Chapter 22
Zant
I was sure by now
God, you would have reached down
And wiped our tears away,
Stepped in and saved the day
{‘Praise You In The Storm’ -Casting Crowns}
The next morning after Club 3, I wake up to the sun blinding me. I love this town. I know I’ve mentioned it is why I came back but knowing I’m home gives me peace. I climb out of bed and the thoughts and memories of last night hit me. I groan as I pull on my jeans and search for a clean t-shirt. After pulling one on that smells pretty decent, I go to the kitchen for coffee.
About an hour later, I hear a knock at my door. Apprehensively, I make my way to the door. I know it isn’t Levi or Chance. It’s too early for either of them.
It can only be one other person. Now that she knows I’m in town, I should expect her to come by.
When I open the door, it isn’t Micah standing there.
It’s Kelly.
“Good morning Zant. How are you?” She talks to me like she is gentle and kind. But I can feel the murderous vibe coming off of her. I can even hear her teeth grinding together.
“Cut the crap Kelly. Don’t be nice because we both know you’re wanting to slit my throat right now. What do you want?” I don’t feel like playing games with her. That isn’t my style and she should know that.
“Ok. Mr. Wise Guy. What the heck is your problem? Is that better?” She flips her hair and just looks at me. Like she’s judging me or something. She knows nothing about me or my feelings. I don’t need her crap.
“My problem? What’s my problem? You’re here first thing this morning trying to pretend like you’re going to be nice and just talk to me. When we both know that isn’t your way. You’re trying to placate me before you go in for the kill and I don’t appreciate it.”
“I just need to know what to tell my best friend. She woke up crying and with a million questions that no one can answer but you and you just ran off and left her again. I’m just trying to be a good friend, like you use to be, and help her.” The look in her eye is a little less murderous and has filled with compassion for her friend. I know that she wants to help Micah. She just doesn’t know how and she thinks coming here will give her the answers that she needs to give Micah.
I hate to disappoint them both, but they won’t find the answers that they are looking for or wanting here.
“Listen Kelly. I have my reasons for leaving Micah. Both times. I don’t expect you to understand. I really don’t expect Micah to understand, but I am doing her a favor. She doesn’t need me. The only thing that I am good for is reminding her of the horrible things that have happened in her life. She doesn’t need that and me staying away from her will give her the peace that she deserves. She can move on and have a happy normal life.” I say all that without looking at Kelly. I know that she won’t get it but I don’t want to see the pity in her eyes. I don’t want her to feel sorry for me. I’m making peace with my life. I am moving on and making the best of things.
When I do look at her, there is rage all over her face.
Not what I was expecting.
I take a step back which puts me into the house more and gives her room to come in.
She does just that so I close the door and turn to look at her.
“Zant Michael Taylor!” She says my name. My whole name. I know that a lecture is coming now. I almost feel nervous.
“You honestly believe all of that? You honestly believe all of the bullshit that just came out of your mouth?”
I just nod. There really isn’t anything to say. I don’t really think she was asking a literal question anyway.
“Listen Kelly. I am doing what I think is best for Micah. That is all I have done. That is what I have done since I met her.” I lay it out there for her. I need her to understand. She may not, but I am going to make my point.
“Life has been a mess for Micah because of me and my family. I will not cause her any more pain. I moved away from here so she could have a better life. Without me. Without the memories. Without the pain. I will not take that away from her.”
She looks at me like I’ve grown another head. “You have no idea, do you? Zant, Micah is not better off without you. She is lost without you.”
She turns and walks out the door. Leaving me there just staring after her and crushed.
That did not go how I thought it would. Is she right?
It’s been two weeks. I’ve finalized everything on the house. I’m now a homeowner. However, I am wondering if I’m doing the right thing with being here.
Zant, Micah is not better off without you. She is lost without you.
Kelly’s words keep running through my head. Have I really been staying away from Micah for nothing? Have I hurt her more by staying away?
I don’t know and I’m a little scared to find out. If my staying away has caused her more pain, how am I any better than the actual person that hurt her?
