listened to the preacher speak life into her situation. Being the one who did the abandoning, Michelle squinted her eyes and just thought. Stoney who was standing no more than seven feet away from her mother plastered on a face of want. On different levels, both had felt what the evangelist had allowed to seep through his spirit.
Snuggled under a blanket with only her head appearing, Michelle sat off to Stoney’s right, propped by sofa pillows. Focusing in on her mother, Stoney thought the present time would have been the perfect opportunity to get the answers she needed, the answers she wanted. With the point of the remote, Michelle was about to change the channel until a lady came on stage.
“The stone,” the sung words flowed through the set, “that the builders refused,/has become the head corner.” The words of the psalmist lingered.
Being a lover of gospel music herself, Stoney’s mind wouldn’t allow her to lose focus on the unfamiliar song that was coming forth. Stunned by the words, the melody, and the meaning, Stoney froze in her footsteps, unable to move. Stoney’s boisterous attempt into getting into her mother’s world was halted once her thoughts were surrounded with the lyrics. The song ministered. It was as if it had spoken directly to her.
With the song rekindling feelings in her hours before, Michelle couldn’t believe in the odds of a woman now mimicking the very song. It wasn’t until she heard the sniffles of someone behind her that she became coherent. Violently pushing herself from the sofa, Michelle was afraid to make a move.
Realizing she had made a noise, Stoney was shocked herself when Michelle turned around. Raising her hands, wanting, needing Michelle to recognize her tears as the pain only a child could have for her mother, Stoney lost her voice and was unable to make her announcement. Opening her arms, Stoney thought Michelle would make her way into them.
“Who are you?” Michelle screamed at the top of her lungs while jumping from the sofa. Not having time to put her slippers on, Michelle stopped in her tracks once she saw the stick in Stoney’s hand. “I said who are you? say something. I’m calling the police.” Michelle started her small jog around the sofa, which brought her in close proximity with Stoney. “Oh, God,” Michelle called out when she saw a stunned and still crying Stoney walking rapidly toward her.
“I…I…” was the only word Stoney managed to release. Raising her hands, longing for Michelle, Stoney forgot about the timber wood being in her grasp. Close up on her mother, Stoney tried to reach for Michelle.
“Stop it! Get away from me.” Michelle fought off Stoney, who wasn’t fighting at all but rather trying to embrace Michelle in the midst of crowded tear ducts. “Get your hands off me. Who are you?” Michelle demanded once more.
“Ke…Keithe,” Stoney whispered, wanting to explain her very beginning to Michelle.
“Keithe? My husband.” They both stopped the struggle.
“Stoney,” was all the young girl was able to share.
Not able to catch her breath and complete a sentence, when Michelle heard “Stoney” release from the girl’s mouth, she couldn’t hold back.
“Are you kidding me?” Michelle pushed Stoney. “Are you my husband’s girlfriend?” she yelled. “Get out! Get out!”
Confused and not understanding where Michelle was coming from, placing her as Keithe’s girlfriend, Stoney became angry. She started pushing back. She thought her mother would recognize her name. When Michelle didn’t, and with the stick in her hand, Stoney’s frustration and anger, spun with pills, pain, and disappointment, motivated her to lift the timber wood and strike her mother over the head.
“Jesus,” Michelle called out as the blood poured from the open gash. Able to push Stoney several feet away, Michelle ran toward the stairwell and climbed the stairs two at a time. Finding herself in her bedroom, Michelle placed an emergency call.
Unable to make another sound, realizing what she had done, Stoney stood in the middle of the room until the swirl of the room consumed her vision. Stoney blacked out and remained unconscious, unable to give her part of the story once the police and ambulance made it to the Morgan doorstep.