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Authors: Jason Wallace

Under the Cypress Moon (28 page)

BOOK: Under the Cypress Moon
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"So, you do admit that your head is up your ass?"

"Ok.  Enough.  I'm bein' serious.  No more ass jokes.  It's only really funny once.  No more fighting.  I'm not sayin' I'm up my own ass, but I'll admit that I've been an ass.  There."  Wiping his hands together as if to brush away the problems of late, Mark continued, "All done.  We're good now, I hope."

"I am if you are."

"I am.  Now, we should kiss.  It has been decreed."

"Oh, has it?  I didn't hear that."  Shylah moved a little bit closer, her lips now coming within an inch of Mark's.

"Yep.  It has.  I decreed it, and of course, I am King in this house."

"Not really.  You're more like the Prince, and if you're the Prince, then I'm the Princess."

"No.  That'd make us brother and sister, and that would be wrong."

"Oh, would it," Shylah asked, nearly laughing as hard as Mark had.  "I doubt that stopped some people in your family."

"That is sick!  That is really sick!  And for your information, it was only Uncle Jimmy Ray and Aunt Sally.  We don't talk about 'em much."

"Ewww.  Now, I really know what they mean by down home lovin'!"

"I'll give you some down home lovin'... on the oven!"

"Mmmm.  Well, we do have making up to do, don't we," Shylah rhetorically asked, leaning in to kiss Mark for the first time in many hours.  Within seconds, however, a shout could be heard.

"Mama!  Mama!" The shouts grew louder and louder, continuing several more times before Mark and Shylah stopped listening.

"Mama," Shylah asked.

"I guess I forgot to tell you about how he was actin' while you were gone last night.  His mind is already slippin'.  Duty calls."

"Go do what you gotta do, Baby," Shylah ordered, smacking Mark directly on his backside.  "Just bring that sexy ass back here.  I'll be waiting!"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

Shylah, somewhat relieved at having some caffeine to kick start her day, yet unhappy at having to send Mark away, prepared a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table, occupying her mind with a million things, slowly sipping away.

"Yes, Daddy," Mark asked as he entered Thomas' room once more.

"Where's Mama?"

"Whose mama, Daddy?"

"Mama!  Where is Mama?!"

"Daddy, your mama's been dead for a number of years.  Don't you remember us buryin' her?  It's been more'n three years."

"I just saw her yesterday!  Where is she?!"

"Want me to go find her, Daddy?"

"Yes, Michael.  Go find your grandmama.  I need to tell her somethin'."

"Ok, Daddy."  Mark hesitated for a second, a part of him still wanting to clear up the matters at hand and get Thomas to see who he was and that there was no one to search for, but Mark reminded himself that it would do no good.  Nothing could be done except to humor Thomas and leave him the way that he was.  However, Mark suddenly thought that Thomas might not be getting enough nutrition strictly from his I.V.s.  "Daddy, you want me to bring you somethin' to eat?"

"Just go find my mama, Michael!"

"Ok, Daddy.  I'll see if I can find her.  Yell if you need somethin' else."

"Always such a good boy, Michael.  Good boy."

It pained Mark tremendously that his father both did not recognize him and that he could only think of Michael who had been gone for so long.  Thomas doted so much on Michael while he was alive, showering far more time, energy, and attention onto the older son than onto the younger.  Mark walked back into the kitchen, his head low, his eyes welling with tears.

"What's the matter, Baby," Shylah exclaimed upon seeing Mark's downtrodden face.

"Him."

"Your dad?"

"Yeah."

"What's goin' on now?"

With a great huff, Mark pulled himself together enough to reply, "He keeps thinkin' I'm Michael.  He keeps callin' me Michael and talkin' about what a good boy Michael is.  He hardly ever said a good word to or about me my whole life.  I know his mind is gone, but he remembers my brother that's been dead for a long time and can't even remember the son that's here, takin' care of him!"

"That's how it happens sometimes, Honey.  You gotta take the bad with the good.  You know in his heart, he still knows who you are, and he loves you.  He just can't remember much anymore.  You're doin' what God wants you to do.  You're honoring your father, just like it says in the Commandments."

