Chapter 8 pt 3

"I don't know why man, but I was shaking like crazy up there..." Michael walked out of the auditorium and into the food court with Pali and Sean.

"Yeah, that's how it is. It's your testimony, dude..." Pali gestured.

"I need to live it. That's my testimony... Jesus help me live it..." Michael shook his head in emotional turmoil. He wanted so bad to please God. He didn't want to mess up.

As he scanned the courtyard, his eyes brightened when he spotted Shanelle, Mary, and Layla by the face painting station. What surprised him even more was seeing Shanelle sitting in the painter's chair!

Michael moved out of view and watched. Pali and Sean glanced at each other.

The woman painted Shanelle's still face. Her posture displayed a level of poise that marveled him. She seemed so calm... From the outside looking in, had he not been present, he wouldn't have been able to guess the chaos that had broken loose earlier that afternoon.

The woman drew flowers and electric blue butterflies starting from Shanelle's forehead, moving down the right side of her face, and ending at her chin. Layla continued to chat non-stop. Shanelle said something too softly for him to hear, evoking laughter from them all.

Watching her smile and laugh stirred something deep within him, filling him with a longing that touched beyond the surface. Shanelle had finally discovered a place where she belonged; a place she could call home. While he understood this, he hoped that she would too.

In his trance, Michael didn't notice that the conversation Pali and Sean had been involved in, stopped on account of his interest.

"Mike... Mike?" Sean prodded him.

"Yeah?" Michael turned, attentive.

"Who is Shanelle to you?" A mischievous light twinkled in Sean's eyes.

"She's a friend," Michael responded simply.

"A friend ? Yeah, and we were born yesterday. Every time you get within a close proximity of her, she's all you're focused on."

"Nah, it's not like that. She's young... And I'm older than her young. " Michael pushed Pali, running a hand over his head.

"Right... So what is it?" Sean asked, placing his hands on both of Michael's shoulders. "Is she Delilah in disguise?"

Pali smirked. "Is she the Jezebel of your undoing? The one who cut your braids?"

Punching them both in the side, Michael winced as he flexed his knuckles. They were still very soar. "No, no, she's not like that. Don't call her that."

Seeing Michael's cool yet serious manner, Pali and Sean relaxed.

"Alright my guy... I'm sorry. Those aren't good names to throw around."

"It's okay man. Shanelle.... Shanelle was there when I got shot."

Immediately sobered, both of the young men stared at Michael in disbelief.

"She was there. She didn't get hurt, but... She could have. Things could have been different, but they weren't... And I'm glad. I gotta.. a need, or a drive to protect her for some reason... With my life. I don't know how to explain it." Michael shook his head, feeling unsuccessful in articulating. Every time he encountered her, there seemed to be a need, and his presence somehow provided solution... at least it felt that way.

Exchanging another look with Sean, Pali grinned. "Yeaaahhh... I got you. I think the nickname we were looking for was Ruth!" He jerked away before Michael could hit him again.

"Nah man, that's that Proverbs 31 love there!" Sean yelled, running across the main courtyard.

Michael sucked his teeth, lowered his head, and closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply, as if drawing in clarity, and exhaled, receiving resolve. Upon opening his eyes, he saw Shanelle looking back at him from across the room. Her face radiated so, that Michael felt a tightness in his chest. She gave him a gentle smile, nodding slightly in respectful acknowledgment. He felt utterly hopeless!

---

John came trudging in on heavy feet, clearly exhausted from the business of the night. The youth and co pastor were updating him, handing over some folders and finally parting ways.

Michael's mother, Julia Matthews appeared from behind one of the closing restaurant stations. Wiping her hands on a dirty apron, she came to Michael and picked small lint off of his face. It didn't matter where she was, she gravitated towards need. He knew she was probably volunteering to help where the staff was short.

"You were here the whole time?" Michael asked, surprised.

