Return to a Place called Home Pt. 02

Thaelor answered the phone on the nightstand. She quickly tried to snatch it from the cradle before it woke Ryan from his migraine induced slumber.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hello? Ma'am? Hi! This is Paulette! I'm sorry to disturb you. I know you guys just got settled in. But, I was able to get ahold of our Mayor. When I told him what you guys needed, he rushed here ASAP. So, if you want your father's birth certificate, it's available. Plus, I have another huge surprise for you!" Paulette said excitedly.

"Ok. We're on our way."

Hanging up, Thaelor leaned over and gently kissed Ryan on the cheek before gently shaking him by the shoulder.

"Hon...I know you're tired but, the certificate is ready for us to pick up. Tell you what, if you get up, we'll get the certificate, come back, catch a nap, then I'll drive us back to the airport. Deal?" Thaelor said in a honey sweet voice.

"Alright." Ryan grunted.

The siblings got up, returned to the SUV, and drove back to the Capital building. Sluggishly, Ryan and Thaelor re-entered the hall. This time, Paulette was at the Receptions desk flanked by a tall, distinguished looking white man talking to her. Before the duo could cross the expanse, the young receptionist exited the desk and bounded up to the siblings. Grabbing Ryan around the waist and hugging him tightly. She did the same thing to Thaelor.

"OH MY GOD!! Welcome Home Cousins! I had no idea I was related to anyone from California, much less people so famous! Paulette squealed.

"It's an honor to help the children of such a great Civil Servant! Who knew one of Wallaceville's own had become so influential. I am so sorry to hear about your tragedy. If he ever gets better, please have him come back home and visit us! We would LOVE to celebrate having him visit our sleepy little town!" Mayor Tom Worrell said, vigorously shaking the sibling's hands.

Ryan and Thaelor were totally at a loss for words. Looking at the Mayor Ryan responded,

"Sure Mr. Mayor. If he comes out of it, I'll pass on the invitation. But Paulette, what exactly are you talking about "Cousins?"

Paulette was so excited she was almost hyperventilating.

"Well, when the Mayor got here, we started looking for your Dad's birth certificate. Once we found it, it had a link to a minor traffic warrant. It said the occupants were your Dad, Mr. Morrison...and a young woman named Jean Bailey! My original Dad had twin sisters! One of them was Jean Marie! We're COUSINS!!"

Ryan and Thaelor's mouths dropped open. They had no idea this was even a possibility, much less a reality. Senator Morrison never mentioned home and neither did Ryan's mother. Ever.

"Come here, Come here." She said, leading them to the desk. Grabbing the manila envelope, she took out 3 sheets of paper.

"See? Here is your Dad's birth certificate (the Mayor signed it himself). But here also is your Mother's certificate. See? Jean Marie Bailey...and HER TWIN!! My Aunt Florence Adele Bailey!! But we also found this..."

The last sheet of paper was a certificate of marriage with a VOID stamp on it. It read; Township of Broke Buck, Groom: Robert James Morrison. Bride: Jean Marie Bailey-Morrison. Reverend Nelson J. Moore.

"This is...amazing." Thaelor replied. Ryan was in a complete state of shock. He wasn't just holding history in his hands. It was HIS story.

"But there's more. You have to meet your Aunt. She wouldn't forgive me if I let you guys go back to California without stopping to see her."

Handing them another sheet of paper, Paulette hugged Ryan and Thaelor finishing with:

"Please tell Aunt Florence, I get off in 3 more hours. I'll be by for a plate, Bye guys."

Returning to the SUV, Thaelor slid behind the wheel and started the vehicle to further their journey. The best Ryan could do was read off the directions. He was in a total state of shock. He even misread the directions a couple of times, almost getting them lost.

The route retraced the drive back out of town. After crossing the bridge, the paper said:

"Stop at the sign and say a little prayer." Sure enough, there was a little homemade sign stating to "say a prayer." Turning the SUV left, Thaelor continued to follow the directions. The road eventually dropped off, denoting that the place they were headed was nestled in a valley. Finally, passing two more farms, the road opened up to expose a tiny hamlet of mostly wooden and brick structures. The streets were a mixture of old asphalt and old, worn cobble stones. The plots of land were sometimes separated by wooden fencing, but for the most part, they were simply small expanses of land filled with olden style home front porches, an old car or two in the yard, and some fields of grass or vegetation. Driving forward, Ryan and Thaelor were looked at with several views of suspicion, but also many waves and smiles of affection.

