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I wasn’t even mad at Shae. Usually, whenever I asked God for something, he tends to give it to me. I’d been asking God to allow Shae to bless me with a baby one of these days, so I knew that blessing was right around the corner.
Jashae Johnson
I went to the graveyard this afternoon to visit my baby. I had a long, two-hour talk with him. I want to say that I felt just about every emotion out there that I could feel. I went from feeling sad to happy, angry, depressed, miserable, happy, and sad again, all in one sitting. Coming to visit my boy was nothing new for me. The thing is, it didn’t get better.
I believed in God, and I believed that Vonte’s body was the only thing left in that casket and that his spirit had gone to heaven. But, as his mother, I couldn’t help but still wonder if he was okay, you know? Was he scared? When Vonte was alive, especially as a little boy, it had always been my job to worry about him. I remember when I dropped him off at daycare for the first time. The whole day at work, I wondered if my baby was okay. I wondered if he was being treated fairly. I wondered if the other kids were being nice to him.
To ease those feelings, I remember driving to the daycare on my lunch break and checking on him through the window. My baby was just fine. He was playing with the other kids and nowhere near stressing like I was. I hoped that was the case now. I could only hope that he was in Heaven having a good time and getting the chance to be around my mother, who I never got the chance to meet. I hoped he was at peace because I still wasn’t at peace.
After leaving the graveyard, I ended up getting back in the car with Manny, who drove me around the corner to the church. I hated the idea of having security, but I knew that Miami wasn’t going to change his mind, so I guess I had to accept it. He claimed that this was only temporary, and I hoped so because I didn’t too much care for another man, who wasn’t my man, having to drive me around.
I went to the church because I needed to go up front to the altar, get down on my hands and knees, and pray. I could feel the dark cloud that was over me, so I wanted to ask God to protect me and my loved ones. Trip hadn’t called since our Vegas trip, which was a week ago, and I didn’t know how to feel about that. I didn’t know what shots he was calling in that cell.
I feared for Miami daily. I prayed for him more than I prayed for myself. Every day when I woke up, it’s like I was begging God, with tears in my eyes, to watch out for my man. I didn’t want to lose him. Miami wasn’t treating this issue as serious as I was. Although Dino was locked up, I knew that there were other people that Trip could call to do his dirty work.
By the time I finished praying, my face was drenched from the tears that I’d cried. I used the back of my hands to wipe my face, and I stood up. When I did that, I spotted a young lady standing in the aisle, holding a small trash can. There were white, latex gloves on her hands, and when she saw me, she gave me a small smile. Instantly, I just assumed that she had to have been a friend of Vonte’s or somehow knew him because she had the school sweater on that he’d attended.
“I didn’t hear you praying. I actually just came in about a second ago. I don’t want you to think that I was eavesdropping,” she shyly and timidly said.
She was a very pretty girl. Dark skinned, with the prettiest set of white teeth that I’d ever seen. Tall, with a slim build and thick, brown hair that she had hanging down with a headband on.
“It’s fine,” I let her know.
I was about to walk around her, but she cleared her throat to say something next.
“I attended the funeral for Vonte. I sat all the way in the back, though. I took a physics class with Vonte. Man, he was so smart. Most of the other basketball players would just horse around in class and copy from other people because they felt like because they were so good on the court that they didn’t have to take school seriously. Vonte and I weren’t necessarily close, but we were paired together a few times for group work and stuff like that,” she said, and then she took a pause.
I could tell that she was so shy, as she kept switching the small trash can from hand to hand, and at times, looking everywhere but at me. There was about a two-second pause, and then she started right back up.
“Umm, I know you heard it a hundred times or more, but I’m really sorry about what happened to him. I couldn’t say it at the funeral because… you know? I’m sure you wanted your space. This is my father’s church, so I’m here often. Sorry if I’m talking too much. I’ll let you go,” she nervously said.
She was so pretty, yet so timid and scared. It was like she almost wanted to tell me something but was too afraid to do so.
“Thank you, and you’re fine. You’re not talking too much. What’s your name? Maybe Vonte talked about you to me before,” I said.
“Olivia. Olivia Clarke,” she said and extended her hand out for me to shake.
“Okay, Olivia. I’m not sure. Your name could have come up once or twice before. Vonte always came home to me with a million and one stories about different people, so it was kind of hard to keep up with him and his stories,” I said.
She let out a nervous laugh and nodded as if she agreed.
“I’m here at the church just about every day, and my dad always makes me come in the sanctuary to pick up any trash that may be in the pews or on the floor. Usually, when someone is in here praying, I’ll just wait outside until they are done, so they can have their moment. Maybe a month after Vonte passed, I was outside in the foyer sweeping when I heard loud cries coming from inside here. I’m a teenager, so I can be a little nosey sometimes. I wanted to know who was inside here crying like that, so I peeked in. It was Taylor. It was what she cried about that bothered my soul. She wasn’t a good person, so when I found out about her passing almost a month ago, I couldn’t feel bad for her. I felt like she deserved what happened to her,” she voiced.
I could look into her eyes and see the anger that she had for Taylor. Immediately, I started thinking that maybe this little chick was crazy and had a secret crush on Vonte. Maybe I had watched too many Lifetime movies and was reading this all wrong. I would have remembered the name Olivia. Vonte never talked to me about anyone named Olivia. I only told her that I couldn’t remember because I didn’t want to h
urt her feelings.
“When you get older, you’ll learn about forgiveness. That comes with age and wisdom,” I said, and she looked at me like I was crazy.
“What? If she never did what she did, Vonte would still be here today,” she shrieked like she was shocked that I said what I said.
I had no idea what she was talking about, so I looked at her like she was crazy this time.
“What do you mean? My son died because of a severe asthma attack,” I corrected her.
“An asthma attack that could have been avoided. I was at the game that day. I never attend games, but my school was in the championship, so of course, I went. In the middle of the attack, everyone was looking for Vonte’s bag, and it was nowhere to be found. A month after his death, Taylor sat at the altar, down on her hands and knees, begging God to forgive her. She kept saying, ‘I should have never taken the bag. I should have never taken the bag,’” Taylor played her part.
“That car accident happening to her was no coincidence. It was Karma. It was Vonte giving her what was owed. Do you still believe that forgiveness comes with age and wisdom?” she asked me.
