The Death of 1977 (Book 3)

Chapter 49

Seated comfortably in the passenger's seat next to Isaiah, Lynnette kept a quiet vigil all to herself. Inside Isaiah's Jeep Caravan all that could be heard was the humming engine, along with the ever present sighing that would every so often come from the woman's agonizing mouth. The Cypress scenery passed by so vividly in Lynnette's eyes that just attempting to focus on or identify one building or landmark was seemingly pointless. All she really desired to do was sit and watch the landscape fly by. The thoughts and recollections inside of her were so jumbled that she had to ball up her fists just to keep from crying all over again. Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

"We used to have some really cold winters here back in the day." Lynnette sighed so heavily.

Appearing rather amused, Isaiah turned to his mother. "Well, well, the dead has finally awoke." He smirked.

Lynnette just grinned somewhat while keeping her head to the streets. "I remember when you were a baby, I had to take you to the hospital in two feet of snow because you had fallen down the porch steps and bloodied up your knee."

"Oh yeah, Grandma told me about that once."

"Yep, I had to take the bus and walk a block just to get to the hospital. But then again, you were such a rough and tumble little boy." Lynnette said. "Back then, we used to have some monster winters. Not these sissy one's we have today."

Isaiah just chuckled from his gut while asking, "Is that right?"

Glancing over at him, Lynnette replied, "Sure is. These kids today don't know what a real snowstorm is. We used to have Level Three's all the time back then."

"That, and you used to walk ten miles in the snow to school, and ten miles back home." Isaiah quipped. "You used to wash your clothes in the sink. You used to milk the cows before you went to bed at two a.m. every night."

"Boy, you'd better stop that." Lynnette giggled.

Giggling right back, Isaiah replied, "You sound like my students." 'Mr. Glover, I didn't do my homework last night because I had to walk to my grandparents' house in the snow to get some pens.'

"You forget that you used to make up some silly excuses yourself when you were their age, too."

"Yeah, but I don't remember ever using the snow as an excuse."

Lynnette just smiled and looked back out the window again. Isaiah stopped at a traffic light. Standing right in front of a business building was a vendor serving gyros. It was a black man wearing a red, yellow and green beanie hat on his head while lathering a customer's gyro with cucumber sauce. At that very instant the images inside Lynnette's brain ventured right back to the island.

"What's it like being back here again after all these years?" Isaiah suddenly asked as he resumed driving.

Lynnette not only snapped back to life, her body also shook in her seat. Clearing her throat, she answered, "You have to understand, this city looks familiar, but different in so many ways."

"I ask that because your eyes are still swollen from the graveyard." Isaiah kept his eyes glued to the road ahead. "I know that you didn't come all the way back here just to visit your sisters, nieces and nephews."

Lynnette looked hard at Isaiah at that point and asked, "Tell me something, son. What made you go and speak to Isaac today?"

Isaiah momentarily glanced over at his mother before saying, "I know he meant something very special to you at one time."

"No, that's not it." Lynnette's tone grew stern. "Why did you go and speak to that man's grave today? Yes, you went to speak to your granddad Charles, but you had something to say to Isaac as well. What was it?"

Isaiah sighed at that moment without once taking his eyes off of the road. "All of my life I've heard Aunt Jackie, Lavonia and Bernadette talk so harshly about him. While Grandpa Charles spoke so fondly. But it was you, mom, that always seemed to hold back whenever his name came up. And when you told me about...my real father, that's when I started to realize just why."

Lynnette clinched her entire body at that point while twisting and turning in her seat. "I...I need for you to pull this thing into a parking lot or something." She began to hyperventilate.

Appearing shocked, Isaiah hastily asked, "Are you okay?"

"Just pull into this gas station for a moment." She pointed to her immediate right.

At once, Isaiah pulled his vehicle into the nearest filling station parking lot and stopped. He then unbuckled his belt and attended to his mother.

"Mom, what's the matter?" He panted.

Lynnette took her son's hand and squeezed so tightly. Trying to catch her breath, she looked deep into the man's eyes and held on.

"That's not why I held back talking about Isaac all these years. If you were to ask me why I cheated on him, I honestly couldn't give you a rational response. Isaac was, and still is, my very first love. We met each other way back in the sixth grade. We met at a food fight, of all places. But as time went on, we

went through the ups and downs of being in a relationship. Sometimes we loved so hard, and sometimes we hated so hard."

Lynnette couldn't help but to hold onto Isaiah's hand as tight as she could, as though she felt she was going to be swept away had she not.

"One time, however, in one of our hateful moments, I turned away from him, and ran to another man. It pained me so much to have to tell Isaac what I did, but we went on...pretending that it didn't even take place. I loved Isaac so very much."

Gripping his mother's hand right back, Isaiah asked, "How is it that you can love a man that nearly killed both you and I? All I've ever heard from the family all my life was how he almost wiped us out. And yet, you sit here telling me how much you loved him. I don't understand that, mom. I don't understand why you had me drive you to see him. Why you were there bawling over him."

Lynnette withdrew her hand from her son's and sat back in her seat. The woman exhaled as hard as she could. She had words stored within her for the past forty some odd years, and yet, at the most inopportune time she had lost the nerve to express any of them properly. It didn't surprise her, however.

"Do you remember when I went to Jamaica?"

"Yeah," Isaiah nodded.