I blame myself for a lot of the past but I do stop at the fact that I personally didn’t hurt her. I have believed that I brought pain into her life, but I would never purposely hurt her.
But, have I been?
It’s a lingering question that has run through my head for the past two weeks and it is killing me.
It’s Wednesday night and I am heading to church.
I have been going to church since I could safely walk to the church on the next block from my house. I didn’t ask permission from Roy. He never knew where I went on Wednesday nights and Sundays. This was my secret. I never knew how much I needed God until He found me.
When I was 7, I had to leave my house. Dad had hit me pretty hard across the face and I ran outside. My mind was telling me to get as far away as my legs could take me. I made it a block. I was out of breath and found myself sitting on the steps of Missions Baptist Church. When I looked up from where I had landed on those brick steps, there was an old lady sitting in a rocking chair next to the door of the church.
I just looked at her. My legs would not let me leave and my brain would not let me speak. It felt like the only ability I had was to look and listen.
Now I know God was trying to teach me those particular skills early on.
She spoke to me. She had a grandmotherly voice and it sounded like angels singing. “Hello baby boy,” she said.
I just kept staring at her. Why was she calling me a baby? I wasn’t a baby. But still, I couldn’t speak.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’ve just been sitting here enjoying this nice afternoon breeze. Would you like some tea?” The old woman asked me.
I nod my head and move up the steps closer to her.
She continues to talk to me in a soothing voice. “Young man, do you know why you landed here on these steps?”
I shake my head no. I really don’t know. I don’t even know where I’m at. I just knew at that moment that I needed to sit down.
“Well, I think you need to be here. I think God sent you here to see me. I think you need this building that is behind us. What do you think?”
I finally formulate a way to speak, “Where am I? What is this place?”
The old woman said, “This is Missions Baptist Church. This is God’s house and you are more than welcome to come inside any time you want.”
Due to my home life and lack of worldly knowledge due to my age I ask her the big question… “Who is God?”
I really don’t know how long I sat there and talked with her about everything I had been through that I could remember in my 7 years on earth, but it was getting dark when I finally left.
That day, sitting on the steps of Missions Baptist Church, changed my life. That old woman changed my life. Her name was Ms. Peggy and I kept seeing Ms. Peggy for many years. She passed away when I was 15 and to this day, I still remember many of the lessons that she taught me every week.
Going to church here now is like coming home. The people there are my family. They understand why I left. They understand why I came back. I am me, completely, when I am surrounded by them. They help keep me close to God. And that is something I need.
“Zant, it’s good to see you again. Have I mentioned how happy that you are back?” Ms. Martha asked me. She is a sweet older lady. She is probably around my parents age. She makes me think of my mother. Maybe my mother would have been like her. Who knows, though. With my dad, my mom probably wouldn’t have had a choice.
“Thanks, Ms. Martha. It’s good to be back. How are you?”
“I’m doing great dear boy. I’m keeping busy at the school and helping the children. It can’t get any better for me.”
I smile at her, “That’s great. I know those kids benefit from your love and attention.”
“How are things coming with the house?” she asks.
“They are good. All the paperwork has been finalized. I’m a homeowner.” I smile at her. They have been praying for me to get this house since I mentioned it to them.
“That’s so good to hear baby boy. That’s so good,” she says.
Then, the preacher calls our attention so I take my seat.
I leave church and head to the local diner for supper. Bachelorhood means I don’t cook. I really don’t care to cook. Living in the South has its advantages. There are diners all around that make homegrown food. Most of the cooks are grandparents or they learned to cook from their grandparents. Nothing is better.
Meatloaf and mashed potatoes are the special tonight and it sounds perfect.
After eating, I start to head home. I’ve got to finish packing up my apartment. I move out this weekend. The new house is ready and as much as I’m not looking forward to moving, I’m ready to be in my new house.
While driving toward my apartment, something tells me to check on Micah.
It’s something I have done before. But not enough that she notices or to be considered a full-blown stalker.
I get out of my car and make my way to Micah’s door. I just need to be close to the door. Something deep inside is telling me she needs me.
Once I get to the door, I put my hand on it. That’s when I hear her screaming. I’d know that scream anywhere.
