When why is the only reason

Lani was walking that fine line again. She had already been told more times than Magic Johnson stacked assists that walking that line was a fatality waiting to happen. She couldn’t help it though, and every time she stepped outside, she ignored the possibilities. Lani discovered last summer that balancing the cement grove that separated her house and the curb from Belmont Boulevard was a fantastic way to work on her balance.

“I wonder when the city is going to add the bike lane to Belmont?” Lani asked, surprised to see Daddy change the light bulb in the porch light. It had not been turned on in almost two years.

“Well, there is a lot of resident resistance,” Daddy replied. “People want Belmont to have only two lanes. Anything more would be a traffic nightmare they claim. Frankly, I think it will be a blessing in disguise. People will have to slow down. The City Council is holding another meeting Tuesday. I plan to attend.”

Daddy had always been a community activist. He has photos of him with the Black Panthers and protesting in DC with the Nation of Islam. He even broke bread with Malcolm X and King. Not at the same time of course he reminds us. He was born in Alabama and made it his life mission to assist in justifying the moral injustices of racism. He was elected to the City Council Board about three years ago but resigned last year. He still attends all the meetings, however, and always knows the important issues around the city. I agreed with him. Less cars on Belmont meant a more secure neighborhood and a safer balance practice for me.

During the week, I would leave for school forty-five minutes early so I could balance walk up Belmont. I tiptoed all the way up to the fork in the road where the middle school sits and the city’s white residents positioned themselves securely from rest of the populations that were housed mainly south of the city. “It is a dangerous influx of outsiders,” I heard one neighbor describe the integration, but I decided years ago that the only safe side of town was the side God is on.

Sooney Middle School was about a mile up Belmont sitting at the fork in the road that separated the library from the school bus garage. The neighborhood has become more diverse over the past few years and the garage was always busy getting buses out early to bring students in from other parts of the city. The bus drivers would honk at me when they saw me balancing on the curb either to say hello or get out of their way.

Sooney was also the city’s largest middle school that combines sixth grade with junior high. A lot of parents didn’t like the consolidation, fearing that their children were not ready to integrate with older students, especially those of other races. I thought it was cool and Daddy always kept me updated on Sooney news because he was also the president of the PTA. A role he inherited when Mother died.

Mother was shot two years ago. She was shot in the head one evening as she sat on the porch working. She was one of those moms you watched on The Hallmark Channel, but with an edge. The type of Mother no one would want to kill. She personified perfection from her hair to her clothes, to her oatmeal pecan cranberry cookies. Her secret was the pecans soaked in honey and a little salt. Whenever Sooney had a bake sale, she had preorders! She never missed a fundraiser and spent the majority of her nonprofessional time being PTA president and organizing events. Her work schedule gave her plenty of time to support the school. She was a court reporter for the Federal Court downtown.

Although Mother’s murder was first page news of the Herald for weeks, the police told Daddy they could not find any suspects nor a connection between the trial and Mother’s shooting. She had been working on a case involving several people who worked for the Mayor and Labor Commission. She would come home from court more tired than usual and the phone was always ringing. I could tell Daddy was worried about her and I would hear them discussing the trial behind their bedroom door. He wanted her to not transcribe the case, but she said it was her job. A couple of weeks later she was shot, sitting on the front porch transcribing some notes. It was a Friday night and we always went to the Sooney football games together, but she didn’t go that night saying she had to catch up on some work, The detective told Daddy that with some of the shots went through the bay window behind the porch swing and it was fortunate that we had not been inside. Daddy spent a couple of days in jail for hitting Detective Malloy, but the detective eventually dropped the assault charges saying he understood Daddy’s state of mind at the time.

The case had been at a standstill for almost two years and still no arrests had been made. Daddy called Detective Malloy every week and he eventually stopped accepting Daddy’s calls. The therapist told Daddy that he had to reframe his anger and frustration into positive, productive thoughts and actions for both of us to heal. So, joining the PTA became a perfect way to remember Mother, stay active in the community. Besides, he had retired a few months before Mother died. They had made plans to travel to Europe. Mother had always wanted to experience London and Daddy was going to surprise her with plane tickets on her birthday. The tickets were still on his desk.

