Moments of Clarity (9 page)

“I got that, too.” She openly grinned at the sexual undercurrents of Sexton's banter. Then her attention was drawn to a couple of high school girls looking at Sexton and giggling. “I think that you have a mini fan club over there.”

One of the teenage girls tore a piece of notebook paper out of a tablet and headed over in their direction. The girl was inordinately pretty in her school uniform and she approached their table with pen and paper in hand. “May I have your autograph?” she spoke softly.

Sasha heard the nervous tremor as the girl shifted from one foot to the other.

“Of course you can. It's always nice to meet a fan. Is this for you or maybe your brother?”

“It's for me. Would you please write ‘To Jasmine from Tyrese on her birthday?' That way everyone will know for sure that I met you.”

Sasha had been in the process of taking a sip of her drink and began to sputter when she realized who the girl thought Sexton was.

She saw Sexton's hand grow still and then he quickly recovered and said, “Sure, young lady. Is it okay if I just sign it T. Gibson instead of the whole name?”

“That would be great,” she shyly responded.

Sasha watched Sexton as he wrote on the sheet of notebook paper and handed it to her with a smile. “There you go, young lady. Enjoy your birthday.”

“Thank you so much,” she said excitedly. “This is the best birthday ever!” She sped back over to her friends.

Once she left, Sasha couldn't contain herself any longer. She laughed until tears formed in her eyes, and Sexton watched her with a wry expression. Once she stopped laughing she gulped out, “Why didn't you tell her who you really are?”

“And ruin her birthday?” Sexton said, raising one eyebrow. “I didn't want to disappoint her.”

”But you're a star, too,” Sasha replied.

“Not to her,” he said mildly sarcastic. “I should be offended, but I'm not. She's young. One day she'll recognize me. Just you wait and see.” He finished his statement with a confidence that made Sasha feel even more attracted to him.

Just then their waitress arrived with their food. “Good Lord!” Sasha exclaimed when she saw what Sexton's usual was. The waitress placed a plate of stewed turkey wings on homemade cornbread dressing, green beans, dirty rice, and a whole sweet potato pie. “It's a good thing you run up and down the court for a living. Otherwise you would have a weight problem.”

“I don't think you did too badly yourself,” he teased, “I'm glad that you have a healthy appetite because I hate to take a woman out to eat who just picks at her food.”

“You never have to worry about that with me. I don't eat all of the time, but when I do, I can really get down.”

“Sasha, I like you. I think that you're real.”

Sasha blushed and smiled at him, “Thank God for Mr. Ramirez.”

“Who's Mr. Ramirez?” He gave her a quizzical look. Sexton had a mouthful of turkey wing and some of the juice dribbled.

Smiling, Sasha picked up her napkin and dabbed at his mouth. “He's a patient of mine, and he's always quizzing me about my love life.”

“Really? I'm a little surprised that you would get so close to a patient.”

“I usually don't. But no one ever visits Mr. Ramirez. Because he doesn't have any family, I began to spend time with him.”

“What's wrong with him?”

“Brain cancer, and it's terminal. I don't know how much longer he has.” Obvious sadness was etched in her voice. “Some days he's in so much excruciating pain that all the pain reliever that we can legally give him doesn't help, and other days he's pain free. That's when we play cards. He told me months ago to break up with Abdul and then he advised me to call you. I'm happy that I did,” she ended quietly.

Sexton asked abruptly, “Why did you finally break up with him?”

“I caught him doing his secretary,” Sasha responded without feeling. That part of her life seemed light years ago, and she was glad.

“That's a classic.” Sexton shrugged his shoulders as if to say that he wasn't surprised.

“As his secretary, she's not even getting paid minimum wage and she was doing him on the side.”

“Well, then she got taken twice, didn't she?” Sexton replied, eyes twinkling.

Sasha started to chuckle and Sexton said, “See, you can find humor in every situation if you try.”

As they walked out of the restaurant, Sasha could feel Sexton's eyes on her bottom. Looking back at him she said teasingly, “You know, you do kind of look like Tyrese.”

Sexton's answer was to swat her butt as she slid into the seat of the car.

* * *

The next morning, she awoke with her head on top of Sexton's chest. He had one arm behind his head and the other around her waist. Sasha took her forefinger and began to trace the scar that stood out prominently on Sexton's stomach.

At her touch, Sexton opened his eyes, stared at her and then closed them again. “I see you noticed my battle scar,” he murmured, his voice groggy from sleep.

“Is that what you call it?” Sasha asked softly.

Sexton hesitated and then replied softly, “I really think of it as the beginning of my life.”

“What do you mean?” she said, looking up at him, willing him to reopen his eyes.

“I was knifed by my brother Sammy when I was in foster care.” Sexton's voice sounded matter of fact, as if this had been an everyday occurrence for him.

“You've got to be kidding! You said that you had wonderful foster parents.”

“No,” he denied. “I said that I had a wonderful experience with my adoptive parents. Before that I was in foster care. It was an experience, but not wonderful.”

Sasha was quiet for a minute, not wanting to be too nosy, but she found herself wanting to know everything that had happened to Sexton Johnson before he'd breezed into her life. She pressed him to explain by lightly by nudging his body with hers.

“I was in foster care until I was in the fourth grade. There were three of us boys. It wasn't until I started school that I even realized that they really weren't my blood brothers. I found out then because we were all in the same grade and the same class. When we were being taught to sign our names, my pre-K teacher pointed out the differences.”

“So your name was Johnson and the other kids' names were something else?” Sasha asked.

“No, everyone's last name was Davenport because that was our foster parents' last name and no one ever questioned it. My first name was Sexton. My adopted parents' name, I mean my mom and dad, their last name was Johnson. After they adopted me they changed my name to theirs and my new life began.” Anytime Sexton spoke of his mom and dad his voice softened and his expression took on a look of love and respect.