“MICAH!!! Micah, open the door! Let me in! Wake up, Micaaaah!” I scream for her as I beat on the door. My heart is in my throat. What is happening in there?
I step back and try to think. She’s still screaming. Her door is a simple wood door with a simple exterior door lock. I’ve picked a few locks in my time. I’ve always kept a tool on my keychain that picks locks. It does other things also, but it helps with doors. Don’t judge.
I use the tool and get into Micah’s apartment pretty quickly. Her voice is breaking from the screaming. I follow it down the hall to a room in the back. I open the door and see her in this huge bed.
Wait, why does she have a king size bed?
Who does she have sleep with her in that bed?
Snap out of it Zant! Go to her. She has the sheets all twisted around her. I can tell that she is covered in sweat.
“NO! Don’t touch me. Help me, Zant!”
I stop short of her bed. She just said my name. She’s calling for me in her nightmare. I climb onto the bed and grab her to get her to quit swinging and kicking.
“Micah, wake up.” I shake her a little to pull her out of it.
“Micah, wake up. Come on, Micah. I’m right here.”
“Zant, help me. Make him stop! ZAAAANT!!” She screams my name.
My heart breaks.
“Micah, wake up. I’m right here. Come on. Wake up. Come back to me. Come on. Micah. Mi. Wake up.” The whole time I’m talking to her, I’m shaking her a little. I pull her close to me and I start rubbing her back. I have her arms between us so she can’t punch me or something.
My back-rubbing technique must be doing the trick. She starts to calm down.
“Micah, come on. Wake up. Open your eyes baby. Wake up.” My voice is a little calmer since she has quit screaming so loud. Now she’s crying and I think she’s still asleep. I have her head cradled to my chest.
“Micah? Micah? Come on. Wake up. Are you awake? I’m right here. It’s me. It’s Zant.”
“Zant?” She whispers.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
She immediately calms down. She unclenches her fist and grabs my shirt instead. She’s still crying a little. I just hold her.
“Micah. Micah. Micah.” I can’t help but say her name. Part of it is to let her know that I’m really here. The other part is to hear myself say it. I haven’t said it in a while. It feels strange and oddly so right rolling off of my tongue.
She sniffles and wipes her face on my shirt. It’s not the first time. “Why are you here? How did you get in here? What happened?” She asks me these questions, but makes no move to pull away.
“I had a feeling to come by here when I left the diner. It must have been God. When I got to the door, I heard you scream. I picked the lock and rushed in here.” I tell her the truth. There is no point in lying to her. I don’t lie to her anyway. Whatever she asks, she will get the truth from me. That is how we have always been.
“You picked my lock?” She asks me. Her tone isn’t a surprised one. I’m not even sure why she is asking that question.
“You think I wouldn’t? I heard you screaming. I was yelling for you outside. Obviously, you didn’t wake up. I did what I had to do to get to you.” I answer her. She really shouldn’t be surprised.
I go a little further with her, to test the waters. “Once I got inside your room, I heard you screaming my name.”
“Yeah, that happens sometimes.” Her voice is a whisper like she doesn’t want to talk about it.
I will not push her. That isn’t what she needs. She needs comfort. Not me trying to find out how she feels about me or why she screams for me when she’s having a nightmare. Even though I may know the reason to that last statement.
“Ok. Let’s get you in the shower. You are soaking wet from sweat.” I say this to her and slowly pull away from her. I grab her shoulders and look into her face as she slowly pulls it away from my chest. Her eyes are swollen and red. It breaks my heart. She sniffles and wipes at her face to get the rest of the tears off. The ones that came after she wiped her entire face on my shirt.
“Yeah. I need a shower. Are you staying? Do you want to make coffee or something while I clean up?” Apparently, she wants me to stay.
“You don’t have to.” She looks down like she is upset with herself for blurting out the questions.
I rub her shoulders and tell her, “I will stay Micah. Get a shower. I will put on coffee and we will talk. Or not. Whatever you want to do.”
I climb off the bed and make my way to the kitchen while she makes her way to the bathroom.