I went to stay with Aunt Carmen, Mother’s sister in Chicago after the shooting for the rest of the year and finished 5th grade remotely. As we pulled out of the train station, Aunt Carmen told me that Daddy needed some time to heal and couldn’t take care of me the way I needed. “But I miss Mom too,” I screamed as she pulled off the road and hugged me tight and long. “I know, Lani, I know.”

Eventually, Daddy got better and I moved back to Belmont. We started seeing a family counselor the summer before sixth grade. That’s when I started my balance walks. Aunt Carmen had enrolled me in an advanced gymnastic league when I stayed with her and the coach said she was impressed with all events, except the beam. I was constantly falling off and the coach stated I had to work on securing my balance. She even had me walk on the beam holding 5-pound weights in each hand until I fell off and broke a tooth on one of the weights. Aunt Carmen cursed her with words I had never heard before that translated into how her weight idea was an idiotic idea. She didn’t even call Daddy but instead found an emergency dental clinic that accepted cash.

I still didn’t know how Daddy felt about my gymnastics, but when he replaced the porch light bulb that had been shot out when Mother was murdered, I saw it as a good sign. Gymnastics had been Mom’s project and her trajectory for my life and of course Daddy had given her the green light regardless of cost. That is why he volunteered to take Mother’s place as PTA president. Excelling in my gymnastics would be my way to honor Mother and my balance walks were my catalyst for healing.

Daddy had a PTA meeting one afternoon, so I waited for him in the gym. I pulled mats out of the locker room so I could stretch and practice my floor routine. I didn’t have a spotter so I couldn’t use the apparatus. I turned on my iPod and Mom’s favorite song. filled the empty spaces. She had picked this song for my floor routine because it had both upbeat rhythms and soft melodies as well as lyrics about reaching your dreams. I was halfway through my routine when I looked across the gym and saw Daddy staring at me. I turned off the iPod, but Daddy yelled, “No don’t turn it off!”

He walked towards me and I could see that his face was wet from the tears falling from his eyes. “I haven’t heard that song in such a long time. It was your mom’s favorite.”

I know. I wanted to use a different song, something more contemporary and upbeat,” I recalled, “but she assured me that this song contained all the highs and lows needed for a solid floor routine. I heard her voice in the lyrics telling me, “Beautiful Lani, beautiful. You’re zooming through the air like a bird, flying free.”

“Well, I certainly watched you stick all those landings a few minutes ago. I didn’t realize how good you are. I guess I haven’t been paying too much attention to the valuable assets I still have. I want to say I’m sorry about that. Lani. I clearly see why Mother was so invested in your gymnastic career.

I watched the song take Daddy somewhere back with Mother. Daddy heard the song pulsating from the disc player in the living room. “Remember to play this song at my send off,” Mother said as her gaze searched the stars.

“Oh, Jolene, don’t talk like that. Besides, you’ll have another song you like better before then.”

“I doubt it !” Jolene’s gaze rested upon Daddy’s face as she laid her head on his shoulder.

Daddy refocused. “Well Lani. I’ll be outside waiting in the car. Do you need help putting these mats away?”

I didn’t know how to respond. Had he really not paid attention to my training and Mom’s plans all these years? “No, I’m good. I’ll be out in a few minutes,” and our Daddy daughter moment became another memory.

One evening, I was sitting on the porch in the same spot Mother had been sitting in when she was shot. Daddy didn’t switch out the bloody cushions for a long time, but when he changed the porch light bulb the glow revealed several crusty brown stains that the coroner said were from the blood spray. We went to Walmart and purchased green cushions. Green was Mother’s favorite color and the blood splatter on the porch concrete was covered with a new coat of brown paint. When sitting on the porch, I often thought about that night and wondered why someone would want to kill my Hallmark Channel Mother. I would never understand.

I was stretched out across the floor in front of the new 55” Smart TV that Daddy bought us for Christmas. Both of us were avid sports fans and the new set enhanced our viewing pleasure. We were up close and personal. It was ironic because it had been Mom’s plan for me to be at the Paris Olympics opening ceremony. I looked at the smiles on the athletes faces as the American gymnasts waved at the crowds. My dream of a gymnastic career felt more out of reach than ever. Daddy heard my hollow sigh as he walked in with a bowl of popcorn and two diet Cokes.

“What’s wrong, Lani? Here, eat some popcorn. I put a lot of butter on it just the way you like.”

