Walking with Heavy Feet

By Kimberly Williams

The books opening pages set up the voice of its engaging narrator whose character is accessible throughout the book. Among discovering a troublesome family secret, this intimate drama dynamically reveals how love always triumphs and how real life adversities are eventually balanced. This book is written with a definite purpose to keep the reader engaged through an expos of ongoing revelations.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781532015533

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Copyright © 2017 Kimberly Williams.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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

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

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-5320-1554-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-1553-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017902124

iUniverse rev. date: 03/02/2017

Contents

Introduction

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

INTRODUCTION

There are times when families are struck by disparaging episodes that may alter the family’s structural framework; either temporarily or forever. An absentee loved one can cause rifts in the family make up, as well. But, when those dynamics are presumably caused by a mental illness, families are forced to deal with new realities that may be painful – even taboo.

New realities can be harsh, but constructive outcomes do exist at the end of the rainbow. They really do. They may not consist of those ‘pots of gold’ we’ve always been taught we’d see, but instead, may come in the form of other sanctifications.

Walking With Heavy Feet takes you there … on a journey reflective to discovering that not all alterations in our family fiber are unwarranted.

-Kim

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my children,

K. T. and C. T.

May GOD keep you and always bless you. Mostly, may you both create a fruitful legacy that lasts generations and generations to come.

Mom

‘Walking With Heavy Feet’

is the sequel to

‘O’Peniel, Behind the Fans – no more cover ups’.

CHAPTER 1

"M ama, I know. I already know what still needs to be packed. And I’m still going down this checklist. You keep reminding me of too much! I continue loud enough to be heard over three stacks of boxes in the middle of the den’s floor. Mama, you, yourself, just stuffed my trunk full. It could barely close even after we’d both sat on top of it. And, where is my other suitcase?"

Wearing a frustrated frown, Mama says, What suitcase, Rhyah? while peering at me over the stacks of boxes.

The one I had put aside for my favorite blue jeans, t-shirts and sweaters … and I was going to put my Clark Atlanta University’s logo t-shirt in there, too. It’s that t-shirt they’d sent me once I’d signed up for my dorm room.

I don’t know, Rhyah, but, you’d better find it, she responds, pointing toward the window in the living room, Because I want all of this stuff packed and stacked in that corner over there before midnight. Besides, Sherman will be here early in the morning.

Mama walks away in search of any loose items still needing to be packed.

"Oh, here it is. I found it. Maaaammmma, it was behind that larger suitcase over there. Sounding relieved, Okay!" I hear her yell from within my room.

My body is motionless, but my mind is wandering all over the place. For a moment, I stop hunting for stuff and begin searching for an empty spot to help gather my thoughts.

"Well, house. I’ll be gone tomorrow;

Well, bedroom. I’ll only see you on holidays from now on;

Well, kitchen. I’ll be eating in dining halls for the next 4 years," I imagine sighing on the couch.

Yep, a sigh.

No smile.

No smile because I am going to miss Khoi. I’m going to miss everyone, in actuality. But, I am really going to miss my brother.

I love my brother. He’ll be here all alone with Mama. He will take care of her, though. But, here lately, it seems she’s really been the one having to take care of him.

Khoi was getting in trouble at school a lot toward the end of this past year. Mama had to go up to the high school and sit down with principals and most of his teachers. His grades were suffering as a result of him having skipped classes and not doing his homework. It’s only been recently that he hadn’t been doing so well in school.

Mama also found out right before school was to end for the summer that he had taken a final exam and had failed it. He failed it because he did not attempt to complete it. Instead of even attempting to do it, my brother wrote ‘I don’t know’ on all of the answer blanks.

How silly is that? I thought.

Then, the school’s counselor suggested Mama get him into therapy when he had gotten kicked off the football team during spring training. Mama found out he’d gotten kicked off for fighting another team mate during a spring scrimmage game. Poor grades had a lot to do with it, too, I think. I really think that’s why he got kicked off.

Mama, where’s Khoi?

Inspecting my closet, I don’t know, she forcibly grunts. Then complains, He knows you leave tomorrow to go off to college. He is supposed to be here tonight to help us pack.

Well, Mama, he’s probably with his friends, I inject in his defense.

Yea, right! she snaps. "… and his choice of friends are one of his problems, too!"

Mama’s cell phone rings.

The house phone rings, too.

Mama ignores the first two rings of both phones. Having been kneeling to look under my bed, she raises to begin walking toward her cell phone in her bedroom. I head the other way toward the house phone in our den.

Hello, is Ms. LeBlanc home? Some man commands on the other end of the line. Walking toward her room, Hold a moment, please.

Hanging up her cell phone, That was Gayla. She was just wanting to know how far we’d come with all of the packing this evening …..

