Damali's Journal: Volume Three

By

L. A. Banks

If I could scribble out these last few hours I would, but I can’t. I need somewhere to quietly, privately bleed and wail… so this journal entry is between me and you, God. I’ve been so far and so long away from writing that, somehow I know I may never get back to what I used to do. My life, everyone’s life, is so very different now, after what just went down.

If I could scribble out these last few hours I would, but I can’t. I need somewhere to quietly, privately bleed and wail… so this journal entry is between me and you, God. I’ve been so far and so long away from writing that, somehow I know I may never get back to what I used to do. My life, everyone’s life, is so very different now, after what just went down.

Everything has been so hectic, who has had time to write? It shouldn’t even go on paper, truth be told. I just wanna curl up in a ball and cry, but I’m all cried out. I should be jumping for joy; part of me is…I don’t know why I feel this way. Conflicted. That’s the word. But the one thing I do know is, something is wrong with my man. I could feel it as my hand hovered millimeters above his feverish skin and finally touched his back. It was the way he nearly winced when my fingertips landed on his shoulders… I was so gentle. My caress was from pure love. He’d called me his wife. I don’t understand?

Maybe it was because he’d been tortured so badly… that’s why I touched him like he was made of glass. Maybe his senses are overloaded. Please God, tell me that’s it? He can’t take no more. I can’t take no more. Maybe all his nerve endings are messed up… or what he saw down there just freaked him out so much he can’t deal? Maybe he doesn’t feel it’s right to even be touched by human hands after seeing the angels? Maybe it’s the ashes on my hands… my hands are filthy from blood and battle and gore, and this man just saw something none of us have ever seen?

So, I’m sitting here with my arms wrapped around my waist, trying to make the pain stop, trying not to touch him, trying not to holler and cry and act the fool. I’m trying to stay very still and not rock. I don’t want Mar or anyone, especially not Carlos, to even know what my body is going through—and they can never know what doubts are in my mind. I hesitate to even tell You, ‘cause the last thing in the world I want is for You to be angry, think I’m ungrateful, or to take away anything else. That’s not it at all… I’m just kinda scared.

The main thing is, he’s back. That, and getting us to safety, is all that matters now. I’ll live. But the cramps are making me sick to my stomach. Maybe he’s feeling them, too? Maybe that’s why, after his ordeal with The Chairman, he can’t absorb that sensory overload? That’s the last thing I wanna do is hurt him. Y’all know I’d take a bullet for that man… would ride or die with him, just like he would for me. But I keep passing these nasty, thick clots… I just need a shower, to get clean, to forget, but how?

They took our baby, Lord God… maybe that’s why he can’t even look at me now? All I can think of is what it might have been… a little girl with wide brown eyes and fat pigtails… I would have taught her everything I know… how to fight, all of it… how to sing, and dance, and love life. She would have had all these papi Guardians and wise Nana Marlene. Forgive me. I will not cry, I will not cry, I should be thankful that it was early, we’re young, and he’s back. My man is back… he called me his wife. Thank you, Lord, for every blessing bestowed.

But I can’t lie to You and keep the tears from my eyes, ‘cause it might have been a bronze skinned, rough and tumble little boy with a wild head of unruly hair, sly smile like his daddy… beautiful brown eyes… Carlos would have taught him how to be a man. His papi is all that. A soldier. And I would have loved to watch that new life grow inside me, feel my belly fill up, just to see the look on his face… we’d talked about it, and he was so happy. God, did you see the look on that man’s face when he found out?

I will not cry, I will not cry, forgive me for crying Lord. I’m still a woman and human. Did you see his face when he found out? Did you see his dreams? Did you see his fantasy when he put his head against my big stomach and spoke soft and gentle to what was his? I would have given him anything he wanted, even that. Especially that. He’d called me his wife.

Maybe that’s why he cringed away from my touch… his lover’s hand… his wife’s caress, his friend to the bone, his confidant… the one who will keep all his secrets and never tell a livin’ soul… he came back but part of his dreams died in Hell. What could have been, what I held in me for him, that’s gone.

Next time. Yeah. I know. Just please, no more drama… make the pain stop. These clots remind me. I can feel the blood next to my skin. That was us. Me and him. I will not scream. I will not cry… oh God, another one is passing and it hurts like hell.

Still, I keep wondering what’s on this man’s mind? I just wanna hold him, tell him that whatever went down it’s gonna be all right. But my touch isn’t what he wants.

He’s cool just sitting near me, but each time I reach for him, I can feel him about to bolt. Is there something in my Neteru being that’s causing it? Am I fluxing again, or something? He sounded insane… was babbling about being a Neteru—but if he’s that, a touch from one of us shouldn’t have this effect. Is it wishful thinking, or did he come back as something too horrible to mention? Oh, my God, tell me he isn’t a daywalker, please Jesus, what is he?

I know I said I wouldn’t cry and the tears won’t stop running down my face. Yeah, okay, I’m on the verge of hysteria. Truth. ‘Cause, see, in a minute, we’re gonna get on that plane and get away from here. I can’t take a daywalker back to civilization across how many continents and countries to get back home.

But don’t ask me to behead the love of my life. I ain’t got it in me. Don’t ask me to smoke this man, not him. Not Carlos. Not this man who went to Hell and back for me… loved me like I ain’t never been loved… went through the fire, saved my family, been my world since I knew there was a world… not my husband. Not my best friend. Not my lover. Not under any circumstances, no. That’s the raw truth. I can’t. Somebody else will have to do it, and then, they’ll have to come through me and do us both. Do you know how much I love this man?

Is that why you let them kill the baby? I just need a minute to breathe… gotta get my head right, just so I can stand. But, I’m telling You, y’all can have The Isis, if that’s what you want me to do with it.

Can’t the clerics do something, if Marlene can’t? He has this strange look in his eyes like I’ve never seen before. Trauma. The color, silver, it’s wigging me out even though it’s beaubtiful. But it’s not his eyes. I can’t read his mind. His aura is off—different. It’s got colors in it I’ve never seen before, and heavy metal, silver.

Is he angel or demon… Neteru or just a man? What am I gonna do? I know I have a family to protect… a world countin’ on me… That’s my job. But I’m only human, and I just lost my baby…

God, talk to me. Please.