Journals of the Secret Keeper (9 page)

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Aunt Olivia's nurse pressed a cold towel
against Willetta's face. Her eyes fluttered and then
opened wide.
"Are you okay, child," Aunt Olivia asked.
The old lines of her face furrowed in worry.
"I don't know," Willetta said. Her heart beat
wildly.
Andrik's strong hand held hers tightly and
provided consolation and strength as she grappled
for control.
"Wh…who is the boy in the picture," she
asked in a small voice that didn't sound like her
own.
"Why that's Ollie's brother, Octavia's
grandson and my great grandson," she said. "He's a
bad seed though, child. He's in prison right now for
some unspeakable crimes he committed. You don't
know him. That's a picture of him when he was in
school."
Willetta could not control the shaking that
overtook her. Andrik slid beside her on the love
seat and wrapped his arms around her. "What is it,
Lettie. Tell us. So, we can help you," he pleaded.
"I can't," she cried. "Please, Andrik, get me
out of here. I can't stay any longer. I have to go."
Willetta knew she was out of control when she
threw her arms around Andrik's neck. She was
desperate for an anchor, any anchor.
"Child what is it? Did that boy do
something to you?" Aunt Olivia demanded.
Andrik swiftly hefted Willetta into his arms
and stood. His face was a mask of iron and steel as
his voice fairly boomed, "Is there a room where I
can take her. She needs some privacy."
The nurse literally ran towards the stairwell
to lead them out of the parlor and up to one of the
private bedrooms. She closed the door on them as
Andrew laid Willetta on the full-sized sleigh bed
and opened a window.
"Willetta, he's the one who raped you isn't
he?" he said.
#
Olivia Thompson Lewis had not lived to be
ninety without being shrewd. She rarely missed a
thing. So, she had not missed the bored look of
resignation on young Olivia's face when she saw
Willetta on the floor clutching the picture of
Orlando Jr.
"Nurse Becky, please tell Olivia Townsend
to come to me. Tell Martha and Octavia to stay
where they are. I just want Olivia."
A little while later Olivia entered the private
reading room where Andrik, Aunt Olivia and Nurse
Becky had taken Willetta to revive her. The room
was small and cozy. There was a fireplace and of
course, two walls devoted to books and one wall
devoted to portraits. A small desk sat in front of a
window flanked by huge cactus plants. A long sky
blue couch and cherry wood coffee table sat in the
very center of the room.
"You wanted to see me," Olivia said. She
stood with her hands clasped behind her back. The
black slacks and black blouse she wore made her
skin appear ashen and sallow.
"Black does not become you. Maybe you
should try pastels. Have a seat, child," Aunt Olivia
said.
Olivia obeyed the same way a pet or a dog
would. Aunt Olivia did not like it. "Child you
have allowed your grandmother to turn you into a
slave. Is money that important to you." she asked.
"Ecclesiastes 7: 12 says, 'For wisdom is a
defence, and money is a defence: but the excellency
of knowledge is, that wisdom giveth life to them
that have it.'" she said.
"I agree. Wisdom does giveth life to them
that have it. That is why you will listen to me. I am
ninety years old and I can help you. But first things
first, what did your brother do to that child?" she
asked.
"He raped her," she said.
Aunt Olivia was too old to be shocked.
"How old was she when this happened."
"She was fifteen."
"How do you know all of this, Olivia?"
Olivia shifted in her seat and looked at the
floor. She seemed to be giving serious thought
about how to answer.
"Just spit it out. I'm old. I don't have
forever to sit here and wait on you," Aunt Olivia
snapped.
"Grandma sent me to pick Junior up from
school. Seniors were getting out early that day.
When he got in the car he was smelly and sweaty
and laughing like he had lost his mind. That's when
I saw her crawl from out of the bushes with her
clothes torn off. Junior was eager to let me know
what he had done. He called her 'Jones' and said he
had 'jumped ole Jones' bones'. I made him get out
of the car and I left him there," she finished.
"How long have you known Willetta," she
asked.
"I just met her yesterday," Olivia said.
"When you saw her did you know she was
the same one your brother molested," Aunt Olivia
asked.
"I do have a very long memory," Olivia
replied.