I could see Mom’s disapproving glare all the way from heaven so I took the Diet Coke instead. “Nothing’s wrong. I just know if Mom were still here, we would be in Paris.”

“Well, sometimes, plans go awry, buy your Aunt Carmen said you could attend that gymnastics camp again this summer. Then you can prepare for the next Olympics. It’s not too late.”

“Well, if I don’t make the next U.S. team this year, it will be too late.”

“Stay positive. Lani. At least I did all I could to make sure you had a chance in reaching your dream.”

I looked over at Daddy sitting on the couch. I don’t remember him actually being involved with any of my competitions or training. He looked like he was choking. Like he had swallowed too many popcorn kernels at one time. “ Are you ok Daddy? Drink some Coke, “ as I handed him a bottle. What do you mean, you did all you could to help me with reaching my gymnastics goal?”

Daddy shifted his posture, pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, and blew his nose. “I’m ok. Just missing Mother and how we all used to sit around the tv during the Olympics. You know, I was thinking. I still have those plane tickets to London that I bought for your mother’s, our anniversary trip. How about you and I go? I know it is not Paris, but I believe it will help both have a fresh perspective and I heard the fish and chips are one of a kind.”

Daddy was deflecting. He hadn't really deflected in a while, but he had become very good at changing the subject mid conversation since Mom died. I wasn’t letting him off the hook. “Tell me what you mean, Daddy!”

Tears started swelling up in Daddy’s eyes again. He opened his mouth to say something, but his words remained unspoken.

“Why are you crying, Daddy?” Did something happen?” I was worried. I hadn’t seen Daddy cry since Mother got shot.

“You know I am not the one to dig up the past.” Especially since we worked so hard to move forward after Mother. There are times that the decisions we have to make are not fair and continue to haunt us, but we must learn to focus on the greater good.”

I was confused. Daddy was talking in riddles. “Daddy, you’re scaring me. What are you talking about?”

He looked into my eyes and grabbed my hands. “The people who killed Mother. I know who they are. Two men made me pull over one night after a city council meeting. They said if I couldn’t convince Mother to stop transcribing the trial, someone was going to get hurt. Some way they knew you were training for the Olympics and implied something horrible. It would be a shame if something happened to her legs,” they told me.

I had gone to another place when Daddy said he knew who killed Mom. I involuntarily rejected everything he said after that.

“Lani, Lani. Say something. Daddy was shaking me. “This is why it is a perfect time to go to London. So, we can put all this behind us and you can start seriously training again as if Mother were still here.”

“But she’s not, is she?” I screamed and slapped him across the face. I began hitting him everywhere there was skin and the popcorn flew around us like confetti.”

“I had to tell you Lani. I knew if I kept holding in the truth it would destroy me…us.”

Tears were cascading down my cheeks and I was blinded except Daddy’s torn face. A bright light suddenly flashed across the tv screen. A Parisian garbage collector was carrying the Olympic torch. Anything is possible.

As soon as the school year ended, I moved to Chicago with Aunt Carmen. It would be a permanent arrangement. Aunt Carmen picked me up the night I completed my final exams. Daddy carried my suitcases to the car and placed them in the trunk like he was lifting cement. He appeared broken since that day in the basement and was just as relieved as me that I was leaving. The silence between us had become painful. I’m not sure Daddy told Aunt Carmen everything about Mother. I can’t imagine Aunt Carmen’s demonstrative spirit taking the news quietly. The fact that Daddy knew her sister was going to be killed and didn’t do anything to prevent it would motivate that same highly agitated Carmen into some type of retaliatory behavior.

It took weeks after the Opening Games ceremony before I could even be in the same room as Daddy. I asked him to make it right and he said that he could never go to the police with the truth because me and Aunt Carmen would be in danger. We didn’t speak at all after that and we never took that trip to England. Daddy did go, however, and never really came back except to tie up loose ends with the house. I didn’t want the house even though I would be of legal age in a couple of years to live where I wanted. He offered to send me a ticket to visit London, but I told myself I was too consumed with training for my last attempt at the US Olympic games. He sent me a letter of support when I didn’t make the team, but I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know how I felt about much of anything; I just wanted Mother so much more lately. I asked Aunt Carmen to just take a picture of me falling off the balance beam. I mailed it back in response, “Thanks, but it’s over!” I scribbled beneath. The Olympics had always been Mother’s vision anyway and I never did catch my balance.