"Wow." Remarked Thaelor. "It's hard to believe many people still live like this. It's like stepping back in a history book."

"Yeah." Added Ryan. "But there's almost a feeling of...family out here. Look at them sis. We never get this in L.A. Just people walking, talking, and sitting on each other's front porches. Hell, the parents, are dressed down. Mostly t-shirts and old jeans out here, and none of the kids are dirty. Mostly...no one's in any hurry around here."

"Except for those kids over there." Thaelor pointed out. "They're beautiful."

Looking to the left, Ryan spotted 2 little, dark skinned children running and playing in a large mud puddle. Dirt and mud caked all over their tiny little bodies. Not a single care in the world. Their mother's stood close by giggling and laughing watching their children play. Talking back and forth.

Taking a right on Hemingway, Thaelor pulled forward, the sign saying; "Dead End." The street came to a large, old, wooden fence; punctuated by a driveway. Pulling in, the property was divided on both sides. On the right, lush vegetation. Rows of tobacco, stalks of corn, and other crops. On the other, a lawn of differing sizes of neglect or attention. It had been used as a dumping grounds over the years for old appliances, old vehicles, and some that are newer. Beyond the unkempt areas, the grass had recently been cut low and immaculately maintained. This plot held the house. An old structure that showed signs of being updated over the years. The original wooden structure stood out front. Accentuated with a large porch with a railing and sloping covering. A swing swaying gently in the breeze. The rear of the home was newer; but mismatched to the original. A hodge-podge of different stones and bricks assembled along the sides. A huge chimney punctuating the growth.

Parking, the siblings got out of the vehicle and mounted the front porch. Knocking several times, they waited. The door swung open to reveal an exceptionally young girl. Tall, lanky, dark skinned, with a head full of braids, and a mouth full of gum. The only thing bigger on her, was the attitude she permeated.

"Yeah?!" She asked, her gum not standing a chance against the assault of her teeth.

"Uhhhh...Hi!" Began Thaelor. "We're hoping this is the home of a Florence...Bailey?" Is she in" Thaelor asked.

Neck rolling, the young girl's answer was nasty and curt. "Ain't no Florence here." With that, the door slammed shut in their faces.

The siblings were totally perplexed. Looking at each other for a split second in disbelief. The next sound they heard was the deep gruff voice of a man. Whatever the conversation was, ended shortly and abruptly. The faint sound of flesh being hit, followed by muted tears falling rounded out the end of the conversation.

A few seconds later, the door opened again revealing the owner of the male voice. While not very tall, he was thick. Built like a linebacker that used to chase Travis all over the football field. His shoulders were huge, looking more like football pads, than a pair of muscles that attached to a person's neck. His arms bulging threateningly out of his rolled-up sleeves. His milk chocolate skin matched with his dark brown eyes, and shaven head. Looking squarely in Thaelor's eyes, he spoke. Surprisingly calm and nice.

"I'm so sorry about that. Please excuse my step-daughter, she is currently pissed because she can't hang out with her little "boyfriend" after the celebration. I assure you, she has been swiftly dealt with. How can I help you two?" He said.

"Yes." Ryan continued. "We're looking for a Ms. Florence Bailey. See, we're from out of town and were told to see her here by her niece Paulette."

"Oh...y'all met little 'Lette? Hold on. Hey Big Momma! You got some folks here at the door to see you!" He yelled.

"Ok...here I come." Came a voice from deep within the recesses of the dark abode. A few seconds later she appeared. Materializing out of the dim interior, a woman walked up to the door. Rubbing her hands on a kitchen towel, she was short, with dark skin, spotted by areas of whiteness where her melanin faded. Hair of midnight streaked with silver. A bubbly smile and eyes of a light brown. Ryan had to catch himself from shedding a tear. He was almost staring at a mirror image of his mother.

"Robert Morrison...that YOU?!!" She asked.

"No ma'am." Thaelor answered, after Ryan hadn't said a word in a couple seconds. My name is Thaelor and this is my brother Ryan. Robert is our Dad."

"OH MY GOD...RYAN?!! You look just like yo' daddy!" Racing forward, she wrapped her arms around Ryan's thick chest and hugged him intensely. Ryan could no longer hold back the tears. He missed his mother so much, and her she was...almost. Letting him go, Florence asked; "It's so good to finally meet you. Where my big head, absentee sister? Is she with you too?"

