I’m a new outpatient at the the Greater Hope Mental Health Facility.

One of the head staff counselors interviews me.

I provide him with my insurance information, list of medications, therapist, psychiatrist, dermatologist, gynecologist, names of my cats, veterinarian, etc.

It takes a village, people (tee hee).

He asks me why I’m there, so I tell him about the abuse.

“Wow”, he says staring at me. “I could write a book about that.”

Are you kidding me? Stupid fuck. “Yes, that would be great”, I say in my people pleasing passive and congenial voice. He smirks.

“Are you suicidal?” 

“ No”.

 “What medications are you on?”

I just told you. “ Paxil.”

“ Have you seen Dr. Carnegie about making changes?” 

“No”.

“Why not?”

“Uh, I…”

“I’ll set up an appointment for you.”

“Ok.” 

“We’ll recommend a standard four weeks pending approval by your insurance company.”

“Ok”.

Looking down at a sheet of paper he reads, “We can help you get through this”.

“Time heals all things”. “It’s a process”.

I remember him preening his beard while doling out his shitty advice.

“Use your wound to allow the light to enter.”

Let’s use your fat ass to allow my foot to enter, I want to shout.

“Alright. Let’s get you down to Group 2 today.”

“Ok.”

He drops me off at the outpatient group therapy room as folks are still wandering in. The social worker running the show asks us all to settle down, and, I look around the room to see who’s got what going on.

I try to find an empty chair as far from the front as possible. Some papers are being pushed around the table along with some pens.

Social Worker Ann says, “For you new folks please fill out the form and pass it back to me.”  

I grab one and reach for a pen. I look at the form.

Name? Medications?

Are you angry?

Yes.

Are you sad?

Why yes.

Are you suicidal?

Fuck yes.

I fill it out with noes across the board and pass it back down. I can tell several people have known each other from previous group sessions and I feel exposed and vulnerable - my palms are sweaty because I have no idea what’s going to happen next.

Beverly wakes up from her nap rubbing her eyes. She looks around her and sees she has been placed back into her crib. She has no memory of what occurred but her little self is teeming with helplessness, rage, and, guilt. Beverly doesn’t yet know the hands and the mouth of the fucking bitch mother had her way with her again and she can do nothing about it.

She lives on the second floor of an apartment building for U.S military families stationed overseas. The father was in the army assigned to the Stuttgart Army Base in Stuttgart, Germany, in 1959. She was eighteen months old when they travelled by ship from the states to Europe. The monster mother thing got her panties in a twist because Beverly would not drink her milk if the baby bottle was not heated. It was already a difficult state of affairs as one of a handful of black families on the ship let alone requesting the captain make an exception to access the ship’s kitchen. The monster mother is beautiful, and her flirtations help with the negotiations. Of course, she cannot tell the father husband- he would lose it - and they would lose everything.

Beverly is now two and has been able to unhitch the crib railing for months. She listens and catches her breath as she hears the monster in the next room rumbling about.

Beverly has found a new game to play. Once the railing is down she turns around facing the crib, so she can slide down onto the floor. She reaches for the door knob and frees herself. She is now on the mission for which the game was intended. She heads to the bathroom, locking the door to imprison herself. She turns on the water in the bathtub and hums to herself as she splashes about.

The father comes home to an upset mother bitch screaming that she cannot open the bathroom door. He speaks sweetly to Beverly through the door asking her to unlock it. He hears her humming, so he knows she hasn’t drowned yet. He starts yelling – “Open the door! Or else!”. Or else what? What else could there possibly be? But Beverly does not hear any of this dialogue surrounding her. She is in a pool playing with her toys. She hangs onto a bright red raft kicking her feet and glides across the pool. Mission accomplished.

If she only knew how extraordinary she is. She wants to know – there is a nugget of something there - but she doesn’t get it, not yet anyway.

She comes back to the present as she hears the bathroom door being wrenched from its hinges. Her big brown eyes witness the anger in the eyes of the father and the mother thing. She disappears for a while only to return too soon and starts crying as she feels the pain from the spanking the mother fucking thing is giving her for scaring and disobeying them. She retreats back into the inner recesses of her mind. The swamp creature pulls Beverly up by one arm her feet no longer touch the ground.

“DON’T” SMACK.

“YOU” SMACK.

“EVER”. SMACK.

“DO”. SMACK.

“THAT” SMACK.

“AGAIN”. SMACK.

The beating has a charming rhythm.

Beverly plays the game two more times before the father gets rid of the door.

The short-cut to hades is the portal through this small village from where most of the girl children have disappeared. He staggers through it; his blonde hair a halo around his head from the electrical charge. Landing flat on his face onto the sidewalk, he breaks his nose and lets out a howl. The intoxication levels in his blood are higher than we anticipated but there is nothing to do now. While it adds flavor, we do not want his senses blunted. He has no idea where he is and Mexico is the last place they’ll look for him. The zombies are hungry as this, he, is their first meal of the day upon which they can feast.

