Journals of the Secret Keeper (13 page)

"Why would she send the journals about me
to Atlanta, Georgia, when she could have just left
them here for me" he asked.
Willetta had no answer for it. It seemed odd
to her too. "Maybe the answers are in the journals,"
she said.
Andrik pulled out the first journal in his
group and the first one in Willetta's group. He
handed her the journal from the Willetta group and
settled beside her on the couch with his own.
A strange feeling of uneasiness came over
Willetta. The feeling gave way to fear and she
dropped the journal.
"Andrik, when did Gwenneth say Mama
Jean sent her these journals," she asked.
"A year ago. What's wrong with you," he
asked. "You look scared."
"I am. How did she know we would be
together?"
Andrik stretched his long legs out before
him. The starched white shirt was irritating him.
He wished he had changed clothes. He had
discarded his jacket and tie hours ago. He
unbuttoned his shirt and slipped out of it, leaving
his undershirt on.
"Willetta, she couldn't have known we
would be together," he said, but he wasn't as
convinced as he sounded.
"Well, I think she did. I want to ask you
something," she said quietly. Willetta had a
disturbing thought and she just couldn't dispel it.
"What is it," he said. Andrik didn't like the
look on her face. It was making him
uncomfortable.
"What if you found out that every moment
of your life had been arranged even down to the
woman you would marry? What would you do,"
she asked.
Andrik's heart slammed against his ribs.
Realization dawned slowly and he understood what
Willetta was thinking. "This is the year twothousand seven. People don't do that anymore.
Plus, I make my own decisions," he blustered.
"Didn't you come home, when Mama Jean
asked you to," she reminded him.
It was on the tip of his tongue to say he
would have anyway, because his father had died.
But then he remembered Stanley Thomas had not
been his real father and Mama Jean knew that. Yet,
she had been the one to ask him to come home and
stay for a while. It wasn't long afterwards that she
started badgering him about Willetta. She had
painted a very wrong picture of Willetta too. When
he'd finally met her, he couldn't believe his eyes.
The element of surprise had certainly worked,
because Willetta had slipped underneath his skin
and at this point he didn't care if it was prearranged
or not, he wanted her.
"It doesn't matter, Willetta. Let's just read
the journals. We can sort it all out later," he said.
There was no denying that Mama Jean had for the
most part orchestrated his life. He had come to that
conclusion on his own. It did nothing for his male
ego and he wasn't about to discuss it with Willetta.
He bent to retrieve the journal she dropped
and placed it in her lap. He watched as she opened
her journal and began reading. After a moment or
two he opened his own journal and a piece of paper
fell onto his lap. It was brown with time.
#

July 28, 1971
Dear Momma,
Please take care of Anita. I promised that I would
marry her even though she is pregnant. I love her
and I want her and the child to be safe and
comfortable.
The baby is not mine. We were
trying to wait until we got married, but Anita came
to me one night crying and bleeding. She'd been
raped. She wouldn't tell me who did it, but she said
he was drunk. I've been angry and messed up on
the inside ever since. I don't love her any less, but
God forbid if I ever find out who did this to her.
You know Anita's daddy is mean and self-righteous.
He won't show her no mercy. I love you, Momma
and I trust you will do right by my girl..
Your son,
Richard Myers

Andrik's whole body shook. The strangled
noise that rose up from his chest was loud and
animalistic. He got up off the couch and took long
quick strides across the room.

Willetta sat immobilized and stunned until
she heard the door downstairs slam. She had been
so engrossed in her journal she had forgotten
Andrik was sitting beside her. She picked up the
paper he'd thrown down and began to read. After
seeing Ricky Myers today, the implications of the
letter were clear. There had to be an accounting for
the likeness in the two men. Her stomach heaved
and Willetta knew she was going to be sick. She
ran to the bathroom.
CHAPTER 33

Volume 4, pg. 1 (February 1972):
"When
Ricky saw the baby, he ran. I was glad, because
there was no telling what I would have done. Poor
Anita. The child just wept and told me everything.
I took her in my arms and sang lullabies to her and
to myself. We two heartbroken women. I hope
Ricky got sense enough to stay away. "

Martha heard the door slam. It was a fierce
intrusion upon her ruminations and her body
trembled. She'd been deep in thought about Ricky
Myers. The sight of him had wiped out her reserve
of energy and emotion. It left her a tired old
woman.

She listened into the night and there was no
other sound. She shifted in the bed and pulled the
covers up under her chin.
She'd seen the look of
shock on Ricky's face when he saw Andrik at the
funeral. It had been too satisfying to her. It must
have been frightening to see the past staring him
right in the face.

