Isis: Death of a Theta

By Shawn James

Requiem. In this flashback story set in 1973, Isis is called to the Theta House by her sorority sisters who want her to step down from her leadership role the Senior Grand Mother. With her mortal alias Andrea Robinson being 98-years-old,and Isis being immortal, they fear that if she continues on with the organization her secret may be revealed, and their mission compromised in the Black community.

Coming to terms with her aging secret identity, Isis realizes that she has to start making plans to get her human affairs in order. As she lays down her life of her alias in the mortal world for her friends, Isis comes to realize that she has to have faith in the women she taught to build on the foundation she established and pass it on to the next generation of Theta sisters

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shawn James
• Release date: Feb 23, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310589669

Shawn James

Shawn James is the author of over seventy Books. A graduate of Monroe College he's been writing fiction and nonfiction for twenty years.

Book preview

ISIS:

Death of a Theta

By Shawn James

Copyright © 2013, 20l6 Shawn James

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Published by SJS DIRECT, Bronx, NY, 10456

Chapter 1

December 1973

I bop my head to The Jackson Five song playing on the 8-track stereo as my cherry red 1969 Mustang convertible maneuvers around the winding roads of Oneonta County. With the way this car handles the curves, I should be there right on time for the emergency meeting Alma called.

My baby purrs as I stop the car in front of the tall black wrought iron gates in front of the Theta Estate and reach into the glove box for the remote control that opens them. When I press the button, the gates open and I hit the gas and race up the pebble lined driveway up the hill to the sprawling estate. I park the car in front of one of the garage ports and inhale the sweet dew in the afternoon air as I grab my cane and use it to help me steady myself as I step out of the car.

It’s a long shuffle down the pathway and up the limestone steps up to the tall mahogany doors of the grand Grecian styled mansion’s facade. Forty years ago I’d have made this trip in a quick sprint. These days when I come to the Theta House I have to take a moment to catch my breath before I buzz the doorbell. After a few seconds pass, the door cracks open and I’m greeted by the Thetas’ housekeeper Esmerelda. The petite bronze skinned Indian woman dressed in a black formal maid’s uniform gives me a smile as I meet her brown eyes with mine.

Miss Robinson. It’s a pleasure to see you.

As it is you Esmerelda. Have the other Sisters arrived?

They’re in the ballroom.

All the way at the other side of the house. They couldn’t have used the dining room?

Alma says you need the exercise.

I thought I was getting enough of a workout getting out of the car and heading down the walkway to the house. If I knew things were going to be this hard years later, I’d have built Alma a town house instead of a mansion. Esmerelda keeps her eyes on me as I shuffle through the grand white marble vestibule. She gets the tall mahogany door for me and I make my way onto the parquet floors of the main hall. I’m halfway to the ballroom when I hear her rushing behind me. Wow, you’re fast for a woman your age. Esmerelda says.

You should have seen me doing the hundred meters at Spelman. I reply.

Esmerelda chuckles as she opens the tall mahogany doors of the ballroom for me. When we step into the grand room it’s decorated with Black tablecloths and curtains. With it being Christmastime, I thought Alma would decorate it with more festive colors. We only use Black linens here when we’re either examining pledges or when we’re disciplining them.

Seated at the banquet table are the senior officers of the Theta Sorority. Senior Grand Mother Alma Travis, Senior Dean Mother Edna Flowers, and Dean Mother Millicent Anderson. They’re all wearing elegant black sheath dresses, heels, and church hats along with the platinum and diamond Theta pins on the breasts of their dresses. My friends greet me with somber looks as I approach the table. They must have some really bad news to report.

Good afternoon ladies. I greet. What’s with all the black?

Before anyone says anything, Alma gives Esmerelda a look and she walks out closes the door behind us. Because it’s a sad time for us all Andi. Edna says."

My eyes grow wide as I look over at Millicent. I hope nothing happened to her baby. Is Colleen okay-

No, Colleen is fine. Millicent replies. She’s with her father upstairs.

Then what’s got everyone upset? I ask.

Alma’s dull brown eyes meet mine. She chokes back tears. Isis, we appreciate everything you’ve done to establish this sisterhood for us. How you’ve helped countless young Negro girls grow up to become great young women and even greater mothers. But there’s no way you can continue on with our organization.

Chapter 2

I’m taken aback by the words coming out of the mouth of one of my oldest and dearest friends. As kind and compassionate as they are, they still feel like a knife going through my heart.

You want me to step down as Senior Grand Mother? I bristle.

There’s no way you can continue on as Andrea Robinson Isis. Alma continues. The pledges are starting to get suspicious.

What would make them suspicious?

Come on, Andi, you’re supposed to be 98-years-old. But when you’re with the kids you use slang like an eighteen-year-old. Edna says.

And you eat like a sixteen-year-old. Alma jabs. At my age I can’t eat half the stuff you scarve down. Heck, I can’t even digest half the spicy stuff you scarve down anymore.

Hey, I just don’t want to come off as a stuffy old lady-

I’d say you’re doing that too well. Edna continues. Not that many senior citizens your age have the dexterity to drive a Mustang convertible.

Edna, you know that Lincoln Continental convertible I bought just doesn’t handle as well. Powder blue piece of crap-

But that’s what dignified older women like you are supposed to drive. Alma says.

"Come on Alma, I still have a good forty years left