The Decks and the Road
book 1- Freeborn
The Final Chapters-
Chapter 29a
Kayla- The last three weeks were not as I expected. The team at Simpleton and Fisher had helped
me to map out my next three storylines.
They were good, but it meant I’d have to visit my father. I’d gone back and forth for months trying to
wiggle my way out of it, but Taye thought if I did, it would take my writing into
a new dimension and solidify my audience.
It wasn’t a farfetched thought really.
I’d been considering it off and on for some time, but it still felt like
too soon. I had asked Dr. Kat for her
thoughts on the matter, and she too thought it would be good for me. Wood was no different, and so I prayed about
it. I didn’t really get an answer
concerning my question, but then all of a sudden, I’d gotten my next book. It didn’t come as a suggestion, but more like
an assignment. I had characters and
names and all the ways they would interact with each other. At the center of it all, was my father. I tried to play with the story. I tried to shift things, but none of my cuts
or pastings were as good. After a few
days of toying with it, I shared it with Taye, and he couldn’t let it go. Eventually, I agreed to write it, and we all
went back to the drawing board. Then
came the day I was to visit him. It
began overcast and uninviting. I hadn’t
slept, and I considered not going. I’d
seen enough movies, and I was sure I could write the story. I couldn’t see what this meeting would do
other than destroy me. I’d gotten all
the encouragement I could take. None of
it mattered anymore. There were no words
that could provide the proper set up.
Wood was up and sitting on his side of the bed watching me go back and
forth. He was unlike himself, and
remained quiet. He’d offered to ride
with me, but I’d declined. I didn’t need
support. I needed an ending. Part of me was determined to get it, while
the other part of me tried to convince me that I already had it. They were both convincing. In the end, determination won. I sat down in front of my father, and said
nothing. He looked on in silence. I was
surprised by his appearance. He was
healthy and strong. He was also
patient. After several minutes I spoke.
“Do you think it’s fair that you’re
healthy and strong—that you’re here and she’s gone?” I asked and was shocked. It was not one of the questions I’d expected
to ask.
“Do you always ignore your own
wounds?” My father was looking me right
in my eyes. He was not like I'd imagined. I expected a frail,
remorseful, and ashamed person, but he was none of those things. I couldn’t escape his question, or his
eyes. Still I hadn’t come to answer his
questions, so I kept it with me to ponder.
“Why are you here Kayla?” He continued anyway.
“Everyone thinks it’s a good
idea.” I looked away.
“Who’s everyone?”
“Why’d you do it?”
“Do what?” He asked as if he’d drawn a blank.
“Why’d you infect all those
women? When did you know?”
“Are you a reporter? Ask me about Kayla.” He slightly raised his voice, and I could
feel his rage; although I could not see it.
My face was hot, and I could feel the sweat on my back.
“What for? It’s not going to change anything.”
“Then why’d you come?”
“I thought you’d be sorry. I thought you might have something to say.” I sat with my eyes ready to burst with tears.
“I’m sorry Kayla.” I heard the words I thought I’d have to beg
for—the words I assumed would matter, but they didn’t, and he must have known
it because he’d gotten up and left me there to measure them. It was the first time determination had led
me wrong. I tried to regain my
composure, but I was already being ushered out.
I held on to my tears until I’d gotten into the open air. Then they spilled all out. But these tears were not like the ones I’d
cried before. I could tell that these
were final. All of it—the whole thing
was over. Whatever questions I had, could
now and always be answered by my experience.
I’d seen his face. I’d heard his
responses. I’d gotten his apology, and
it was time for A Better Pair of Shoes.
I accepted the sky that had turned from gray to blue as a confirmation
of things to come, and left my father behind—that day. The next day and for the next few weeks, I
forgot what I knew, and continued to play back our conversation. I found I walked slower, talked less, and I had to
remind myself to smile. Then three days
ago I woke up and it was all gone. It’s
been hard to describe that day, and likewise—it’s been hard to forget it.
It was no doubt going to be a big day. I should have woken up in haste, but I didn’t. Instead, I continued to lay in the warmth my
husband and I had created. It was a warmth
I could always count on, and on our first Thanksgiving in our new home, it was
all the more treasured. This year was no
different than the last two. I had my
hands full with blessings. We didn’t
really need a special day to be thankful.
After all, we prayed always now.
We’d even prayed about today, and so I expected nothing but
success. I wasn’t the cook, and I didn’t
bother to pretend. Everything had been
arranged and paid for, and it meant we could enjoy our morning. I’d been thinking about Tayeton and his
situation, and I thought it would be cool to invite him. Surprisingly, Wood thought it was cool
too. I think it’s the way the girls
enjoy each other that keeps him open. My
only real source of anxiety was for the reveal of my book. I’d been so quiet about the whole thing, and
now I thought maybe it would cause some waves.
I expected the usual antics from Aisha, but I wasn’t sure how Ketly
would react. I'd considered letting her in on
it earlier, but something kept telling me to wait. Even when I wrote myself into a corner, I
didn’t bother to call her. It was just
so personal. Not just to me, but even to
Wood. It was as though we’d had a baby,
and technically he could have demanded credit, but he never did. Still I wanted everyone to know how much I
valued him, and so I wrote the sweetest acknowledgement. I’d managed to keep the book hidden, and now
that it was Thanksgiving, it was the perfect gift. I tore myself away, and awoke him. When I presented him with the book, I could
see his eyes light up. I didn’t wait for
him to find the acknowledgement. I
peeled the book from his hands, and turned to the page. I could see his heart melt as he read it, and
then he just hung his head. He didn’t
have to say a word. I knew what all it
meant. We both knew how hard he’d fought
for me since the beginning, and the book was like a reward. It was the beginning and the end of many
chapters.
Looking for Chapter 29b?? It's the official "Intro to Erased"....
Freeborn, a novel
Freeborn
© Grace Call Communications,
LLC
Copyright © 2017
by Natisha Renee Williams
All Rights Reserved
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