Suffering in Silence: August 15th, 2003

By Caleb Harris

. Ricky has just buried his loving but sometimes unruly mother which has left him heartbroken. However, nothing compares to his complex relationship with his father Tyrone Johnson. One minute he was a playful giant that Ricky idolized but when he drank, he became an unpredictable monster. Months later, Ri

• Language: English
• Publisher: Caleb Harris
• Release date: Aug 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781637323779

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Caleb Harris

Suffering in Silence

Copyright © 2020 by Caleb Harris

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Caleb Harris asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

Caleb Harris has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

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Contents

1. Chapter 1

2. Chapter 2

3. Chapter 3

4. Chapter 4

5. Chapter 5

6. Chapter 6

7. Chapter 7

8. Chapter 8

9. Chapter 9

10. Chapter 10

11. Chapter 11

12. Chapter 12

13. Chapter 13

1

Chapter 1

August 14th, 2018

I rolled out of my bed from yet another nightmare! I grabbed my phone to check the time and it was 11:23 in the morning. Damn! Usually, I’m up by 6:00, but my mother died last Tuesday and since then I hadn’t been the same. I still remember lying in bed trying to sleep, when my Uncle called me.

My Uncle’s voice was shaking but I didn’t pay it any mind. I should have known something was off, because it was odd; he usually never called me, we just text. He told me that my mom died in her sleep at 2:33 that morning. Initially, I was in shock, but I laughed it off thinking he was joking. That’s when he broke it down to me that he would never joke around like that. My jaw dropped as the news settled inside me and all I could do was cry hysterically. I hung up the phone and stayed up the rest of the night. Ever since that day everything has been a blur, I’ve been just merely me going through the motions.

Last night was another night I couldn’t sleep; the thunderstorms had me tossing and turning. Getting out of bed, I found my pillows and covers on the ground. It seemed as if my outside matched my insides, as my whole body was in excruciating pain, especially my lower back. I looked outside and it was still raining. You’d think the sun would come out to play, but I guess when someone you love dies, the sun vanishes from your life.

I can’t really complain too much because since my mom died, I was able to take time off. However, starting tomorrow, my mini vacation will officially be over. Substitute teachers don’t get summers off, so here I am. Lucky for me, I’ve saved money and to add to it my Uncle wired me some funds a couple of days ago. Tomorrow is the last day of summer school anyway so I should be fine.

I can’t even worry too much about tomorrow. I have to get ready for my mother’s funeral today. It’s at 12:30 p.m. and I haven’t left myself much time to get ready. I rush to the bathroom for a quick shower, brush my teeth, and squeeze into my suit.

‘Man, I need to lose some weight’, I think as I look at myself in the mirror and how my belly is straining in my suit. Then I remember why I have the suit on, and it hits me, she’s gone. When it rains it pours because now, I’m realizing the only parent that I have is my father, Tyrone Johnson. Him and I really don’t see eye- to eye on anything.

Whelp! Here goes nothing I guess… I grabbed my keys, wallet, gum, cigarettes, a dime bag of weed, a lighter and stuffed them all into my pockets, then locked my apartment door and headed outside to my car.

There was no way I was going to my mom’s funeral sober. I can’t handle everyone staring at me like I’m crazy. In my car, I pull my rolling papers out of my glove compartment. How to roll a good joint is very simple. You have to put the weed in first and then sprinkle a pinch of tobacco on top. From here, lick one side of the paper and roll the rest to form a joint. Now, it’s time to spark! I took a couple of hits and put it out, then put the joint in the glove compartment along with my cigarettes and lighter.

‘Ugh, this isn’t going to be easy but I gotta be strong. I just gotta be strong.’ I thought to myself. I turned my car on and drove down to Mt. Maria Baptist Church in Hartford, CT. Usually, I play music but I’m not in the mood to listen to any right now. I’m too heartbroken. As I drive, I can picture myself sitting down with my mother, eating together like we did every Sunday.

We were very close. Two years ago, I had finally moved out, but I always went home for Sunday dinner. My mother didn’t want me to move out but as soon as I got my first official teaching job I bounced. I didn’t want to be considered a ‘Mama’s Boy’ anymore.