*****

Is this recorder on? Hello? Hello? Ok ok it’s working. “My meeting with Bannon lasted longer than I wanted. He’s so full of shit I need to get rid of him and a bunch of other people. Let me tell you I’m a smart guy. I have had tremendous success before them and I’ll have tremendous success after them. They try to tell me what to do and forget I hold the power and they can fuck themselves. I will make America great again in fact I already have.

Kim Jong-un has agreed to pay for the WALL. He’s young and did a lot in a short amount of time. He’s a terrific guy terrific. He always jokes and says he purchased my soul in exchange for the WALL. Stupid fuck! If he spoke God’s given language, English, we wouldn’t have these communication problems. Here he is. Kim-who’s that with you?”

Beverly is a summer child and her first love is the swimming pool at her apartment complex. 

She is a latch key kid heading into third grade come fall. Mom is at work, dad is overseas, and, her sister is in her bedroom with a gentleman caller. 

She puts on her swimsuit, squeezes her toes into flip flops, grabs a towel, her pool card, and, puts the house key on a string around her neck.

Beverly skips along the path to the pool pulling at the tall grass; grasshoppers springing up like popcorn; her favorite summer scent of wild basil swaddled in the hot breeze.

She shows her card, finds an open spot at the edge of the pool and slips in. There is an effortless joy she feels in the water. She turns her face skyward with eyes closed, blinded by the sunlight. Her straightened hair metamorphoses into cotton candy the moment it touches the water.

The lifeguard she has a crush on comes over and asks her if she’s ready for the test. Yes, she says. She swims the length of the pool and he gives her a thumps up. She proudly walks over to the high dive. She holds on tight as she climbs to the top. The board is wet but not slippery.

She holds her nose as she jumps feet first and is startled by the depth she goes down into the water. She panics just a little and climbs up quickly. She’s fine. 

She looks around for the lifeguard to see if he watched her, but she can’t find him.

Maybe she can convince her sister to come and watch. Maybe her mom will come home early. Maybe when her dad gets back.

The next day Beverly goes to the swimming pool. She skips along the path.

Beverly is a summer child and her first love is the swimming pool at her apartment complex.

She is a latch key kid heading into third grade come fall. Mom is at work, dad is overseas, and, her sister is in her bedroom with a gentleman caller. To be accurate, fuck buddy.

Beverly’s straightened hair will turn kinky the moment her hair touches the water, knowing this will piss off her mom.

She puts on her swimsuit, squeezes her toes into flip flops, grabs a towel, her pool card, and, puts the house key on a string around her neck.

Beverly skips along the path to the pool pulling at the tall grass; grasshoppers springing up like popcorn; her favorite summer scent of wild basil swaddled in the hot breeze.

She shows her card, finds an open spot at the edge of the pool and slips in. There is an effortless joy she feels in the water. She turns her face skyward with eyes closed, blinded by the sunlight.

The lifeguard she has a crush on comes over and asks her if she’s ready for the test. Yes, she says. She swims the length of the pool and he gives her a thumps up. She proudly walks over to the high dive. She holds on tight as she climbs to the top. The board is wet but not slippery.

She holds her nose as she jumps feet first and is startled by the depth she goes down into the water. She panics just a little and climbs up quickly. She’s fine.

She looks around for the lifeguard to see if he watched her, but she can’t find him.

Maybe she can convince her sister to come and watch. Maybe her mom will come home early. Maybe when her dad gets back.

The next day Beverly goes to the swimming pool. She skips along the path.

My brother and I are resting in our quarters on a late Saturday morning. We consider what the day will bring us as we watch the goings on outside the lucent. The beakers in the vacuum are making a raucous while we’re trying to sleep.  As I look up toward the light I see a creature who at first looks like it is in suspended animation on the other side. I make my sounds to alert my brother and rush to the creature in the light. The creature twists and turns out of my reach. 

We have seen this thing before and still do not understand how it comes to be in our world. It is the color of rust; scaly and thin as a wisp.  We beat on the crystal closure to reach it but the obstruction will not allow us through. My brother cries out in frustration as the thing swings away. It swings back toward us but stretching for it does not take me out of the enclosure. We are exhausted now and sit down and watch as it pirouettes like a ballet dancer. 

The climbing things are swaying heavily and the suddenly the creature flies away. There is a loud sound and strange light. A siren. We are scooped up by our slave and placed in our freight compartment. We go down to darkness while the sounds escalates around us. My brother cries in fear shedding hair and shits on himself. I groom him to calm him down. The  slave thrusts her black hands through the compartment to stroke and sweet talk us.

 Not long after the sounds grow lesser and less. We are brought back up and released where she loves us and feeds us. We look for the creature but it is long gone.

I’m so excited about this challenge! Thoughts about this subject have been ruminating in my head for years.