"Well, why isn't there a part about honoring your son?  I've done nothin' but try to please him my whole life.  I just want him to at least kind of remember or show some appreciation, somethin'.  What do I do here?  I know what I'm supposed to do and what I have to do. I just wish there was an easier way.  I'll be ok, I guess.  Time for more coffee and a smoke.  That always cheers me up."

"What'd he want anyway," Shylah sheepishly asked, hoping not to irritate Mark, though her curiosity was running wild.

"He wanted me to look for Grandma Agnes."

"Hasn't she been dead for like three or four years?!"

"Exactly."

"Well, just come sit here with me, Babe, and enjoy a nice, hot cup of coffee.  I'll get it for you, if you want."  Shylah had already gotten up from her chair before Mark could answer yes or no.

"Thank you, Baby."

"Not a problem," Shylah quickly
assured, giving Mark a passionate and long-lasting kiss before proceeding to the counter with Mark's cup.  "Anything for my man."

"I really am sorry about last night.  I want you to know that, Shy."

"It's... ok, Baby.  We've both said our sorries, but what's with the 'Shy?'"

"That's what your brother used to call you.  I thought I'd try it out."

"I never liked it even when he did it.  He did it cuz he knew it annoyed the hell out of me!"

"Oh yeah.  Damnit.  Sorry, Babe. I forgot.  No more.  Don't worry.  How about just Baby?"

"That's fine.  Baby is always fine," Shylah replied, smiling happily, heading back with Mark's nearly overflowing cup.

"Now, I guess I can't get T. to start callin' you that again.  Hmmmm."

"You mention anything about 'Shy' to him, and I'll kill you.  I'll kill you dead where you stand, Mark!"

"You would not."

"The hell I wouldn't.  I'll kill you slowly.  No cookin', no sexin', no nothin'!"  Shylah grinned from ear to ear as she said this, bestowing a lingering smirk of amusement.

"Oh.  I better watch myself then," Mark said, pulling Shylah onto his lap.  "Hello there."

"Hi.  You must like me in this position.  We keep meeting like this."

"Well, if I had to pick a position for you to be in, I don't know.  I could think of a lot of other ones."  Mark leaned in before he got to his second sentence, his lips hovering just above Shylah's, their eyes fixated on one another.

"You have beautiful eyes, Baby," Shylah remarked.

"The better to see you with.  And you see this tongue... the better to eat... nevermind."

"You start it, you finish it!  The better to what now?"

"Nothin'."

"Fine.  Be that way.  Spoil the fun.  So, my love, what do you want to do today?  Whatever shall we do with our time?"

"Well, Babe, unfortunately, you're gonna have to stay here with my dad while I go to the plant and try to get a start on fixin' all the problems.  Did I not tell you that?"

"No, you didn't.  That's great.  Have fun gettin' to leave.  So, what do I do all day while you're gone?  Your dad mostly sleeps.  It's not gonna leave me with much."

"Watch
TV."

"Ugh."

"Read a book."

"Maybe.  What ya got?"

"You'll have to look around.  I have a few in my room.  There's some in the living room.  Take your pick.  They're mostly guy books, but you might find somethin'.  If not, there's always the computer.  There's one in the living room and my laptop in my bedroom.  Do whatever you want.  As long as you're here just in case my dad needs somethin', do anything else you want when he's asleep.  And if he gives you trouble, like maybe calls you some bad words or somethin', just please ignore it.  Just realize how bad his mind is right now."  Mark knew this to be quite a possibility.  In Thomas' state of returning to distant memories, there was a good chance that he would resort to his fondness for treating those he deemed inferior exactly as he saw them, which left Mark to wonder if he had truly had a transformation.

"You mean, like he might call me a you know what?"

"Sexy woman?"

"Haha.  No.  That's what you call me.  I mean, like he might call me that word I hate so much that a lot of white people like to call my people.  That one particular word."

