Yesterday, I Cried_ Celebrating the Lessons of Living and Loving - Iyanla Vanzant [33]
“The dog did it,” Rhonda said, her eyes were lowered to the bubbles in the tub.
“What dog?!” Nett asked. “What dog did this to you, Ronnie?”
“The dog downstairs in the backyard.”
Nett carefully, gingerly, took Rhonda out of the tub. “Oh my God,” she said over and over again to herself. Nett didn’t want to wrap Rhonda in a towel, her back was so raw. “Oh, my poor baby,” she said, “who did this to my poor baby?” And Nett began to cry.
Ray stood in the bathroom doorway and spoke up in support of Rhonda’s story. “There’s two of them, you know. One brown one and one black one. The black one barks all the time,” Ray added.
“Just shut up about the damn dogs,” Nett said. “I know didn’t no dog do this to her back!” Now everybody was in a panic. Nett, Rhonda, and Ray.
“Tell me what happened to you, Ronnie,” Lynnette spat out. Rhonda and Ray were wide-eyed and dumbfounded. Nett’s voice sounded like Grandma’s. The silence in the bathroom was heavy with fear. Rhonda was afraid to tell. Ray was afraid she would tell. Nett tried another tactic. “Tell me what happened, sweetie; tell Nett what happened to her baby, to her poor little baby.” After a few minutes more of cajoling, Rhonda took a deep breath, lowered her little chin to her chest, and told Nett the truth.
“I opened the door for the man, and Grandma beat me with the ironing cord.”
“What man? What cord?”
“Grandma always beats her with the ironing cord because she’s bad,” Ray said. Rhonda didn’t know if Ray was trying to help, or trying to get her in trouble with Nett. But Nett’s voice remained soothing, which let Rhonda know she could tell her everything. “When the insurance man came to bring Grandma mail, I opened the door so I could get the mail for Grandma.” Rhonda had begun to cry.
“Don’t cry, sweetie. It’s all right. You opened the door for Mr. Cummings?” Rhonda couldn’t speak, so she shook her head.
“Did you lock the door after he left?” Nett took another glance at Rhonda’s back and closed her eyes.
“Yeah.” Rhonda was gasping. “I did and I told Grandma I did, but she beat me anyway.”
“Ooooo!” Ray thought it was about time he added another two cents. “Grandma told you that you better not tell anybody.”
Nett shot him a quick shut-your-mouth glance, saying to him, “It’s okay. You are supposed to tell when somebody hurts you.” Then, to Rhonda, “It’s okay that you opened the door, because you knew Mr. Cummings. But I want you to promise me that you won’t ever do it again, okay?” Rhonda agreed.
It was two weeks since Grandma and the ironing cord had inflicted the damage on her back. The wounds had never been properly tended to, and Rhonda’s back had become grossly infected. Nett was horrified as she wept for this frightened child with an infection that covered 75 percent of her back. Rhonda didn’t get to go to kindergarten. Instead, she spent the next few weeks in the hospital. Nett came to visit her every day. Daddy came twice.
Nett told Daddy everything, which is what motivated him to do something that he had been putting off. He took Rhonda and her brother out of his mother’s house. He packed up his kids and their belongings, and he and Nett stood facing a raging Grandma, who stood in front of the door, using her body to block their exit. She was screaming, begging, crying that Daddy not take Ray away. Daddy looked at her with disgust and said, “Ma, shut up and move.” It was a glorious day that was etched in Rhonda’s memory forever. Somebody had found the strength and the courage to tell mean, old Grandma to shut her mouth!
Dreams really do come true, and for the first time in her life, Rhonda was living