Ryan's teary eyes, dropped. "No. Unfortunately, she died 15 years ago. Cancer. It came on quick. Before we could really do anything to stop it, she was gone."

Florence looked at her nephew. It was written all over his face that even after so much time, the pain for him was still fresh. It may have been pushed to the side, but the cars still remained. She encircled his waist, cupping his head down to her shoulder. For now, her pain had to wait, his was immediate.

"I know. I know. Let me have it. You don't have to carry it alone anymore."

They started gradually. Little by little, the heaves came. The release of the tears and therefore the hurt began to flow. Thaelor looked on helplessly. She had never known Ryan to harbor such feelings. Never known the man she loved hurt so much. He never spoke of it, never let her in to that part of his soul. Was she just passing fancy? A thing to do? Or did he love her as he claimed? These doubts shrank as Florence opened her arms and bid her join the circle. Lending another pillar of strength to a man that had lost all of his. The embrace was heartwarming and spiritual. Placing her uncertainties to the side, she could feel her brothers soul refilling. Rejuvenating. Reviving. When Ryan lifted his head again, he looked better.

"Come on in baby." Aunt Florence said, a smile on her face. The siblings followed their new family member inside the home. The inside was a total contrast to the outside. While the outside looked to be in total chaos, the inside was pristine and orderly. The living room was done up in fine pastels and overrun with photos.

"Ma'am, you sounded like you knew of Ryan when I mentioned him. How is that?"

Moving to a wall, she pointed to several pictures hung there. The first were a couple pictures of Jean Marie. A prominent baby bump swelling her body. The pictures under it took Thaelor and Ryan by complete surprise. Pictures of Monica in the third grade, Travis in his Pee Wee football uniform, and finally a baby picture of Ryan hugging a large plush toy.

"She was my sister after all. Jean sent me pictures of her children soon after you were born, and please...call me Flo. I'm sorry...I have no idea who you are. You say you're Ryan's sister?"

"Yes." Thaelor added. "Robert is my father, but I have a different mother. She was white; and I didn't know about or join Ryan until after his mom died."

"So...your mom was white. You don't say." Flo added half handedly.

Flo led the siblings further into the house, in the kitchen, the older girl they met is sitting with two more younger children, stripping a bushel of greens and placing them into a pot for cooking, while they watch a small television playing a children's cartoon.

"So, did your mother tell you anything about me?" Flo asked.

"Unfortunately, no." Ryan added. Mom never spoke about her life before she was married to Dad. All I ever knew was them. She never spoke of you, this town, her family, nothing. Then again, neither did Dad. They just said they met and fell in love, got married, and had us."

"Good Lord...then you know absolutely nothing." Reaching into a cupboard, Flo grabbed a plate, piled it high with food, and covered it with foil. Turning to the short thick man, she said; "Calvin, you need to get out of here if you're going to get to the mine on time hon. I'll trade you your dinner, if you hand me that clear jar on the top shelf, and two glasses." The man named Calvin smiled, did as he was bid and took the plate of food. Grabbing his white hardhat from the table, he kissed the three children and admonished the older one to behave till her mother got home.

"It's good to meet you guys." He said to Ryan and Thaelor. "But if she asked me to get that...strap in...it's going to be a doozy. Hope to see you later." With that, he turned and left.

The siblings followed their Aunt to the back patio. Sitting at the table, Flo opened the jar. A strong odor of alcohol wafted out when the lid was removed. "Ashley!" Flo yells. The young girl comes marching to the call of her grandmother and stands in the door. "Go into the living room and fetch me that big blue album. The one I used to show you when you were little. Oh...and you owe these people an apology for being so nasty. They are your cousins after all."

"I'm sorry." The young girl says. Then she turns a walks back in the house.

Flo picked up the jar and poured the shots of PGA (Pure Grain Alcohol) and waits for her grand daughter to return. "She's a good girl." Flo remarks. "But she's getting to that age when boys are becoming a little more interesting. My daughter will be home soon, and she desperately wants Ashley to go to college. Boys around here have a tendency of messing up plans like that."

The girl returns carrying a very large photo album in her arms. It was old and worn, bursting at the seams to hold all the memories.