#
Andrik sat on the end of the bed with
Willetta's feet in his lap. He massaged them until
her trembling abated. Neither one of them said a
word. Willetta had only nodded her head in
affirmation that the boy in the picture had indeed
raped her. Long moments passed and when her
breathing finally stabilized and she no longer felt
the need to run in terror, she began to talk.
"Now this is what they mean by coming full
circle. It was foolish of me to think I could run
away from something like this. I should have
stayed and gotten it over with back then," she said.
"He gave me money to run away and keep my
mouth shut. He said his sister, that witch
downstairs, said it was for the best. Even told me
where to go. Atlanta, Georgia. And I went. He
could have found me and raped me again. Who
knows, maybe he tried. I was so stupid," she cried.
Andrik remained silent. He wanted her to
talk about it freely. She needed to get it out of her
system. There was only one way to get rid of this
kind of poison. It had to be purged. He would
listen.
"And to think he is my first cousin." she
said.
On that note Andrik could not remain silent.
"These people are not related to you or me for that
matter. That woman downstairs in that wheelchair
is as white as the driven snow. I got half a mind to
go down there and wring some necks until
somebody tells me the truth."
Willetta felt an insidious guilt gripping her.
She had the answers in the palm of her hands and
had not yet shared them with Andrik. She would
keep her secrets until she decided which was worse,
not knowing or knowing the truth.
CHAPTER 21
Volume 2, pg. 1 (September 1930):
"Mable
had a nursery full after I took Willetta away
from her. So, I stopped feeling so guilty after a
while. She never was too smart. Never
figured out who took her four year old baby
while she was hanging clothes out to dry. It's
quite ridiculous that I should have gotten away
with such a public crime. My Willetta is twentyfour years old with a baby of her own now.""
#
"Are you recovered," Olivia asked Willetta
as she entered the room.
Willetta stopped in her tracks. She had
decided to put it all behind her, but Olivia's
boldness was too much.
"Yes, thank you. May I ask you a question,"
she said sweetly.
"Sure," Olivia said without blinking.
"How old are you," Willetta asked.
"I'm thirty-two," she replied.
"So, you were a twenty-one-year-old woman
when you gave your eighteen-year-old brother
keep-quiet money to give to a fifteen-year-old girl
he raped," she said between her teeth.
Martha and Octavia's sounds of protestation
were loud as Willetta closed in on Olivia.
"Just tell me this. How many more girls did
you pay off to keep quiet about your sick brother,"
Willetta was circling Olivia and staring her up and
down like she was the vilest thing on earth.
"Now just wait one cotton-pickin second,"
Martha said. "Orlando Jr. raped you, Willetta?"
Willetta never took her eyes from Olivia as
she said, "Yes ma'am, he did."
"Olivia, you knew about this and didn't say
anything," Aunt Octavia said as she fell into the
nearest seat.
"Granddaddy was running for district
secretary. There would have been a scandal," she
said coldly.
"John five verse nineteen, "Verily, verily, I
say unto you, The Son can do nothing of himself,
but what he seeth the Father do: for what things
soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise,"
Octavia said.
"Leave the room this instance, Octavia. I
will not sit here and listen to you blaspheme God
and his Word by misquoting scriptures. Becky, take
her to the library. If you had a proper
understanding of the Bible, you wouldn't have
married that asinine Amos Townsend in the first
place. I know the scripture you should be quoting.
Proverbs thirteen verse twenty, which says, "He that
walketh with wise men shall be wise: but a
companion of fools shall be destroyed"."
It was kind of sad to see a seventy-year-old
woman escorted out of the room at the command of
her ninety-year-old mother and it wouldn't be an
understatement to say that everyone in the room
was verily, verily relieved to see her go.
#
Aunt Olivia turned out to be just a treasure
of information. She had some first rate diplomatic
skills as well. She took the bull by the horns so to
speak and reduced Olivia to tears. She let her know
in no uncertain terms that she thought she was a
cold-hearted wretched creature who would never
receive an ounce of mercy or kindness from anyone
because of her evil disposition. She was ashamed to
have her as a family member, which would
definitely be reflected in her last testament and will.
Her feelings were that evil people and power,
meaning money, were not a match and that if it
were up to her, which in all probability it was,
Olivia would live a poor woman and die a poor
woman. And that was all she had to say on the
matter. Ms. Olivia was summarily dismissed to the
library with her mother, which is where they were
to stay until their party was ready to leave.
