Twylite

by Rhonda M. Lawson

Genres: African American; African American Urban

Synopsis

Twylite Knight has always thought of herself as a cut above the other girls who attend her New Orleans Catholic school. She makes excellent grades, has an angelic singing voice, and an older boyfriend who drives her around in his fancy car and showers her with gifts. Her family sees Peanut for what he really is—an abusive, manipulative criminal who will bring their daughter nothing but trouble. Once Twylite begins to see Peanut through her parents' eyes, she leaves him, but Peanut isn't ready to let go so easily. When his quest to get her back ends in a brutal rape, Twylite begins questioning her entire outlook on life. New to New Orleans, Isis Reynolds is a sexual assault victims' advocate and has just been assigned to Twylite's case. Having had a troublesome teen life herself, she immediately identifies with her client—so much so that she doesn't realize she's in too deep until she smacks rock bottom face to face. Dr. Alexis Duplessis has been Twylite's doctor for as long as she can remember. Twylite sees the doctor as a big sister, so when she is raped, it's no surprise that Alexis is the first person she runs to. Alexis, who traditionally only looks out for herself, now finds herself in the middle as she watches both Isis and Twylite self-destruct in their own ways. Will any of these women find their way back to sanity, or will they get lost in an issue that they find is much bigger than themselves? Is there really a light after the storm?

Release date: April 1, 2014

Publisher: Urban Renaissance

Print pages: 288

Sample

Twylite stared at Dr. Duplessis’s office door, wondering whether she should knock or run. Dr. Duplessis had been her doctor for the last six years, and was like a big sister. They could talk about anything, and sometimes Twylite would hang out at her office even when she didn’t have an appointment.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted anyone to know what had just happened to her, but Dr. Duplessis seemed to be the safest bet. The doctor wouldn’t judge her. Although she would be disappointed in her, she wouldn’t yell at her like her momma and daddy would. Speaking of her parents, how was she going to call them? Her backpack was still in Peanut’s car.

How could he rape her and then leave her like that? Had it not been for the cab in the Winn-Dixie parking lot a mile away, she didn’t know how she would have gotten to the doctor’s office. Aside from a couple of dollars for the city bus, she had absolutely no money. It had to be only the grace of God that allowed the cabbie to drive halfway across the city without asking for anything in return. Then again, only a heartless monster would look at a teenage girl wearing shredded clothing and not take her to get help. At least she wanted to think that.

Now here she was, so close, yet so far. She stood at the door, afraid to knock. Afraid to face the truth. Afraid to recount what had happened nearly an hour and a half ago. She pulled at her torn shirt, trying her best to keep herself covered.

“Stop being stupid and just open the door,” she told herself quietly. “Get some damned help!”

She shook her head. It was almost eight o’clock. There was no chance that Dr. Duplessis could still be at work that time of night. Maybe she’d just go home and face the music.

Voices.

They came from the other side of the door.

The doctor was there after all.

Suddenly, panic struck. Her mind was being made up for her way too fast. She still hadn’t convinced herself that she was ready to talk to anyone, but soon someone would take one look at her and ask what happened. She wanted to run, but her weakness wouldn’t allow it. Instead, it turned her feet into lead, keeping her planted in that hallway, leaning and sobbing against the wall.

The voices had reached the hallway. Two women were laughing, but within seconds the laughing stopped.

“Twylite?” a voice asked.

She knew it was the doctor, but she couldn’t answer. She tried, but only louder sobs surfaced.

Someone touched her shoulders, but she snatched away as if the lady’s fingers were made of white-hot steel.

“Baby? You okay?” an older woman’s voice asked.

Twylite was sure that voice came from Dr. Duplessis’s nurse, Ms. Kay, but she couldn’t bring herself to look up. Neither woman said anything for a minute. She guessed they were standing there, watching her, wondering what they should say.

“Twylite, sweetie,” Dr. Duplessis beckoned, gently pulling her by the shoulders. Twylite snatched away again, but the doctor was undeterred. She guided her into the office anyway. “Come sit down and talk to me.”

Twylite did as she was told, but kept her head down and face covered, afraid of what she would reveal if she looked Dr. Duplessis in the eyes. She hadn’t even looked in the mirror. It wasn’t hard to know that her once-pretty face was now beaten, burned, and tearstained. Why look at something like that?

Dr. Duplessis guided her to the sofa in her waiting room. Twylite’s hands remained over her face. She knew she couldn’t hide her wounds forever, but she would delay the inevitable for as long as she could.

“Ms. Kay, can you get her a cold drink or something?” Dr. Duplessis asked. “Twylite, you want something to drink?”

She shook her head no and continued sobbing.

“Baby, what happened to your clothes?” Ms. Kay asked. “What happened to you?”