"Oh, that.  Yeah.  There is probably a good chance of that, but please keep in mind he doesn't mean it if he does say it.  I swear if he says it, he's not in the right state of mind.  Know that it's not how he really feels now, and it's never how I felt, ever!  I think that word is just as ugly as you do.  It's wrong, and it's around so one group of people can keep another group down and keep them under their feet.  It's wrong in every way.  I know God has to hate that word.  It's like some guy tried to think up the worst thing possible, somethin' so offensive that it would make God Himself turn up his nose at the sound of it.  You got me, Baby, and I'll do anything and everything I can to always protect you, but unfortunately, I can't always be around to protect you every time somebody uses that word.  Just tell yourself to do what Jesus would do and forgive and forget.  Ok?  It doesn't mean anything or say anything about you if he or anybody else says it.  It just shows their own ignorance.  I hope and pray that my dad has really changed, and I do think that he probably has.  If he hasn't really changed, it's his problem when he goes before the Lord, not yours."  As Mark landed a gentle kiss on Shylah's forehead, he added, "You are beautiful," and with another kiss, "You are amazing," with another, "You are sweet," and landing another kiss, "You are the best thing God ever brought into my life!" 

The two locked lips so strongly that they could not be torn apart.  Mark could not help but stare at Shylah as he kissed her, though Shylah's eyes remained closed.  Mark was in utter awe of the beauty before him and so thankful for such a blessing.  Oddly enough, Mark said a silent prayer to God, thanking Him for all that He had brought and bestowed, all the while, continuing to kiss Shylah.

"You love me that much, huh," Shylah asked, reaching for Mark's neck the best that she could.

"I've loved you too long to even begin to tell you.  I love you more than there are stars in the sky.  I love you more than I love coffee.  What does that say?"

"That much, huh?  But how can you love me so much if we've only been together a short while?"

"Because I can.  I know what I want, and what I want is you, all of you, for all of time.  You're it for me.  You know, there was a time, well, more like lots of times, back in high school, when I used to think 'if only she wasn't T.L.'s little sister, and if only she wasn't so young.'" 

"Well, I'm not too young now, am I?"

"Nope.  And I guess T.L. has no problem with it, so we're all good, Baby.  You're allowed to love me now.  I knew that one day, you'd be unable to resist my charms.  I knew you'd sit around thinkin' 'if only Mark would ask me out, my life would be complete.'  It was somethin' like that, right?"

"Oh yeah.  You know it.  I've been waiting for all these years.  In a way, I guess, I actually have.  I told you before I used to think you were so hot, and I had kinda a thing for you."  Shylah pulled herself up by Mark's neck and planted a deep and lasting kiss.

"Well, you got me now, and you can go back and tell the teenage you that she's gonna get what she wants one day.  Maybe it'll give her more hope."  Mark had a way of saying just the right things to both fill Shylah with joy and make her want to constantly burst at the seams with laughter.

"I'll get right on that.  You left the time machine parked out front, didn't you?"

"Yep.  Somewhere out there, don't really remember where exactly."

"I'll do that while you're gone.  You won't even know it.  I'll come back to right now so we can do this again."  At that, Shylah gently kissed Mark back.

"While you're at it, see if you can find T.L.'s hair."

"Don't make fun of my brother!  He's got enough without worryin' about hair.  His hair got scared of his ugly face and ran away.  That's all."

"You can make fun of him, but I can't?"

"I don't know.  I guess I can let you make fun of him, too.  It wouldn't be enough fun if only I did it."

"I was gonna say, you may be his sister, but believe it or not, I've known him longer than you have."

"So?  All that means is that you're old.  You are like what... forty or fifty now?"

"Uh huh.  You keep sayin' that stuff.  What does it say that you're with me then?"

"It says I like older men.  There's nothin' wrong with it or with you bein' old.  While you're out today, don't forget your adult diapers and your hemorrhoid creams and denture creams and stuff."  With another kiss, Shylah pulled herself upward and climbed off of Mark's lap.

BOOK: Under the Cypress Moon
12.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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