“They sound wonderful. Maybe one day I'll get to meet them.”

“They're both gone. They were in their fifties when they adopted me. Dad went first. He died of lung cancer and then Mom died six months later. I think that she just didn't want to go on after that. They had been together since junior high school and she was at a loss as to how to spend her time without him or any children to look after.”

“How did they end up adopting you?”

“My brother told them about me.”

“You have a brother?”

“Yes, I have a brother. Teddy was their natural son and a lot older than me. He was a coach at the Boys and Girls Club and I used to go down there to play basketball to escape my home life. He looked after me, and when he found out that I had been stabbed by one of my foster care brothers in an argument over five dollars he asked his parents to adopt me. He wanted me out of that situation. They already knew me because I was also their neighborhood paper boy.”

“Do you know anything about your real parents?” Sasha asked gently.

“No.”

“Aren't you curious to know who they are or why they gave you up?”

“I may not know who they are, but I do know why they gave me up. Obviously they didn't want me.”

“That's not always the case. At the hospital there have been young single mothers who give up their children because they think that's the best thing for them because they can't provide a loving home.”

“That may be the case for some, but I was in foster care for years and to my knowledge, no one ever came to look for me. I'm not really interested in knowing anything else. Mom and Dad made me feel so loved and secure that I kind of feel like it would be a slap in the face now that they have passed for me to start looking for some mythical parents. When they were alive they offered to try to get some information through the foster care system, but I declined. Lillie and Henry Johnson had already taught me that family is made up of experiences and memories, not necessarily blood.”

“So I gather that you had a really hard time during your formative years?”

He looked at her. “You certainly are loquacious when you wake up. My situation didn't seem so bad while I was living it. Life is like that. You accept that what you have is as good as it gets, and then something else comes along that is better and only then do you realize how bad things really are.”

“I hate that you had to go through that terrible time. But you don't seem at all bitter.”

“I wasn't always the person that you now see.” He hesitated for a minute but obviously felt compelled to finish his thought. “For a while I was a little hellion, but my parents continued to love and pray for me and through their guidance I was able to put my demons behind me.”

Gratitude was evident in his tone, and Sasha looked at Sexton admiringly.

Seeing this he said abruptly, “I was arrested.”

“For what?” Sasha lightly rubbed his chest in an effort to ease the look on his face. Then gently, “I think every child has stolen a pack of gum or a candy bar before.”

“It was more serious than that. I helped my foster brothers boost some stereo equipment from my neighbor's house.”

She tried to mollify him. “I'm not surprised by that. Look at the environment that you were being raised in.”

“That's not what happened.” Sexton began to talk as if he were experiencing a catharsis that was long overdue. “I had already been adopted and was doing pretty well. My grades had gone up and Mom and Dad had enrolled me in an after school basketball program. It was a mentoring program, and some of the older high school kids would come and give us tips on how to be better athletes.

“One day Sammy talked me into skipping practice and being the lookout for him and Kendall as they ransacked a neighbor's house. Sammy had seen them bringing in boxes of equipment the day before. They wanted me to stand outside and warn them if anyone was coming. I agreed, even though I knew it was wrong. Ever since being adopted I had gone out of my way to prove to them that I didn't think that I was better than them, and that I was still one of the boys.”

“So you got caught,” Sasha guessed.

“Of course we did. The owner was in the bedroom asleep and she woke, grabbed her cordless phone, and hid in fear for her life. From the closet she called the cops and they caught us red-handed. We tried to drop the equipment and run, but when we rounded the corner there were two other cops waiting for us. They took us all downtown.

“In the back of the cop car, Kendall and I started to cry, and I can remember Sammy telling us not to let them see us cry.”

Sexton's voice trailed off and Sasha could tell he was momentarily lost in memories.

“I don't think in all the years we were together I ever saw him cry.” His brow was furrowed and Sasha reached up and smoothed it out with her finger.

“Then what happened?” she asked gently.

“They took us to the detention center. I was still in middle school and I could have been released that night in my parents' care but they left me there.”

“They left you?” Sasha's eyes opened wide and she leaned up on one elbow and stared at Sexton.

“Yep,” he said, “they left me there for three whole nights. When they finally came to get me, I knew the minute I saw my mother's face that if it had been her decision I wouldn't have spent one night locked up, but Mom and Dad always showed a united front when it came to me. Mom stood there looking at the raggedy cot, the bare gray walls, with fear written all over her face. Dad looked more stoic. He sat down at the end of the cot and stared me straight in the eyes and said, ‘Can you imagine how your mother and I felt when the police called?”

“I didn't answer him. I heard Sammy's words over and over again telling me not to let anyone see me cry.

“When I didn't say anything, for the first time since I had been with them Dad spoke harshly to me. ‘I told them that it was a mistake,' he said. ‘My son wouldn't do such a thing.'

“After all this time, I can remember that even though I knew that I was in a lot of trouble, I felt happiness that he had called me his son without hesitation. And then I felt a sickening feeling in my gut because I had let them down. I looked at Mom's teary eyes and right then and there I decided that I would never be the cause of her tears again.

Dad asked me whether I thought I would have been able to look our neighbors in the face if I'd gotten away with the robbery. Then he said, ‘I won't have my son shaming me, so I let you stew in here for a couple of nights. If you choose to be a criminal you need to get used to being in a dingy dump like this.'

“That was when I hung my head and began to cry. Dad said that he was going to take the money that I had been saving from my paper route to buy a bicycle and give the money to the people we had stolen the stereo equipment from. It had been damaged when we dropped it while we were trying to flee from the police.”

“What happened to Kendall and Sammy?”

“Kendall stayed for about a month in juvenile and then they let him out for time served.”