PART FOUR: Chapter Four

PART FOUR: Chapter Four

     Faced with eviction, I had to quickly locate another place to live, however, I feared that the eviction would hurt my chances of finding someplace nice. Thankfully, I was able to get a place on the North Providence-Smithfield border. It was a lovely luxury apartment complete with a clubhouse that boasted an indoor and outdoor swimming pool, a sauna, an indoor racketball court and a gym. The rent was only about ten dollars more than I was paying in Cranston. My credit check went through and I was "in" although I am not sure how because of the pending eviction. The apartment, itself, had vaulted ceilings and a gorgeous deck overlooking beautiful trees. I thought it was perfect. I began to plan my move.
     Unfortunately, while I was preoccupied preparing to move, Eric decided to return and bring with him a black cloud that smothered every bit of joy I had within me. Why couldn't he just go away for good and not return? Why did he have to keep popping in and out of my life? His face was dry and the kinky hair that had sat upon his head like a overused, dirty SOS pad was gone. He looked like an African Mr. Clean, only Mr. Clean was far more "clean-looking". I never knew why he looked so grimy and "ashy". His skin was so dry and, because of his very dark complexion, the dryness made his skin look grey.
     After I was moved and settled in the new place, Eric somehow convinced me he'd get a job and "behave himself". He said he was attending anger management classes and I dropped him off to make sure he was. Deep within my soul, I knew he hadn't changed and that I was only playing with fire. Nevertheless, I concentrated my efforts on trying to separate myself from my past and the ignorance that bred me in order to be successful at my career, to be something, to see the world and to learn, learn , learn.
   

     Shortly after my move,  my thoughts returned to my mother. I so desperately wanted for her to love me and, most importantly, for her to be proud of me. I did, however, have questions that I wanted her to answer. Why did she abandon me after she was granted full custody of me? Why did she return for my little brother and not me? Why did she let my father take us when she knew about his unfavorable reputation? I was not going to judge her, that was not my purpose. My purpose was to get answers, to have a heart-to-heart with her, to forgive her and to begin a loving mother-daughter relationship with her. I so needed her in my life at this point and I wanted her to need me, too.
     My attempt at getting answers from my mother went sour immediately. I decided I would call the number  I had kept since I was a child when she used to visit us every Sunday. I could feel a lump in my throat as I dialed the number. When she answered, I was speechless and actually had to grab my throat in an effort to force myself to speak.
     "Ma," I said. "It's me, Candace." I could hear nothing but silence. "I graduated from college and am now a full-time English teacher in the Providence Public School Department. I teach 7th grade at Perry." Still nothing but the rustling of the phone in her hands. I bet she was waiting like I was for some clue as to where the phone call was leading. Finally, she spoke.
     "Yes, we read it in the paper. Your graduation." Not even a "congratulations". Suddenly emotions took ahold of me. Everything I wanted to say flew out of my mouth  like floodwaters bursting from a dam. All I remember saying is, "Why? Why did you leave me? WHY?" She began sobbing. She knew this day was coming. How could someone do something to their own child and not think that they would have to face it one day? Her sobs did not move me. I feel silent as she handed the phone to her new husband.
     "You have always been a problem. Difficult." he said. WHAT?How the hell was I ever a "problem"? And when was I ever "difficult" and how did HE know what I was? I could not believe what I was hearing. That was a copout. I didn't think my mother was sorry for one minute for what she had done and the nerve of her to concoct some story about me being the "bad child", the "bad seed"! I was so annoyed that I hung up and promised myself that I would try again sometime soon. I felt I could make her see the truth and she'd love me and take me back with open arms and treat me as a mother who loved her daughter would. It would be a long time before I realized that in terms of family, I only had myself and that my own mother would have rather seen me dead than walking around being a successful and productive human being.