Nodding, she smiled. "Don't worry, I heard your testimony son. It was beautiful. The presence of God was all over it baby."

Squirming, Michael quickly changed the subject. He felt strange when people told him he did a good job, or complimented him. Especially when it felt like he didn't do anything...

"Where's dad? He came too?"

She nodded, peeling off the apron, folding it. "Yes, but he had to go back to the store to close up. Carlos and Shara'e are the only ones there; you know they don't know the run down yet."

Nodding, he paused in thought. Remembering the pressing matter at hand, Michael turned to her.

"Ma... I let Shanelle come over about an hour before John picked us up."

His mother knitted her eyebrows. "Shanelle?"

"Yeah. I caught Some student from the school roughing her up, so I let her come. You mind if we give her a ride home?"

"That's fine, but I'll need you to drop me to the shop if that's the case. Your dad and I have to pick up some things from the market before they close, and he has the truck."

"Yes ma'am."

Julia rubbed Michael's back before turning to get her purse. "Mike, your dad is so proud of you. You'll hear him say it when you see him I bet. Y'all meet me at the car in five."

Michael nodded and gestured to Shanelle to catch her attention. He gently pulled her by the arm, steering her away from the talkative Layla, and called out over his shoulder, "Sorry! The mother is leaving. See you all tomorrow!"

Mary caught and hugged Shanelle and the two exchanged numbers, Shanelle promising her presence in the near future. Layla embraced them both before they finally left.

Walking to the car, she and Michael shared a comfortable silence. The space between them had been filled with so much in the matter of one day.

To Michael's surprise, his mother greeted Shanelle warmly, hugging her and letting her know that she missed her. Though she seemed uneasy, Shanelle talked here and there, filling the car with small conversation on the way to the store. She seemed jittery... Nervous. But in an excited way. She seemed alive.

His mother asked her little questions, gentle tone masking what Michael knew to decipher as concern. She knew of Shanelle's history with the store and stealing, and though she never held it against her, she was wary nonetheless. Michael hoped she could learn to appreciate who Shanelle was becoming and not hold on to who she was.

When Julia got out of the car, she glanced at her son briefly, eyes searing. What was this look? What did it mean?

Taking the keys out, she handed him the spare set for his father's truck.

"Please gas up on your way home Mike. Its almost on E, and your daddy refused to get it yesterday. Drive safe baby." She reached up to kiss his face, eyes still speaking what couldn't be heard.

"Yes ma'am." Michael hugged her, motioning to Shanelle as they switched vehicles. "C'mon, we'll take my dad's."

Pulling off, Michael's heart beat pounded in his ears. What did that look mean?

"You good?" Shanelle asked, responding to his expression. He nodded, glancing at her briefly. Her confusion amused him.

"Yeah, I'm straight."

She turned to look out of the window. They neared her neighborhood.

Anxiety twisted and untwisted in Michael's stomach, writhing like plastic in a flame. He wasn't ready for the night to be over... Not just yet. The turn to Shanelle's block was approaching. A decision needed to be made quickly. He chose to risk her trust. He continued straight.

Glancing at him sharply, Shanelle shifted in her seat. Michael could slice steak with the tension in the atmosphere.

"You forgot where I stay now?" She asked, trying to hide the concern in her voice, though failing miserably; she was scared. Michael didn't want her uncomfortable. He wanted her to trust him.

"Can you ride with me somewhere? I won't kidnap you, I promise. You'll be home in the next 30 minutes."

Shanelle nodded without meeting his eyes. Her uneasiness rubbed like sandpaper. He continued to drive.

Not straying far, Michael arrived at Gabe's field, a founder's park in the neighborhood. Statues and plaques were scattered throughout its approximately 3-acre landscape. At the property's edge, a small art museum was nestled, with manicured bushes and trees lining its sides. The sole gate protected the land from the river, which roared just below a western drop-off point. Two large, ancient oaks shaded the mossy grass at the park's entrance, marked by two stone pillars separating the road from the parking lot.

