Page 19 of Cutthroat

Jermaine chuckled, a dry humorless chuckle. “That’s just it Edy. My mom could’ve controlled her death by watching the company that she kept. She didn’t die. She was murdered. Murdered by my father.”

An unchewed piece of the crunchy taco slid down Eden’s throat making her choke. She coughed excessively trying to get the piece of chip dislodged from the wall of her esophagus. Eden knew that if she didn’t clear her air passages, she’d be joining Jermaine’s mother.

His admission had stunned her so severely that she couldn’t remember if she needed to chew her foodor just swallow it. Of all the things Jermaine could have said, she hadn’t expected him to say that. Discussions about his mother, Andrea Shelton, had always been a sore spot. When Jermaine did speak of her, he’d use soft phrases like “passed away”, “died suddenly”, or “went home to Heaven” to describe her death.

Because of his choice of words, she assumed Andrea died from either Cancer or natural causes. Worst case scenario, a car accident. Murder by the hands of her husband, his father, never once crossed her mind, especially since Jermaine claimed he never knew who his father was.

“Are you okay? Go get some water.” Jermaine suggested. The violent coughing coming from his wife had him concerned.

Clearing her throat and wiping the tears from her eyes, Eden began her follow-up questioning.

“I’m sorry, what you said caught me off guard. What do you mean your mom was murdered by your father? I thought you said you didn’t know your father. I’m your wife Jermaine. Why would you keep that part of your life from me?”

Jermaine sighed.

He knew he’d have to explain his family dynamics one day. He just wished he had made betterchoices and wasn’t sharing the most painful moment of his life as a way to save his marriage.

CHAPTER 9

“Edy, I love you. But love was not enough for me to share the worst part of my life. That tragedy happened twenty-two years ago; I still wasn’t ready to talk about it. I’m not ready to talk about it now, but you deserve the truth,” Jermaine admitted.

“I’m not trying to make you relive any childhood trauma. But as your wife, I’d like to help you heal from some of the hurt, or at least help you find the resources, if I can,” Eden said sounding as sincere as a nun feeding the less fortunate.

Jermaine could feel his eyes water. For years he had kept the horrors of his childhood locked away in hopes of forgetting the worst day of his life. But he knew, even though he had done her wrong, Eden would do her part in helping him heal. Swallowing his emotion, Jermaine cleared his throat and began to speak.

“I know that I told you I never knew my father. That was a lie. Lying about not knowing him was the only way I could erase his trifling ass from my life. It was the only way that he’d never be brought up in conversation. My father, Jerry Shelton, was an evil son of a bitch. But he wasn’t always that way. He used tobe a great hands-on father. Then he changed. After my brother was born, he was in a car accident, and when he came back, he was different.

He would physically and verbally abuse my mom, pick fights with me and my brother, or he’d literally steal the rent money and go on drug and alcohol fueled binges. I looked forward to the days he got drunk, that way I knew he wouldn’t come home, and we’d have some peace. Then one day, he came home drunk and nearly beat the skin off my mother’s face. I was eleven at the time and my brother was seven. I was helpless and powerless.

He was the only man that I ever feared. I knew there was nothing I could do, so I called the police to save my mom. He was so out of it, that after he had beaten my mother into unconsciousness, his unstable ass went in the bed in bloody clothes and fell asleep.

When the police came, he acted as if he didn’t know or understand why he was going to jail. For three weeks my Uncle Jackson stayed with us until my mom was released from the hospital. When she got out, she was unrecognizable. My mother had a fair complexion, like Marie’s, and Jerry had broken so many blood vessels in her face that it couldn’t be repaired. Her face was a purplish-hue when she returned home.

When I looked at her, I noticed that she wouldn’t look me in the face. She was embarrassed. Itwas my first time ever seeing that look. She always made excuses for Jerry’s actions. But he had gone too far that time and she knew it. My Uncle Jackson told us that Jerry was diagnosed with Bipolar Personality Disorder, Intermittent Explosive Disorder, and severe depression. But my mother didn’t care. She had had enough. She finally realized that her Christian values were bullshit.

My mother never cursed, but that day she said, “Jermaine, Josiah, I’m sorry that I kept that sorry motherfucker around. I should’ve been stronger, but I was scared. This was my eye opener. Everyone gets tired of dealing with other people’s bullshit. I’ll never let that piece of shit hurt this family again,”

I had never heard her speak that way before and I believed her. The house was his, so she packed all of our things: clothes, shoes, and all documentation needed to start a new life and we drove to Georgia.

I wish she was a woman of her word because had she been, she’d still be alive. For thirteen months, we lived a blissful life without him. While Josiah and I were living in peace, my mother was living in agony. She didn’t know how to live without her tormentor. My Uncle Jackson said my mother suffered from battered woman syndrome. And she’d sneak off and call him, not caring that she was putting us in danger. She didn’t realize that until it was too late,” Jermaine admitted.

Eden listened intently. She was so engrossed that she didn’t realize that her mouth was wide open.

“This is better than a damn movie.” Eden thought as she hung on to every word for dear life.

My mother was the only woman I knew that loved to grill. She’d cook on the grill 5-6 times a week. The day she was murdered; she had just taken our steaks, potatoes, and corn off the grill.

“Josiah, turn that Gameboy off and Jermaine go wash your hands. The food is ready.”

“Ok Ma,” I said before going down the hall to the guest bathroom. I wasn’t in the bathroom for thirty seconds before I heard,

CRASH!

“You thought you was gonna leave me bitch!”

“Jerry! No!!”

BOOM!

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