"I guess the best place to start is at the beginning." Said Florence. "You children come closer and learn where you come from." Ryan and Thaelor moved closer, waiting with bated breath to see into the past.

Opening the book to the first page, there were two old black and white pictures. The first of a gruff looking white man. Hair dark as night, peppered with stripes of white, flanked by two younger men, most obviously his sons. All dressed in overalls and white t-shirts.

"This is my Grandfather Cyrus Bailey, and his sons Greg and Brian. They lived on the white side of town as farmers mostly. Though eventually they began working in the mines as well. The second picture was of a young black woman (most likely in her mid-thirties). She was tall-ish for a woman, with long black hair and cheekbones that could've denoted belonging to some tribe of Native American. "This is Black Phyllis. She was my Grandmother. She worked as a maid to Cyrus and his family as for all that was known, she was alone in the world. She lived just over the river here in the black side of town. As was almost normal back then, Cyrus paid her a little bit more for...other services than cleaning. Eventually, she became pregnant with his child. As you can imagine, Cyrus had no intention of taking care of her or his child. But what he didn't realize is that she also worked nights for Mr. Brooks, the mine owner, and while he wasn't exactly fond of black people, he was fond of the work she did for him, and pressured Cyrus to take responsibility for his actions like a good Christian man."

Ryan's brow furrowed. Hearing that his family tree had to endure such tragedy, made his blood boil. But, he had to quell his anger. It was a much different time.

Turning the page again, were two more pictures. The first another black and white picture of Black Phyllis sitting on a porch holding a very light skinned baby. Fat, round, and almost albino in shade, the child's hair was also a mixture of black strands and what might be blond, as it was so light. The next picture under it was also black and white, but this time, the little girl had grown. Most likely in the picture, she was about 10. Her skin had darkened only marginally, but her hair was now a full, flowing black. Her features had smoothed out with time. Becoming more angular, and European in appearance. One might almost mistake her for "white." Only her full lips and high cheekbones gave any indication of not being "pure." The next page showed her in late teen age years. She was stunningly beautiful. Thin, yet full figured. A shade to her skin that looked almost "tan." More importantly at first glance, she could've been a close relative of Thaelor's.

"This is my mother Betty Ann. Child of Cyrus and Phyllis. As you can see...she was very "light skinned." She said, looking directly at Thaelor. "See sweetie...you're not the only one." Thaelor blushed. Her mixed heritage had always been a sticking point for her. Her upbringing among both whites and blacks had caused many nights of hurt feelings and identity hardships. But, being with Ryan had soothed many of those ills.

"Cyrus did take care of his responsibilities; if even they were bare minimum. But Phyllis raised Betty as best she could. Until she was murdered. Found raped, beaten and discarded in a creek bed on this side of the river. No one of course knew anything and the sheriff didn't even care enough to investigate. Betty was 14 years old and alone. Cyrus and his boys took advantage. In order to survive, she moved in with her father. He was a cruel man. Working her mercilessly at the house. While also taking his "liberties" with her young body. His sons Greg and Brian took their turns too. By the time she was 16, Betty Ann had had enough. She wanted to join her mother and tried to drown herself in the river. But she was saved."

"How?" Thaelor asked, scooting even closer. This story was better than anything she had seen in the movies or TV lately. She was dying to find out what happened next.

Turning the page again, revealed the biggest, blackest man either sibling had ever seen. His hands were huge, making the pick ax he held look like a toy. His skin dark as evil, his arms big as tree trunks. His face, chiseled stone.

"This is my father; "Nigger Bear" Henry Morrison. He was the man that saved my mother by dragging her cold body out of the river. The story from my mother goes that he carried her all the way from the river to the other side of black town, where a mixed "medicine" woman lived. He paid her in crops and the little bit of money he had saved. For 2 months, he looked in on Betty Ann, making sure she didn't die. Once she awakened, she began to befriend her savior. Henry gathered enough material to fix her mother's old home so that Betty Ann could live in peace away from her kin. Over time, Betty Ann came to fall in love with Henry. Eventually, she became pregnant again, this time having me and my sister. But, secrets never stay hidden for long. Cyrus found out that not only was my mother alive (he claimed she ran away to other townsfolk), but that she was pregnant too. As far as he was concerned, she was his property. Yet, he didn't have the courage to come over the river and see for himself. Somehow, someone told him that she had twins. One "white" and one black. He became furious! A madman! He just knew the children were his."