Martha sighed into the night. "Martha old
girl you can't judge. That'd be like the pot calling
the kettle black."

She turned onto her side and slid her hands
beneath her head. She lay in the fetal position and
thought. Maybe that's why she and Ricky were still
alive. Maybe they still had some bills to pay. Her
plan had been to get the journals and destroy them,
but now that was impossible. She was too old to be
playing cowboy and Indian games with Andrik and
Willetta. There was no telling what those two
might do to her if they caught her tampering with
the journals.

She could leave before they found the truth,
but that was too much like the same-old-same-old.
She would just stay put and face the music. It was a
shame because they liked her now and she loved
them. Andrik was everything Ricky had not been.
He was conscientious. He didn't drink or smoke.
He was clean. He treated Willetta like gold. He
was even good to her. She knew he still didn't trust
her and that was fine, because she'd never been one
to trust anyway. It just proved his ability to read
people was on cue.

Willetta was a balm to her bruised soul. Just
the sight of her made Martha's heart skip with
gladness. It made her feel that she had done
something right, because without her there would
have been no Willetta. Martha was proud for the
first time in her life. She had no idea how Mama
Jean had gotten Willetta and Andrik together, but it
was clear they were perfect for one another. Martha
hoped she lived long enough to see them married.
She felt deep within her soul that their union would
wipe away the long years of dissension and scandal
that prey upon the family.

