To Forsake the Truth

By Beata Marks

To Forsake The Truth is a politically action packed drama that begins in a working class neighborhood fictionally titled Lawndale & Harvard a community once economically prowess now a urban waste land devastated by an explosive drug epidemic. Out of that destruction yielded the need for understanding, which meant leaving behind the carnage for a ancient nation once known by it's historical name, Great Zimbabwe. A nation recognized for its stone sculptures, Victoria Falls, Iron Metal industry and a once flourishing gold trade. Great Zimbabwe's capital city Harare and Lawndale & Harvard would form an educational link in the middle of a political upheaval that dangerously creates a division among the elite and the political heavy weights of Zimbabwe while a psychological and biological game of war slithers in, in an attempt to destroy this link between the two societies.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781467035040

Beata Marks

Author Beata Marks is a freshmen novelist who began her pursuit of writing for her college news paper the Cleveland Stater. She wrote major stories that occurred on and near the campus of Cleveland State University. One of the stories she covered for the Cleveland Stater was a story about the city of Cleveland Cultural Gardens located in Rockefeller Park. The garden is a mosaic of individual gardens that showcased the cultures of various countries around the world that were presented by those who immigrated from those nations and chose Cleveland, Ohio as their permanent home. Each garden offers a fascinating story about culture and immigration, which inspired Ms. Marks to write. Her inspiration evolved into a desire to write literature with intrigue and entertainment. She writes about her characters with divinity taking the reader on a journey of each character's life path giving the characters an destiny of uncertainty.

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© 2013 by Beata Marks. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. All the characters, names, incidents, places, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Published by AuthorHouse 05/30/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4670-3503-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4670-3504-0 (e)

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Introduction: Narcissism, Vanity, Discord & Bitterness

1: Commencement Day: New Beginnings

2: The Motive Is Selfishness

3: The Formation of a Real Alliance & the Act of Self-Sabotage

4: What Would You Do for Money?

5: A Covert Operation

6: The Battle Begins

7: Mind Control

8: WAR

9: Friends Only When It’s Convenient

Glossary

About the Author

About the Book

Introduction

Narcissism, Vanity, Discord & Bitterness

Dynasty, a television show that I watched as a teen, hyped materialism. It showcased the designer gowns, brand-name casual wear, jewelry, makeup, and hairstyles that determined an era of power, narcissism, and greed. My coming of age occurred during that time, it motivated my materialistic dreams. In pursuit of my own material fantasy I would forsake my personal well-being, and almost pay the ultimate price.

On the cool, misty evening of October 27, 2003, I lay peacefully on the floor, face up next to the stairwell in the dining area of a restaurant. Before my sudden loss of consciousness, I’d been working twelve-, fourteen-, and sometimes twenty-hour shifts. This, combined with other forms of stress and my weight of 250 pounds, proved too much for my 5'5 frame. As I lay on the dingy carpet, vaguely aware of the odor from the accumulated dirt, I was in a restful state. This was the best sleep I’d had in a long time, and so I fought to stay unconscious, attempting to ignore the sound of the startled voices that repeatedly called my name, Alicia! Alicia! I opened my eyes to a sea of troubled faces—my coworkers. We were at a company function after work, and I had fallen unconscious, still holding a sandwich in my hand. Now that I was awake, everyone began pressing me with questions: Are you okay? Did you hit your head?" Disoriented, I struggled to form the words to answer their questions.

I kept hearing someone say, Call an ambulance! I managed to respond, asking that they not call an ambulance. I feared facing multiple hospital bills, as the only health insurance that I could afford at the time was a policy with 20 percent coverage of doctor visits and ER services. However, it was too late: two paramedics had already walked in, hurried toward me, and knelt at the right and left of me. The paramedic to my left removed the sandwich from my hand. The men’s expressions indicated that they felt they were about to be overworked, and I was embarrassed. One of them asked me to assist them by pulling myself up from the floor. I could not blame them for not wanting to lift someone of my size. As the three of us walked toward the gurney, I felt sharp, needlelike pains in the center of my chest. Beads of sweat began to form across my forehead. The paramedics inserted oxygen tubes into both nostrils.