Sunday dinners with her were special, Ma’s meatloaf was always the best. She used a special recipe that called for ground beef, bell peppers, spinach, onions, and mashed potatoes. Mama never told me the herbs and spices she used though. She was always such a kind-warmhearted woman. I don’t know what I’m going to do without her, but hopefully I’ll figure something out.

Somehow, I arrived on time with 30 minutes to spare. Luckily, no one is here yet. I parked my car in the back of the church, hoping when the others arrive that they won’t see me. ‘Ah shit! I forgot my speech!’ I knew I left the house too early. ‘Fuck! Alright, just calm down. You can just speak from the heart. I mean people love that. Besides, it’ll seem more organic. Nah, I gotta write something. But what should I write? I need some inspiration.’ I opened up my glove compartment to get my joint, a pen and some paper and started to write.

My mother was a great woman who always put others first.

I scratch it out and write, my mother was an exceptional woman who always thought of others. There that sounds better. Alright, let’s make this quick. I only got thirty minutes left. I said out loud. She was…

I tapped my pen on my steering wheel several times because I didn’t know what else to write. I really should go back to my place and get my speech, but I don’t even know where it is. Plus, I’m not driving all the way back to my place just to deal with the awful traffic around this time of the day and also, I’m short on time. Suddenly, I hear a knock on my car window. I dropped my joint and my pen. Shit! I hope I don’t burn anything in here. I quickly stomped on my joint and now the whole car smells like weed.

After a few seconds of waving my hand to clear the smoke I calmly rolled the window down to see who it was. It was my mother’s sister Roberta. Her and my mother weren’t very close, so I’m not sure how to react right now. It’s funny how black people always show up at your funeral but whenever you call or text them you never get a response.

Hi… I nervously responded.

Is that weed, Ricky, do you know what the good lord says about weed? It’s the devil’s magic. You better cut that out. You know what happened to cousin Bobby when he was in college. Ended up in the hospital when he was 19 years old talking about how he was a spaceman. That boy lost his mind and had us paying thousands of dollars for hospital fees. Over here talking about, ‘The walls were closing in on him’ all he had to do was pray and God would have cured his drug addiction. Roberta chatted on and on.

My Aunt, well, my mother’s sister is a die-hard Christian. She really believes God can fix any and everything. What she doesn’t know is that Bobby struggled with a cocaine addiction, it wasn’t weed. She’s so stupid, weed doesn’t do that to you. If she only talked to Bobby as I did, she would understand his demons. That they were from his father, her husband Charles, dying when he was just 16. Bobby didn’t give a damn. He was 22 and didn’t have much going for himself. He was always hitchhiking or couch surfing because he didn’t have a place to stay. The last time I saw him he was 5’9, 127 pounds and he looked awful.

His father Charles died of a purposeful drug overdose. No one knows why he took his life but who knows what anybody does nowadays. Bobby struggled to cope so he obviously turned to cocaine because Roberta, his mother, kept saying awful things like, That no good Charles, the devil took over his soul, he wasn’t going to be much anyway. Yeah, the good old Christian woman said all of this. She’s still single too. Always preaching to everybody! If only God could fix her weight problem and that fucking mouth of hers because she never shuts up.

Ricky, you betta’ cut that out now. Your mamma didn’t raise a druggie! scolded Roberta.

Yes, Aunt Roberta! I said in shame.

Anyway, how’s everything else been? Where are you working right now? Roberta asked, her expression changing from concerned to happy as she changed the subject.

I haven’t been up too much. Just got a job as a teacher.

Oh, what school? she asked

Uh, Henry Ridgemont King Middle School, you know in Hartford?

Oh, that’s good to hear. Your Mamma would be so proud. Lord knows she would be so proud of you baby!

I’m sure she would. Where’s Bobby? I asked

Oh, he’s at work. He finally got a job at Foot Locker in Enfield. Boy, it’s about time he’s getting it together!

Well, I mean he did have a drug problem and when Charles died, he took it pretty hard; you know… I tried to explain.

Oh, hush that up. It’s always your generation trying to play psychology, but you never want to come to the church and confess your sins to God. God is your everything child. You, Bobby and the rest of your generation better repent your sins or else the devil will come to collect y’all souls.