I interrupt her. There’s someone on the home phone for you.

Who is it?

I don’t know, Mama. Some man, pushing the house phone toward her head.

She swings her long hair away up and away from her neck as if she’s irritated due to the caller’s distraction.

"Hello.

Yes, this is Ms. LeBlanc, Khoi’s mother." Mama lowers her forehead before resting it in her hand.

What? Oh, my goodness. I had no idea, ‘cause he’d left home earlier saying he was going to play basketball at Cherry Hill Park. But, like I said, that was earlier. Further lowering her head, Well, where is he right now?

Mama listens as the man informs her of something. Ok. I understand and thank you.

Mama pauses once more to let the man on the other end continue talking.

Yes, I understand. Thanks again, and I’ll be there in about 20 minutes, she finally tells him.

Mama snatches her purse and shoves it toward me. Using her own form of sign language, she motions for me to get her keys off the coffee table.

Then, remarks to herself, "I tried to call his cell phone earlier and didn’t get an answer. I am so tired of this…..just sick of this. He has got to get it together. Still talking to herself, Oh, yea! He will take that therapy now. He sure will and I mean that! I will not get sick behind his inability to get a grip on life. He’s not going to put me back in that hospital!"

What is it, Mama?

Who was that man? I continue to press.

What was that call about? What has happened, Mama? I add, only to still be ignored. What did he do? I continue as she, otherwise, heads straight into the kitchen.

Mama does not completely answer me. But, I hear her mumble some words about ‘something not being in her house’.

I know what she’s about to do next in that kitchen.

Yep.

I sure do!

You see, when Mama detects evil is around us, she’ll reach far back into the bottom of the pantry and get a hand full of red, brick dust from a small, plastic, covered bowl. She won’t use gloves, either. She digs in there with her bare hands. And she’ll pray a prayer that is meant only for God’s ears.

She’ll pray real hard.

So hard, her eyes automatically close by themselves.

I don’t know why she does this or where she got the brick dust idea from, but I’ve seen her do this ‘dust-thing’ several times in my life time.

Her method of operation - lightly placing dust at all entrances of the house. I guess it is supposed to remove evil spirits. Or, not allow anyone to enter whose intent is of an ill-will. I don’t know, but this is only what I assume. So, in this case, I’m sure Mama is going to place the dust down so that Khoi cannot bring any evil spirits inside this house when he arrives back home.

Looking serious, Rhyah Ann, keep up with my purse and hang on to my keys for a minute! she reminds me. Walking fast, she first steps right outside the front door. Quickly, she lays down a small amount of dust in a straight line. Staying out of her way, I see her step back to pray. Then, with heavy feet, Mama walks through the kitchen to head straight toward the garage door. Using almost no force at all, she twists open the garage door. She steps into the garage. Mama, then, repeats the same process. Afterwards, she pats her hands together; ridding them of any remaining dust.

Ok, Rhyah. Bring me my purse and keys now, please.

Forgetting about Khoi, Mama, why did you just do that?

"Nothing is coming in here, Rhyah, unless it’s for the G O O D! Those spirits aren’t coming in my house! Good and evil can’t be in the same place at the same time."

By now, Mama has let up the garage door and is starting her car.

She puts it in reverse, Continue packing, she goes on to say. I’ll be back in a minute. Then, uses her rearview mirror to guide backwards. I stand here staring at her hoping she’ll finally provide some answers. Finish packing, I said ... I’ll be back, she again demands, raising up the car’s window.

I am looking over my packing list, but can’t concentrate knowing there’s something possibly wrong with my brother; something that is evil enough for Mama to lay down dust.

Staring at all of these stacks, Should I go off to school or stay here with Mama and Khoi? I start to wonder.

"What did he do? I hope he’s not hurt? …and Mama is so tired," she said. I sure hope this does not make her sick, for real. If she has a crisis tonight, I may not be able to leave in the morning.

I might need to call Grandmommy. She’ll make things alright for us. She always does.

No.

Don’t.

Mama didn’t call her, so I shouldn’t, either.

Wait till Aunt Gayla finds out what has happened; she’ll get Khoi back ‘in-check’ real quick."

Sitting here talking to myself and daydreaming is not going to get this stuff packed. I decide to walk back into my room. On the way, I choose to otherwise go into Khoi’s room to reminisce a bit. Trying to make sense of his drastic behavioral changes over this last year is just so puzzling.

He acts weird now.

I mean weird!

Really, really weird…..and sometimes mean! Then, there’s times when he’s upbeat and happy.

I agree with Mama. These unexplained changes he’s going through have got to go! Stuff like: the fight at school last spring; another one on the park’s basketball court or him barricading himself in his room for no apparent reason.