The ambulance brought me to the hospital, and I remained in ICU for four days. None of my coworkers knew much about my family. The ICU nurse asked me whom she should inform about my condition. I told her to contact my great-uncle, William; Uncle Will was the only one who could comfort me in this delicate situation. Uncle Will visited me, usually by himself but sometimes accompanied by my cousins. I contacted Todd and Evelyn, Uncle Will told me. I was not happy, but I said nothing. Todd and Evelyn did come to see me one afternoon, but that was their first and only visit. Uncle Will came to see me frequently; he was as faithful as I knew he would be. As my hospital stay lengthened, I fell into a deep depression, and my mind traveled back. twenty-six years

* * *

The year was 1977, I watched my mother, Afeni, as she stood in front of the bedroom mirror, combing her thick, long, brown hair. It was early evening on a Saturday, and she was getting ready for a night out with her coworkers. She wore green wide-leg paints and a white blouse with a multicolor design. My mom had a petite build, the complete opposite of my heavyset figure, and she looked beautiful. She perfumed herself with a sweet smelling fragrance. I continued to watch her hair flow across her shoulders as she combed it, the ends slightly frizzed from the afternoon humidity. She still looked glamorous to me.

At that time Mom and I lived in a duplex. We had just moved in after living with my father, Todd, for four years. My parents had never been close. My birth had come as quite a shock to my father, but it had brought my mother much joy, just as the nine months of her pregnancy had. Earlier in the week my mother had told me that I would be staying with Todd for part of the weekend. I had no emotional reaction upon learning that, but I would have little to no interaction with my father. He usually left me to stay with his mother, Evelyn. During the winter months, I would remain at his house for the whole weekend, sitting in front the television. Because it was still warm out, I chose to stay outside, spending my time searching for someone to play with.

It was late September, but it still felt like summer. I arrived at Todd’s home that night to experience the usual behavior. He left me with his current girlfriend, Yolanda, a woman Todd settled for after the one he really wanted—my mother—had moved on. Yolanda and Todd had met casually, but I could tell that she wanted more than just a casual relationship. I wondered why she had stayed around for so long. When I woke the next morning Yolanda was gone; she had left, too frustrated to deal with Todd’s standoffish behavior. I put on a short-sleeved pink T-shirt, my bell-bottom jeans, and the matching jean jacket with a Raggedy Ann patch on the left-side of my jacket.

Stepping out of the room where I’d slept, I walked into the living room and turned on the television, sitting in the red velvet recliner to wait for my mother to come pick me up. I fell back to sleep while waiting. As the sun rose higher, I felt the cool early morning air, brushing across the left side of my face after hearing the opening of the door. I moved some but wouldn’t open up eyes. For an instant, the smell of cologne and perspiration quickly permeated the room then vanished. The vibrations of heavy footsteps would not allow me to fall back to sleep. I opened my eyes and saw Todd. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows. He walked pass me, not saying a word, and I lay back in the recliner. I heard him in the shower, and then I drifted back to sleep.

It seemed like I had slept for hours, but it was actually only for a few minutes. I awoke to the pressure of Todd’s large hand wrapped around my small ankle, roughly shaking my whole body. His stern voice rumbled, Wake up! He stood in front of me, dressed in a pair of jeans, a turtleneck sweater, and a dark leather coat. We went outside, got into his car, and drove over to Evelyn’s house.

When we arrived I stayed in the car. Looking out of the passenger-side window, I saw Evelyn appear at the side door. She wore a blank expression as she stared back at me. Todd asked his mother if I could stay with her for a few hours. Evelyn responded by shrugging her shoulders. Todd opened the passenger-side door, and I got out of the car, attempting to walk past Evelyn without saying hello. Todd grabbed my left shoulder, demanding that I speak to his mother. Feeling the pain from the powerful grip, I looked up at Evelyn and stammered, H-hello.

The three of us stood at the top of the basement stairs. I look down the stairs and saw two small pairs of feet. When I walked downstairs I saw that it was Linda and Pam, my cousins, sitting on the sofa. Ahmir my eldest cousin—Linda and Pam’s brother—had just begun a semester at a local college. Pam and Linda stayed with Evelyn while uncle Will took Ahmir to school. They greeted me as I came into the basement. I felt more comfortable because my cousins were there. We ate dinner and then went back down to the basement to watch television.

Evelyn appreciated her nieces whose traits showed a keen resemblance to my father and great-uncle—their father, William—they all had coffee-colored complexions and dark-brown hair of varied textures. Both Pam and Linda had dark-brown eyes and small facial features, and their petite figures were more like my mother’s than mine. I had inherited my father’s build: stocky frame and medium height and hair that was unmanageable like Evelyn’s. At the time of my birth, Evelyn had questioned my relation to her family, but as I grew, members of the family constantly reminded my parents of how much I resembled Evelyn; we shared a very plain appearance, and our skin tones lacked the richness of mahogany.

My father’s family shared a bond that is now rare in our communities. Nevertheless, his view of my mother was quite the opposite of Evelyn’s. Todd wanted my mother to play a significant role not only in his life but also in his family. For Todd, my mother’s involvement in his family’s traditions accentuated the existing connection. My mother and father often had