I have contemplated the millions earned by author James Patterson for his series of books about black detective Alex Cross. In a conversation, from Along Came A Spider, Detective Cross is talking to his BFF, John Sampson who says, “Mornin’ brown sugar. You up, aren’t you?”. Because that’s how black folks talk, right? Am I right? Do we even know what Alex looks like, after several books, other than he is a man of color? Nope. But he is perfection as a man who is well educated, cares for his children and his Nana, volunteers at a soup kitchen, hunts down the bad guys, etc.

I then reflected upon another large earner, Stephen King, and his magical negroes in

The Shining

The Green Mile

The Stand

My man. Granted, none of these magical folks are vetted as characters with full lives. They’re too busy saving the world for….well, you know.

The book “Floating Worlds” was written by author Cecelia Holland and published in 1975. I’ve read it multiple times. The heroine is a brown woman who is intelligent, strong, and, driven to win at all costs.

(You is kind, you is smart, you is important!)

After reading her book for the 4th time I reached out to the author because of its singularity from her historical writings. She actually responded explaining she was influenced by the late sixties and early seventies. Violent race riots with ferocious police dogs, water spewing in heavy volume from fire hydrants.

My favorite book of all time, “Childhoods End” by Arthur C. Clarke was published in 1953. Spoiler alert if you haven’t read it and plan to; the last human being on earth is a brown man watching the earth transform in spectacular fashion!

Bottom line.

Creatively we should not be bound by our ethnicity to write only about people in our genetic tree.

Moved across country to be with my love.

His former haunts us crying, trying

To burrow and nestle into his heart.

He closes entry.

Painful.

Grateful he is mine.

THEN-3:15PM

The kids spill into the house dropping backpacks on the kitchen table pulling open cabinets. “Mom! Mom! What snack do we get?”, yells Ben. “I pick the snack!” Sophie piles on. “Knock it off and get whatever’s in the fridge. Christ”. Gwen is having brutal contractions the baby is right on schedule. “Grab your snack and go to the Lang’s they’re expecting you guys! Wait, come over here.” Ben and Sophie walk slowly toward their mom a little nervous after hearing that “don’t fuck with me” tone. She is laid out on the couch her stomach blocking her view of the kids’ faces. Before she can say anything, “Why can’t we go with you?”, whines Ben. Sophie starts crying, “Mommy I wanna stay with you!”. Her reign as the baby is about to end. Gwen responds tightly, “Get your snack and your bags by the door. I told you you can’t go daddy’s taking me to the hospital now move it.”

NOW-Three Weeks Later

Fire chars the spoon filled with bubbling dope. Gwen’s friend argues with her boyfriend, “Don’t give that to her!”, she says. “She wants it, right?”, he’s looking at Gwen. She shakes her head up and down. INSERT DOPE - [SUN SHINING BRIGHT BRIGHT YELLOW YELLOW BLINDING BLINDING LIGHT LIGHT RISING RISING JOY JOY FILLS EVERY CELL IN HER BODY SHE FEELS NO PAIN] [UNTIL EVERYTHING FALLS INTO THE NO GRAVITY FIELD DOWN TO THE GROUND. She knew it was false brain chemical neurons churning but God Damn This. Is It. Again Please.

THEN-7:32PM

Sophie and Ben are at the Lang’s. They both like Karen and they both like David. Well, Sophie really doesn’t like David, but she knows her mom would be mad if she said otherwise. Karen yells, “Dinner’s ready come on guys.” They walk into the dining room. David is already there. “Sit next to me sweet pea”, he says to Sophie. She sits next to him. “If you guys are good we can go get some ice cream.”

NOW-9:32PM

Matt holds their newborn baby girl, Madison. Gwen is inconsolable. “I can’t, where is she, she was crying, and, I kicked her out the door my god my god what have I done she just wanted me I didn’t have a second for her my sweet baby please forgive me Sophie please forgive mommy I can’t take this pain I want to die God please!”

THEN-8:30PM

She walks out the front door to her house and crawls in through Ben’s bedroom window. She didn’t want any ice cream and she’s tired from crying. She falls asleep on top of her parent’s bed.

NOW-10:20PM

The whole family is at the hospital in her room. “Sophie baby”, Gwen says gently. “Mommy loves you so much.”

THEN-9:13PM

David carries a sleeping Sophie to take her back to his house. She starts waking up and is startled to see him holding her. She screams and kicks out of his arms running right into the banister head first.

THEN-9:31PM

“Karen I have her. She was sleeping, and I must have surprised her. She ran into the banister going fast and knocked herself out. I’m calling 911 let Matt and Gwen know they are losing their minds over this.”

THEN-9:16PM

David checks to confirm she is breathing. She’s knocked out but she is breathing. She looks like she’ll be fine. Just in case, he thinks, I’ll call 911 and let Karen know. He looks at her.

THEN-9:18PM

Ben comes home through his bedroom window. He hears David talking to her. He runs into the living room and sees him doing something and freezes. He goes back to his bedroom.

NOW-One Week Later

Ben tells Gwen what he saw.