It’s silly not to do your school work. The muttering and talking to himself is disgusting. He’ll even wear dark sunshades or drape a towel over his head when he talks to himself. Then, there’s when he paces the floor, unable to sleep for days at a time. This ‘pacing thing’ just happened again the other night.

I thought Mama was going to knock him out the day he bucked up to her just because she refused to give him any money. Mama was using words that day that I didn’t even know she knew. Khoi does not want to go to school most of the time. He just wants to sleep during the day and roam around at night. Or, on the flip-side, he’ll be so hyper that he can’t even sit still – for days.

Then there’s something else. My Uncle Sherman got Khoi a job earlier this summer at some warehouse. Soon after, my brother was fired for showing up consistently late.

Mama cried the day he was fired.

I cried seeing her cry.

But, again. I know Mama’s serious this time because she put that dust out.

I am surprised she didn’t also open all the windows while praying with a Bible in her hand and sprinkling holy water.

Knowing there’s still some packing to do, I get up to go into my room but, notice cigar wrappers lying in plain sight in Khoi’s trash can.

Is Khoi smoking cigars, now?! Oh, my goodness! My face goes numb as I pick the wrappers up. What is this doing in the trash can?

Between the trash can and his bed post lies some loose tobacco on the floor. Trying to rub the numbness away in my face, I bend down to further inspect the tobacco and sense a funny odor from under his bed. A funny odor that smells sort of like when you’ve crossed a skunk’s path. Raising the covers, I see two plastic bags filled with marijuana. The smell becomes really pungent - even with this strawberry-scented air freshener he has sitting next to them.

"Wait!!

What???

What is this???" I say with a pounding heart.

Right next to the bags of marijuana is a gun!!!

Yes! A gun sits here, too!

Oh, my God!!!!! Mama is going to freak-out!!!!!!

Not wanting to touch the gun or the marijuana bags, What is wrong with my brother? I question out loud.

Oh, my goodness! feeling the numbness return to my shocked face.

I’m startled that I am witnessing this stuff. My beating heart endures equal to my disbelief.

With my mouth wide open, Oh, my goodness! I repeat once more.

Khoi is definitely out of control, I remark within earshot of anybody who could possibly hear me.

At this point, I don’t know whether I should call Mama’s cell phone to inform her of my new discovery or wait till Khoi gets home to discuss what I’d found with him only.

Or, call Grandmommy.

No.

Just wait! my conscious tells me.

Not wanting to disturb the evidence, I put his bed covers back down.

I stare blankly at a wall in here. Locked in thought and still on bended knees, I am unable to rise until I hear the garage door opening up.

Full of thoughts, I run toward the den.

Mama, where is Khoi?

He’s getting out of the car.

Mama’s eyes are blood-shot red and her hair is now loosely wrapped in a hair band. She appears frazzled and she’s been crying.

Rhyah Ann, have you finished packing?

Yes, ma’am, just about.

I told you… I need all of this done by 12 midnight so that we can get some rest. Then, interrupts herself to further say, And FYI: Change of plans. Khoi, nor myself, will be going with you and Sherman tomorrow. I have to help your brother with a few things. I’ll call Sherman to tell him in a second.

Ahhh ... Mama, why not?

Rhyah, I’ll explain later, she quickly discloses, blocking anymore questions that could come from me. But, continues on to say, "It’s getting late. Time is ticking away and Khoi’s issues have sidetracked us big time! I’ve got phone calls to make and you’ve got to make sure that you’re all ready to go in the morning."

Looking at our family portrait, my curiosity turns into sadness. Mama must notice my feelings, too, as she swiftly passes me. I am so sorry, honey, Mama says walking into her room. I know this time period is supposed to be so memorable for you, but we’ll talk. Just let me make several calls first. I have to do some important things for your brother.

Deciding to finally re-check my room, I reach for a pillow to comfort me. Smashing it against my face only temporarily relieves the regret I am left with since they won’t be going. "What type of help is Khoi needing that will keep them from experiencing the best day of my life? I use a corner of the pillow to get rid of any lingering tears. I’ll be in Atlanta - miles and miles away and no telling when I’ll see the two of them again."

CHAPTER 2

K hoi still hasn’t entered the house. With moisture still in my eyes, I leave my room to go find him. I open the door to the garage only to discover him leaning up against Mama’s car with an old, oily rag wrapped around his head and neck.

He’s in the dark.

The garage light’s timer apparently expired minutes ago.

Khoi, why are you in the dark? Come in the house. This garage is hot. Nor, is it safe or healthy for you to inhale these oily fumes.

I step forward to take his arm. He resists and locks his hand around my arm, instead.

"Why are you leaving me with her? Why are you leaving me with that woman?

Huh, Rhyah?

Why?

You know how she trips. She doesn’t understand a damn thing we