Suddenly, light from the hall flooded her
room. "Martha, are you awake." It was Willetta.
"Yes, child. What's wrong," she said.
Willetta turned the light on and crossed the
room to Martha's bed. "Grandma, please tell me
you didn't know," she cried. Willetta's eyes were
red from crying.
"Didn't know what," Martha was alarmed.
Willetta had never called her grandma before and
she was obviously upset.
"That…That Ricky Myers is Andrik's father.
That he raped Anita," she whispered.
Martha screamed.
Willetta made a
strangling sound of distress. "He's hurt, grandma.
He ran out the house and I can't find him. Please
come with me so we can talk to him."
Martha was struggling to regain her breath.
"You telling me that Ricky Myers raped Anita,
when he knew she was going to marry his son?" she
wheezed.
"He was drunk," Willetta cried.
"That ass!" Martha screamed again. "I been
sitting up there thinking I was bad. He was the bad
one. I don't care how drunk a man get, he still
know what he doing. Get my shoes and the keys.
We fixing to go wake up some old people."
Willetta got on her knees and dug around
underneath the bed for Martha's shoes. She wasn't
exactly sure what she was getting herself into, but
she didn't feel like just going to bed after such
devastating news. If Martha planned on confronting
Ricky Myers, Willetta was all for it.
"It's a wonder it didn't kill poor Jean. I see
why she left Andrik under the care of Stanley.
Stanley would have killed Ricky, if he knew. He
loved Richard. But he hated Anita. He thought she
had been disloyal to Richard. Oh lord, my poor
Jean had to make some tough decisions," she said
breathlessly.
Martha stopped and held on to the door
frame until her breath went back to normal. She
was worked up and it wasn't good for someone her
age. She told herself to calm down. Finally, she
stood up straight and stepped into the hallway.
She and Willetta made their way down the
stairs and into the foyer. The door opened as they
reached for it and Andrik stepped in. He stood
before them with a selfdepricating look upon his
face.
Martha looked up into the face that had
become dear to her and her heart bled. She
swallowed and leaned heavily upon Willetta. She
gave a quick prayer for the strength to say what she
was about to say.
"Andrik, the day of a man's death is better
than his birth. Do you know why?"
Andrik didn't answer. He just looked at her
as if he was looking through her. He wanted to
push pass both of them and go to his rooms, but
something in Willetta's face stilled him. She had a
look of determination that was oddly out of place.
He had expected to see pity. If he had seen pity in
her face, it would have sent him into the rage he
was trying to control.
"When a man dies, people know all about
him and what he did with his life. A baby comes
with a clean slate. You came with a clean slate,"
she finished. She hoped it would be enough to take
the look of self-disgust off his face.
"That's not true," he said. "I'm the product
of a rape."
Martha snatched her arm from Willetta and
reached up and slapped him as hard as she could
across the face. "Just stop it! You didn't suffer like
Anita, your momma, did. Don't be stupid. That
woman loved Richard. To have been raped by his
father, must have killed her on the inside. And
think about how Jean felt when she found out. She
was still mourning her only child's death.
In spite
of all that hurtin, those two women did what they
had to do to protect you. So, I don't want to see you
standing up here acting like the victim. You wasn't
the victim!"
"I was a victim," Andrik yelled into her face.
"Your son hated me and he made it clear he hated
me. From as far back as I can remember, the man I
thought was my father, detested the sight of my
face.
He felt I ruined his life," he said bitterly.
Martha's shoulders sagged and she just
shook her head. "This is what comes with keeping
secrets. The truth gets harder and harder to find.
Andrik, Stanley didn't hate you. Don't you see that
he couldn't love you? He couldn't enjoy you. He
had accidentally killed Richard. Then he was
forced to marry the woman he thought betrayed
Richard. He didn't know she was raped. They
didn't tell him. He drew the only conclusion he
could. So, he hated himself, Anita, and Ricky, but
never you. I got a letter upstairs that he sent to me.
You need to read it," she said.
"So, he knew I wasn't Richard's child?"
Andrik laughed without humor and shook his head.
"He and Richard were like brothers. He
knew Richard and Anita were waiting until they got
married," she explained.
"Well, I'm not reading anymore letters. I
don't want the journals either. I just want to live my
life," he growled.
"You ain't got to read nothing then, but I
know what I'm fixing to do. I'm going to that
nursing home right now and me and that dusty old
Ricky gone get to scrapping. Y'all get your bail
money ready. Don't leave me sitting in jail," she
said.
That got Andrik's attention. The pulse in his
temple throbbed and his lips trembled as he held
back real laughter. Martha and Willetta didn't miss
the sudden twinkle in his eye. They pushed on past
him anyway, because business was business.
CHAPTER 34
Volume 4, pg. 1 (March 1972):
"Ferguson
M osley came by today. He made a big show of
disowning Anita and the baby. He got so worked
up he spit at Anita's feet to make his point. That's
when I picked up a broom and ran him out of the
house."
#
Andrik's pride didn't allow him to go with
Martha and Willetta. The clock showed nine-thirty
and any nursing home worth its salt wouldn't let
anyone in at this hour. So, he gave Willetta the
directions to the only nursing home in Clarksdale
and washed his hands of their high drama. He was
wiped out emotionally anyway. To think that
Willetta and his mother both had endured the same
crime and that he was a product of such a crime was
a painful realization.
He climbed the stairs intent on retreat. He
didn't want to see or talk to anybody for a long
while. The last thing he wanted to do was go to see
the man responsible for his birth.
He knew
depression was settling in upon him and he was
unable to divert the tide as it rushed on in. As he
entered his room, the sight of the journals and the
suitcase they came in made his stomach turn. It
would have been better if he'd never known
anything. He put the journals none too gently back
into the suitcase and dragged the whole thing out
into the hallway. Reentering his room, he slammed
the door violently.
#
Due to its dismal decline, the nursing home
had no nighttime security. The two glass front
doors were not locked and the front desk was
vacant.
Willetta was appalled at the obvious
disregard for the safety of the elderly people
therein.
She and Martha walked the hallway and
heard the moaning and groaning of some of the
patients. The smell was acrid and that of urine and
feces. Martha shook her head and held on tight to
Willetta's arm.
