Vengeance(27)

“Donald’s paid for what he did to you,” Grandma said. “He’s dead and gone. I’ve done the best that I can by you. I had no idea your uncle was capable of such a thing.”

“You’re a damn liar!” Mother moved toward Grandma, who inched back. Fear was apparent on her face, and I could see her tightening her grip on the paring knife in her right hand, just in case. “You’re a liar! You knew he was sick. All of you knew he was a sick pedophile and that I wasn’t the first; probably not the last. You wouldn’t have even pressed charges if I had come to you first. You didn’t press charges when he did the same thing to you when you were younger.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Grandma said. “Donald never did anything to me.”

“Liar! He told me all about it. How he used to make you suck his filthy dick and lie there in your bed while he fucked you into oblivion.”

Grandma stared down at me. “The baby’s in the room. Stop talking nonsense.”

“Caprice is not a damn baby. She better learn quick what kind of world we live in. A world where men use us as interchangeable pieces of meat and where any pussy is for their taking, whether the woman wants to give it willingly or not. I’m not sugarcoating shit for her.”

“Denise, stop it. That’s enough.”

“No, it’s not enough.” She glared at Grandma. “Look at you. You laid down with some man and made me and he left you before I was born. I wouldn’t be surprised if Uncle Donald is my daddy, too.”

“That’s blasphemy! Shut the hell up, Denise!”

“You shut the hell up, Momma!” Mother pointed at me. “If it weren’t for you, none of this would’ve happened. If you had put a stop to him, this little bitch on the floor would’ve never been born. I asked you, begged you, to let me have an abortion. You cursed me for life. For life.”

“I’m not sure what kind of drugs you’re taking, but I will not have you talk to me like this.” Grandma raised the paring knife. “Not now. Not ever.”

Mother laughed. “Oh, so what are you planning to do with that? Kill me? Slice me up?”

“Denise, I’m your mother and I love you, but I will not sit by and watch you descend into hell and take Caprice with you. If I have to take you out of this world, I will.”

Everything became blurry after that for a moment. I could see Grandma and Mother struggling and hitting each other. I tried to blank it all out and pretend like it was not happening.

A minute seemed like a hundred and I realized that Grandma was passed out on the floor, presumably knocked unconscious by her own daughter. I could see her chest rising and falling, so I was positive she was still breathing. I remember being appreciative for that: her chest rising.

Mother turned to me with the paring knife in her hand and, even at seven years old, I understood that I was in imminent danger. I tried to get up and run from the kitchen, but I was not fast enough. Mother grabbed me from behind and I felt the blade of the knife slicing down my left cheek in a jagged line. She let me go and I toppled to the floor, holding my face. I was speechless, and even if I could have found words, I would have been too afraid to actually speak them.

“Now, no man will ever want you,” Mother said. “The curse in the Tatum family ends with you.”





Chapter Six


Turns out that my grandmother was fine. Mother didn’t use the knife on her, only me, the demon. She was beaten-up pretty bad, though. We were both hospitalized for about a week.”

Marcella gulped down some saliva. “I’m sorry that your mother did that to you. Where are your mother and grandmother now?”

“Grandma died when I was young, right before my twenty-first birthday. I didn’t get a chance to say good-bye to her. I was already in New York, but I wrote her letters; no return address.” I paused and took a deep breath. “Mother’s in an institution not that far from here. Based on your profession, one that I’m sure you’re familiar with.”

“I don’t really do a lot of institutional work any longer.”

I drank some water to regain some composure after going back to a place that I never thought I would revisit again.

“Have you seen her?” Marcella asked.

“No. Like I said, I haven’t been back here in decades. Even after she first got locked up, I never wanted to see her. Regardless, Grandma wouldn’t have allowed it. Not after what happened. I heard that the doctors determined that the cancer finally took her, but it was really the emotional pain created by being raped by her own brother, who raped her daughter in return, and fathered her granddaughter. I’ve often wondered if Mother was right and Uncle Donald is really her father. It would make a lot of sense.”