Although the sun had set, its rays lingered, caught in the clouds just above the horizon, painting the sky with hues of peach and maroon.

Parking in the vacant lot, Michael stepped outside of the car and opened the door for Shanelle. Tight lipped and cautious, she got out and stared up at him in question.

Letting down the back of the truck, he jumped on and motioned for her to get up.

"Mike, I don't know what this is... Why you ain't take me home? What we doin' in the back of your daddy truck?"

Instantly, grief moistened Michael's eyes. Squatting at the edge, he reached out to where she stood in front of him.

"Shanelle, I wont hurt you... I hate that it looks wrong, and I hate it even more that you don't trust me. But I need you to... You've got to trust somebody, and I need... I need it to be me. Trust me."

Seeing his passion, Shanelle accepted his hand. Clasping both firmly around her one, he helped her up.

---

Plopping down, he gestured to the space across from him: a crate padded with his mother's patio cushions. She sat down. He could see her pulse jumping miles per second.

Gazing out into the evening sky casually, Michael let out a deep breath.

"Michael, why we here?"

"Ain't no middle ground with you is there...?" He laughed.

She didn't flinch.

Nodding with a smile, Michael cleared his throat. "Talk to me."

Knitting her brows, she glared. "What you mean?"

"Talk to me. Tell me about tonight, about today... Just talk to me."

Shaking her head, Shanelle sucked her teeth. "Mike, you drove past the house... Brought me out here to the park where ain't nobody even breathing... Just to talk?"

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"We don't even... you just now getting back in town... Tonight was different, it was weird, it was scary... I was on the way to your house this morning because I thought I could talk to you about Jas. I didn't know that boy was following me, and ... I don't know. Then the church? I don't know why it feels like it does, or why you want to be close to me now, but I don't think I like it Mike. I want to go home."

"Okay, we can go. I'll take you home Nelle. Before I do, can you answer something for me?"

"What?"

"Who was the man our pastor said she saw tonight? Was it your dad? And what about Jas?"

The silence that followed hang like lead. After a few moments, Michael wasn't sure anymore if he'd spoken loud enough. Second guessing the question, he was about to re-phrase it when she interrupted his thoughts.

"No."

"No?"

"No. He's not my dad."

"Who... Who was he?" Michael asked perceptively, treading on shaky ground. His antennas went up immediately as scenarios flew through his mind. He grew quietly alarmed.

"Please..." She searched his eyes, her own brown and full of concern. "Please keep this here... I don't even know why I'm telling you but I'm gonna ..."

Nodding in agreement, he waited, allowing her space for pauses.

"The man is James... My Mama's boyfriend. Months ago, I found out why I couldn't go home; Jasmine knew the real reason and wouldn't tell me. So I went to the house on my own to find out myself. When I got there...people... People was laying everywhere, drunk, high... The house-" her voice cracked, trailing off. She continued. "The house was so beat up with holes in the walls. All my memories... At least what was left of the good, was gone. I had 10 years... 10 good years."

Shanelle looked away, not wanting to show her tears. "I, I, I kept on in the house... When I got to my old room, James found me in there. " She stared up into the darkening sky, blinking back a river.

"He um... I don't know why I'm telling you this!"

Reaching out, Michael clasped her hands, seeing how bad they trembled.

"Speak... That's my assignment with you. Just talk. I don't want anything else." Even as he said it, he wondered if the words were entirely true. It didn't matter... They had to be right now. He had to be okay if nothing moved past him being a listener... Ever. What Shanelle needed was beyond anything he could offer.

Voice dwindling below a whisper, Shanelle spoke. "He choked me... slammed me against the wall then forced me to...." She grimaced, stopping, taking a ragged breath.

Michael's leg tapped uncontrollably, his face enflamed and in utter disbelief. It all made sense now, why it was disaster seemed to follow her. He wanted to say so much, but he remained quiet.