#
"Sometimes all it takes is asking," Aunt
Olivia said. "Matthew seven verse seven says,
"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall
find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you." I
know I sound like Octavia, but she is my child you
know."
"Tell me about my father," Andrik said.
"His name was Richard Myers. You look a
lot like your daddy, but you look more like your
granddaddy. His name was Rick Myers. He and
Jean fell hard for each other real fast. Some folks
didn't like it." She looked hard at Martha.
"Well, I saw him first," she said.
"Martha wanted him too. She never forgave
Jean for winning Rick's heart. Jean never forgave
Martha for killing Rick's son."
"I didn't kill, Richy," Martha said fiercely.
"You may as well have. Stanley drank his
first taste of whiskey while sitting in your lap.
Willetta stay away from that stuff. It's in your
blood baby," Aunt Olivia warned.
'So, what really happened," Andrik asked.
#
Aunt Olivia gave a short version of the
events leading up to and after Richard Myer's death.
Stanley and Richard were close. They were almost
like brothers even though there was a ten year
difference between them. Mama Jean and Rick
raised Richard in the little house and Willetta raised
Stanley in the 'Big House.' The boys were always
together as they got older. They worked the fields
together as young men and split the money. Soon
Stanley was engaged to Maureen Jones and Richard
was dating Anita Mosley. Then one day Stanley
came running to Mama Jean, drunk as a skunk with
Richard in his arms and blood running down over
both of them. Jean thought both of them was hurt
until she saw that Richard's legs had been cut clean
off by the tractor blades. Martha swore she could
hear Jean screaming all the way up at the Big
House. A couple of days before the funeral, Anita
Mosley, came crying and distraught to Mama Jean.
Said she was pregnant and wouldn't have nowhere
to live if her preacher daddy found out that she had
laid with a man without the benefit of marriage.
"That's when Jean started bartering with the
devil. She went into those demon-journals written
by Etta and William Thompson. Just to set your
mind at ease they didn't have a thing to do with
parenting a soul, except for the little girl that died.
Now she was the real Willetta.
Martha, your
mother's real name was Sadie Tucker. She was
stolen from Mable Tucker, Etta's sister in 1910
about the same time Sylvia Jean was adopted. I
thank the Lord every night that I don't have that
crazy blood running through my veins." Aunt Olivia
said.
"Aunt Olivia, how do you know all this,"
Martha asked.
"Remember I was the youngest. Etta carried
me with her everywhere she went. While she was
watching daddy, I was watching her. I saw where
he hid the journals and when he died, I saw where
she hid the journals. So, I read each and every one
of them to my everlasting sorrow."
CHAPTER 23
Volume 3, pg. 1 (August 1931):
"Sylvia Jean
and John are talking about marriage.
I hope
they marry soon. I would like for Sylvia to
leave. She has not treated me the same since
William died."
#
The hum of the motor was all that could be
heard as they rode along the interstate. Reflections
upon all they just learned from ninety-year-old Aunt
Olivia were somber to say the least. Willetta's
reunion with the demons of her past left her
exhausted and tearful. Her eyes and lips were
swollen serving as indicators of her distress.
Martha felt a chill all the way to her bones.
She didn't think she would ever be warm again. She
remembered her grandmother. Even at eighty, she
could conjure up Etta's face. She had been a pretty
woman; solid in frame, big legs, big arms and a
small waist. Martha was seven when she died. She
remembered her voice. It was loud and
commanding.
Martha's mother, Willetta, had never spoken
badly of Etta. But in hindsight, Martha could
remember the sadness and despondency her mother
often felt. Even though the house was her
inheritance, she always referred to it as "momma's
house" or "daddy's house."
When Martha asked Aunt Olivia why she'd
kept such horrible secrets for so many years, she
wasn't prepared for the answer.
"Look at me, Martha. I'm not a Negro. I'm
just as Caucasian as anybody ever was. Momma
and daddy never took me anywhere. I was in a
makeshift prison out there on Thompson Estate. If
they had taken me out, people would have asked
questions. I started wondering why I looked so
different as I got older and that's when I started
snooping and reading things I had no business
reading. That's how I ran up on the journals," Aunt
Olivia stopped. She took a shaky breath and hit her
thigh, before rocking back, closing her eyes, as if
feeling the horror all over again. She then
continued the story.