"I hope I don't never end up in no place like
this," she whispered.
Suddenly a very tall and thin white man
turned the corner and came to an abrupt halt before
them. His blue scrub and name tag identified him
as one of the employees. "Can I help you," he
asked nonchalantly.
"We're looking for Ricky Myer's room,"
Willetta said simply.
"Kinda late to be visiting don't you think,"
he said. His eyes were hard and he had a look of
impatience upon his face. He obviously did not like
his job.
"We buried his wife today and wanted to
make sure he was okay," she said. Willetta knew
she and Martha looked very suspicious, but she
pressed on.
"Well, he happens to be awake. He's been a
lot of trouble today. More trouble than usual.
Maybe you can calm him down," he said carelessly
and shrugged his shoulders. "Keep on going around
this corner. His room is on the right. Number
twenty-five," he shrugged again and made a
clicking noise with his tongue.
His eyes gave
Willetta the creeps. He continued to stand and
stare.
"Is there something else," Willetta asked
dismissively.
"No. I just didn't know he had relatives.
That's all," he said flatly. Then he was gone.
Martha's hold on Willetta's arm was
becoming painful and she understood her fear.
As
nursing homes go, this was a cesspool pit.
"We're here now," Willetta said as they
entered the room.
The sight that met them was unbelievable.
Mr. Ricky Myers was tied to the bed and tears
poured down his face. When he caught sight of
Martha he tried to turn his head away.
"Ricky," Martha cried out. "What they doin
to you?"
"Get out," he whispered.
"I came here prepared to hate you and to tell
you that, but I can't leave you like this. This here is
too much even for a man like you," she cried.
Willetta suddenly felt like an intruder. She
felt the strong undercurrents between Ricky and
Martha and didn't know what it meant. Ricky
remained stonily silent as Martha cursed him and
tearfully untied his restraints. She laid a trembling
hand upon the curly gray hair of his head.
Ricky released a pent-up sigh of relief and
ran his hand across his tear-stained face.
He and
Martha stared at each other and neither said a word
for a long while.
"Martha, open that top drawer over there
and pull out the white plastic bag, "he said
tremulously. "I want you to open it up."
Martha hobbled over to the drawer and did
what he asked. When she opened it up, her hands
trembled fiercely.
Her breathing became uneven
and Willetta rushed to help her into the lone chair
by Ricky's bed. She peeked into the bag and saw
brown material. It looked like a coat.
"That's what she had on. Did you give that
to her?" he asked quietly.
The silence in the room
was thick and even Willetta in her darkness knew
that Martha's answer was important.
Mr. Ricky
Myers had the look of a man who had waited many
long years for the answer to this very important
question.
"Yes, I did. How did you get it, Ricky,"
Martha asked fearfully.
"She had it on. She came to our spot and I
thought she was you. I was too drunk to know the
difference until it was too late," he said sadly.
Willetta's heart beat fast as she began to
understand the implications of their words. She
watched as Martha clutched her stomach and bent
over. The keening sound coming from deep within
her chest was enough to scare the wits out of
Willetta, but she stood her ground and watched the
scene unfold before her.
Ricky found strength enough to pull himself
up in the bed. He reached one long arm out toward
Martha and rested his hand on her shoulder. She
grabbed it as if it were a lifeline.
"I'm so ashamed, Ricky. All that mess. We
caused all that mess with those young people. If
Richy had lived, the truth would have killed him
anyway," she cried.
"You were having an affair with your
cousin's husband," Willetta asked incredulously.
She had been silent too long and she wanted the
details. Nothing could have surprised her more than
this new revelation.
She stared from Ricky to
Martha and tried to imagine them young and in their
prime lusting after one another. Regrettably all she
had to do was think of herself and Andrik. She
shook her head to dispel the comparison. She and
Andrik were free to love each other. Martha and
Ricky had not been.
"We were in love before Ricky married
Jean. I broke it off and had an affair with Stanley's
father and Ricky married Jean to hurt me," she said.
Willetta shook her head and sat on the end
of Ricky's bed. "It sounds like a soap opera. So,
who was Stanley's father," she asked.
"I can't tell you, child. It will only cause a
lot of confusion. We need to sign Ricky out of here
anyway. I ain't leavin him in here another minute,"
she said agitatedly.
Willetta didn't miss the look of alarm Ricky
and Martha shared, before Martha changed the
subject. But she herself was alarmed at the thought
of taking Mr. Ricky uninvited back to Andrik's
house.
"Before you get all in a huff, we gone stay at
Jean's. I wouldn't dare bring this old coot to that
boy's house," she said. Martha had regained her
aplomb and was back to her same old frankness.
CHAPTER 35
Volume 4, pg. 1 (May 1972):
"Andrik is a
sweet baby. He rarely cries, but he ain't no
laughing baby either. He gone have a serious
nature. Anita done left him to me. That child is so
sad. She gone make herself sick. "
#
The plan was to keep it a secret. Andrik
only needed to know that Martha had decided to
stay at Mama Jean's after all. Willetta hoped he
stayed away from the little old house. Although
tolerant of Martha, he had yet to express any real
fondness for her. For that reason, Willetta felt their
secret would be safe. Andrik would never suspect
Martha was hiding Ricky Myers in Mama Jean's old
homestead.
After helping Martha and Ricky into Mama
Jean's house, Willetta drove slowly towards
Thompson Estates. She laughed a little at how
straight and tall Ricky stood as he walked out of the
nursing home to the car. Both she and Martha were
vastly relieved to know he could walk, because now
his care wouldn't be so cumbersome for them.
#
The talk on the way home had been about
the night Ricky had raped Anita. It had been a
horrible mistake on his part and he had lived in its
shadow the rest of his life. At age seventy-six he
still had little knowledge of all that had happened
afterwards. The day of Andrik's birth had severed
all his ties to Jean and Anita. Martha was gone long
before Andrik was born. She'd left Mississippi for
good the day after Richard's funeral. Ricky had
always assumed she found out about what he'd done
and just didn't want to see his face again.
"The truth was that I was ate up with guilt
every time I looked at Jean. My son had killed her
child and here I was sleeping with her husband.
When she started talking about the journals and
looking at me like she could see through me, I got
scared. I told Stanley he had to marry Anita and
then I left for California," she said.