I just nodded my head. I was so done with her bullshit. God doesn’t even exist. If he did Roberta wouldn’t act the way she did.

Don’t nod your head at me like that. You young punks are so disrespectful. Always rolling your eyes and sucking your teeth. God gonna getcha! Roberta yelled.

I decided I was not putting up with her bull any longer. I rolled up my window and ignored her. Not one to give up, Roberta kept knocking on my window. Hell, she could have broken the window for all I care. I don’t even want this piece of shit Altima anyway!

Finally, she got the hint and stormed off. Oh well! I have to finish this speech and I only have a couple of minutes to do so! As of now, my speech reads: My mother was an exceptional woman who always thought of others. I began to write again: She cared for me dearly and we always laughed together. I could come to her with anything. My mother has always remained a great woman of character. Even when her own character was being tested, she never overreacted and remained quite stoic in her approach. She’s overcome a lot in her life. Especially when my father…

I took a deep breath. My hand is beginning to shake, Okay, maybe I should stop right here. No, I’m going to keep writing… I mean, should I write this or? I questioned out loud.

I continued to write… my father would tear her down constantly with a mirage of insults. I paused again. ‘That wasn’t so bad now was it. Alright, from here I just call it on the fly. I don’t need to keep going. Besides, they need to know the truth. Right? Eh… I don’t know! Maybe… Okay, I’ll just not say that part but everything else is fine!’ I told myself.

I checked my phone and it was now 12:26 p.m.

Alright, well, here goes nothing… I shoved the eulogy in my pocket, turned off my car, locked it and walked inside the church. I was immediately greeted by a couple of people that my mother knew. I’m tuning most of it out because they are all saying the same thing. Sorry for your loss, your mother was a great woman, if there is anything that you need. I’m here for you. The same old, same old. I know they’re concerned but I’m not in the mood. I just want to give my eulogy and bury my mother. I mean she’s dead, that’s all there is to it. I don’t even know most of these people. But I don’t wanna be rude. I make my hellos and head to the front row of the church.

The service starts and I listen as the Pastor and others speak about how great my mother was. I’m tuning out most of it because it’s so fake to me. I mean, I never met this man before and I don’t even remember his name. Everybody is clapping, crying and it’s very emotional but I don’t feel anything. I mean, I’m sad but I get the feeling my mother wouldn’t want this. She wouldn’t want everyone to be sad. She would want everyone to rejoice, not because she’s died but because life is worth living. She once told me, Life is such a beautiful experience Ricky. Every day I want you to go outside and smell the fresh air. I would ask her why. She replied, Because it means you’re alive and well. That’s what matters, you are alive to give life one more try!

And at this time, may we have brother Ricky Johnson grace us with his eulogy. Come on son let the good lord bless ya’ now! said the Pastor.

A man taps me on the shoulder, and I raise my head. Standing up, I approach the podium. Everyone is silent. An older lady yells out, Preach baby preach.

I took my speech out of my pocket and pulled the microphone close to my mouth so they could all hear me.

Hello everyone. As you all know I’m Richard Johnson, but I go by Ricky. I don’t like Richard that much; it makes me feel old. I tried to start off with a joke, but I got nervous as no one laughed. So, I took a deep breath and put my paper on the podium to read.

My mother was an exceptional woman who always thought of others. She cared for me very dearly. We always laughed together, and I could come to her at any time. I can remember my mother as being a great woman of character even when her own character was being tested. She never overreacted and always remained quiet and stoic in her approach. She had overcome a lot in her life. Especially with my father constantly tearing her down all the time.

The whole church went silent and whispered among each other. I take it that my mother never told any of them that my father was verbally abusive. After I said that, I felt so embarrassed. Looking around at everyone, I froze. Then I just bolted. Running to my car I turned the ignition on and drove out of there. Leaving everyone at the church in shock. But I just couldn’t help myself. I’ve held onto that nugget of information for far too long.

You see my father’s name is Tyrone. He had a habit of drinking heavily after his shift at Fed-Ex, add to that Dad always had problems expressing how he felt. Whenever he