Twylite sighed and uncovered her face. The moment had come. Both women gasped and covered their mouths when they took in the horror that had overtaken the young girl’s beauty.

“Twylite, baby, who did this to you?” Dr. Duplessis asked, nearly shouting her words. “I should have known something was going on. You standing in the hall crying with your clothes all torn and dirty. Have you been to a hospital?”

Ms. Kay turned to her, concern etched into her eyebrows. Dr. Duplessis rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“What am I saying?” she asked, smacking her forehead. “Of course you have. That’s why you’re here. I’m a doctor. You’re in my office.”

“Doctor,” Ms. Kay stated, grabbing her shoulders gently. “Calm down. You ain’t gonna be a bit of help to anybody, you keep acting like this.”

The older nurse turned to Twylite, who had begun crying again. “Where are your parents?”

Twylite shrugged. “I guess they’re at home. I can’t call them because Pea . . .” She stopped just short of saying Peanut’s name. Would he come after her if he knew she’d told people what he did? What if her momma gave her the beat down of her life for even putting herself into this position by getting into his car?

“Why can’t you call them, baby?” Ms. Kay asked. She looked at her carefully, the concern growing deeper in her brow. “Everything all right at home?

“Oh, yes,” Twylite said quickly. She hadn’t meant to insinuate that her parents had anything to do with this. The tears trailed down her face once again as she turned to Dr. Duplessis. “Can you please call them for me?”

Without a word, the doctor rose and walked to the phone on the receptionist’s desk. Quiet overcame them as she went through the Rolodex on the desk. Once she located the number, she quickly dialed and picked up the receiver.

“Mr. Knight?” she asked, her voice scratchy. She turned away and cleared her throat before announcing, “Your daughter Twylite is in my office.”

She placed her head down as she listened. Twylite was sure he was yelling into the phone, demanding that he be told what was going on.

“Sir, I haven’t done anything with her just yet, as she hasn’t told me what happened, but I do believe you should get over here as soon as possible. And, Mr. Knight, can you call the police? From the looks of things, this is a very serious matter.”

Twylite felt her heart would beat right through her chest when she heard Dr. Duplessis mention the police. Soon, everyone would know that she was stupid enough to get herself raped by her older ex-boyfriend. Her parents, a deacon and deaconess at Greater Zion Baptist Church, would have to face the embarrassment of explaining this to Pastor Coleman, and having a bunch of nosey members disguised as well-meaning sisters and brothers ask them if poor little Twylite was doing okay. She could just hear it now:

“I saw Twylite the other day. Her face didn’t look too good. How she holdin’ up?”

“Did they catch that boy who did that to her?”

“You should make sure she ain’t pregnant. You’d hate for her to have to raise a baby born outta this situation.”

“Mr. Knight, she looks pretty bad,” Dr. Duplessis continued. “I normally wouldn’t do this without you being here, but I would really like to do a SAFE kit as soon as possible on her. If I can get your permission to examine her without a parent escort, I can have Ms. Kay accompany me. That way when the police get here, we can turn the evidence over to them right away.”

“She’s holding up under the circumstances,” she said after a few seconds. “She’s pretty shaken up. Um, Mr. Knight, I’d like to go ahead and get started on her. I’ll fill you in on everything else when you get here. Don’t forget to bring her a change of clothes.”

Once she finally got Mr. Knight off the phone, she turned to Twylite and took a deep breath. “Twylite, I’m going to give you an exam. I don’t know what happened, but I have a feeling. I’ll wait for your parents to get here to ask you what happened. I don’t want you to have to relive this any more than you need to.”

“Doctor, are you going to be okay to do the exam?” Ms. Kay asked. She sat next to Twylite, rubbing her shoulders to console the tears away, but her eyes bore into her boss.

“I’m fine. What’s important is making sure Twylite is okay.” She turned toward the teenager sitting in a ball on the sofa next to her nurse. “Twylite, can I do an examination on you?”

Twylite looked up, fear decorating her eyes. “What kind of exam?”

“I don’t know what exactly happened, but I think you were raped. This exam is called a sexual assault forensics exam. It will help us to collect evidence if you want to press charges.”

“Press charges?” Twylite repeated, her eyes widening. It was already starting.

“You do want whoever did this to you to be punished, don’t you?” Ms. Kay asked, patting her shoulder reassuringly.

Twylite hesitated, wrestling with whether she was ready to send Peanut to jail. Yes, he’d raped her, but deep down he had to be sorry, right? But then again, how could anyone rape the woman he loved and leave her on the side of the road like that?

Dr. Duplessis shook her head. Twylite could see the doctor’s hands tense into fists, and then loosen. Anyone else probably would have missed the slight action, but Twylite had known her too long. She was pissed, but struggled not to show it.