"I didn't go there for drug rehab, or for some stupid vacation. I went to take care of something very important." She sat back. "Yes, I was gone for a number of years, but it was in those years that I was allowed to get my soul correct. I went down there because I knew that no one else on God's planet could or would take care of it."

"Take care of what, mom?" Isaiah replied agitated. "Why still after all these years are you being so elusive with me? I'm a full grown man, for God's sake!"

Tears began dribbling down Lynnette's face right then. "Isaac...Isaac was very sick. But it wasn't his fault. He hurt you and I, and yet, it still wasn't his fault. I've learned throughout time that there are very ugly forces in this world that—

"Okay, mom, I can't take this anymore." Isaiah tossed up his hands in a frustrated manner.

"Please listen to me!" Lynnette grabbed the man by the hands and looked straight into his eyes. "From your youth, what do you remember the most?"

Isaiah dropped his head in anguish before sighing, "I don't know for sure. I remember you always working."

"No, no, I mean, what scary things do you recall?"

Isaiah pulled his head back and glanced outside the windshield for a moment before staring away at nothing.

"I...I remember when I was in elementary school, I always seemed to have this recurring dream or nightmare about...about something big with these eyes always staring at me. In the dream it was loud. And for some reason there was always blood surrounding me. But then again, they were just silly nightmares."

Lynnette couldn't help but to gulp and drown in her own tears at that instant. She snatched her hands away from Isaiah's and covered her face with them.

"Mom, what's going on?" He spoke more tenderly.

Pulling her hands away from her face, Lynnette said, "I remember when I was down in Jamaica, there was this little boy named Leo. He was such a lonely little boy. He always reminded me of you. I think

that's why I gravitated towards him so. I always saw you being just like him; lonely and isolated from your mother. I often wonder what became of him."

Lynnette watched as Isaiah fidgeted about in his seat while trying not to lock eyes with her. She knew that she had his attention, but she wanted to see his face more than anything.

"I know you hated me for the way I've been all these years towards you. But I want you to know that everything I did, I did to protect you."

Spinning around, Isaiah said out loud, "You think I hated you all these years? I never hated you! I hated the way you kept pushing and pushing me away! For years you always made me feel as though I wasn't allowed inside your life! I never hated you, you're my mother! I hated that I never felt like your son!"

Lynnette couldn't help but to burst out into uncontrolled tears. Isaiah followed in kind; expect his emotion was more subdued.

"I don't even know why we're even here." Isaiah wiped his runny nose. "I feel like everything is crashing in on us all at once. Like it's one thing after another."

"That's why I'm so glad your Aunt Lavonia came to Christ and is doing what she's doing." Lynnette blurted out. "I knew God was always with me all those years. And I know that I wasn't the mother you needed, but Lavonia helped me so much get to Jesus. That's why I try so hard to get you, Brianna and the kids to come to church. I want you all to know God like I do, and—

"Mom, you have to understand, us going to church isn't going to change the fact that there's still and always will be something that you're not telling me about that man." Isaiah remarked. "I truly do believe with all my heart that you're going to take whatever happened years ago with you to your grave. And to

be honest, I can live with that. But please, quit making him out to be some sort of lost love. You stayed away from Cypress all these years because of him, I know it."

"Son, I don't care what your aunts used to say about Isaac. All three of them were evil assholes way back then. I knew him, and I loved him. Out of all of the dangerous people that I once knew, Isaac was the one that...that never wanted to harm me. And he certainly never wanted to harm you. He loved you more than anything." Lynnette then reached into her purse and pulled out a tissue before wiping her wet face with it. "I wanted you and I to come here as mother and son for the sole purpose of putting our spirits to rest."

The car sat perfectly quiet right then. Neither Lynnette nor Isaiah had anything to say to the effect. They both just watched as people either pumped their gas into their various vehicles or walked into the station's lobby.

"Why did you wait all these years to do it?" Isaiah uttered under his breath.

Exhaling, Lynnette stated, "I don't know for sure. I guess I got tired of playing pretend anymore."

Isaiah sat and fiddled with his fingernails while muttering, "Do you know what drove Isaac to hurt you the way he did? I mean, he did cut off your finger after all."

Lynnette looked over at Isaiah with a sullen frown on her worn face and responded, "Son...there are some questions that can only be answered as time travels by. Let time travel some more, please."

Isaiah kept on twiddling his fingers like an adolescent before he lifted his head, bit down on his lip and said, "I do thank Christ for you. And I figure if you've been holding a candle all these years for him, then he must've meant a lot to you."

Immediately, Lynnette pulled Isaiah to her and hugged the very life out of him. Both of them held on for ceaseless minutes before finally letting go. Isaiah took off his eyeglasses and wiped his eyes while

Lynnette used yet another tissue to dry her saturated face.

"I was watching this documentary on The History Channel." Lynnette remarked.

Chuckling, Isaiah said, "If it's not some documentary, then it's The Lifetime Network or N.C.I.S. for you."

Lynnette playfully pinched Isaiah's arm before remarking, "As I was saying. I was watching this documentary about this Jewish woman who went back to one of those death camps that Hitler set up way back when. I thought about how haunting it must have been for her to go back there after all that had taken place."

"Yeah, it was pretty messed up what happened to them." Isaiah turned away and sniffed.

Gritting her teeth as hard as she could, Lynnette asked, "Can I get you to do one more thing for me, please?"