“Twy, I know you’re not considering letting this man continue to walk the streets after what happened,” the doctor said, her voice shaky. “I love you like my little sister, and I refuse to let you do that.”

Twylite sighed, knowing Dr. Duplessis was right. Besides, what harm could come out of getting the exam? At least she could get cleaned up. “What happens in the exam?”

Dr. Duplessis smiled slightly, relaxing her shoulders. She nodded at Ms. Kay, who tapped the girl’s thigh and helped her up.

“Come on in the examining room and I’ll explain it to you,” Ms. Kay said as she led the girl toward the back.

Once alone, Alexis paced back and forth in the waiting room, finally letting the tears fall. She could no longer hold them back, so she was relieved when Twylite finally agreed to the exam.

She’d known Twylite Knight since she was eleven years old. Her parents were one of the few families who followed Alexis when she decided to open her own practice after Hurricane Katrina. Over the years, she and Twylite had grown close. She was even considering giving the girl a job as a part-time receptionist.

Never had she expected what she’d seen tonight. Up until now, the only thing Alexis had seen on Twylite’s face was a smile wider than the Greater New Orleans Bridge.

It had to be that boy she was sneaking around with. She’d seen him a couple of times when he dropped Twylite off at the hospital. He always seemed a little too clingy for her taste. And she wasn’t sure how old he was, but he looked too old for an impressionable teenager like Twylite.

Even his mannerisms indicated that he’d seen a lot more in life than Twylite had. She got excited about things that he felt were no big deal. Many times she would complain that they never did the things that many of her girlfriends did, like going to movies, dances, or even Burger King to hang, like he was above such things. Where she seemed happy and excited, he was stoic. Yet, when she would leave him, he would pull her by the waist and kiss her like she was a grown woman.

“I don’t like dat boy,” Mrs. Knight commented to Alexis. “I know she done slept wit’ him. Let my chile come up wit’ a STD one time, and I’ma shoot his dick off myself!”

Alexis thought it strange that Mrs. Knight didn’t seem as concerned about Twylite getting pregnant, but she tried not to let on. Instead, she just nodded and lifted her eyebrows in agreement. But she nearly choked on her Diet Pepsi when she heard Mrs. Knight’s next statement.

“Maybe you could talk to her, Docta Duplessis, ’cause she sho as hell ain’t listenin’ to me and her daddy,” she said, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. She tried to hide it by looking away, but Alexis saw it. This woman was serious.

“Me? I . . . I’m just her doctor,” Alexis stammered, holding on to her desk for balance. “Why would she listen to me?”

“She’ll listen to you,” Mrs. Knight said, staring at Alexis’s shoes. She shifted nervously, as if asking another woman—a younger woman, at that—to do her job was the worst embarrassment she’d ever experienced. “Y’all talk all da time.”

“Yeah, but I don’t get in her business,” Alexis replied, drumming her pen on her desk. “I let her say whatever’s on her mind, and then she goes about her business. I try not to cross that line.”

The worried mother nodded, choosing not to push the issue any further. After a couple more minutes of small talk, she excused herself and disappeared within the madness of downtown New Orleans.

That was three weeks ago. Guilt kicked her in the ass as she thought back to that evening. She wondered if she had done as Mrs. Knight asked would she be standing in her office at nine o’clock at night about to perform a sexual assault forensics exam on one of her oldest patients.

“If ‘if’ was a spliff we’d all be messed up,” she mumbled, wiping away the last of her tears. She wasn’t sure where she’d heard that phrase, but for some reason it seemed to fit this situation.

It was time to get back into doctor mode. The Knights would storm into her office any minute, and she didn’t want to be in the waiting room when they did. If she was, she’d never get the exam started because she’d be too busy trying to answer questions she didn’t have the answers to. Twylite was the most important person in this situation. Alexis would have to deal with her guilt later.

She reached behind the receptionist’s desk and fished out a notepad. After scribbling a note for the Knights, she reached for the phone and dialed home.

“Hello?” asked a gruff male voice.

Alexis smiled slightly, knowing she’d woken her husband Jamar from a deep sleep. “You asleep already?”

He yawned. “Yeah, I had a long day. You on the way home? I’ll tell you all about it.”

“I wish, baby, but I got a rape victim in tonight, so I’m about to do an exam.” She didn’t want to tell him it was Twylite. Although he’d never met her, she talked about the bright, aspiring singer all the time, so much so that he felt like he knew her. Saying her name would only prompt more questions, and she was running out of time. “I’ll be late, so go back to sleep and I’ll tell you about it in the morning.”

He yawned again. “All right, babe. Ring me when you’re on the way. I’m about to hit this pillow again.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Alexis smiled, glad that after all the frogs she’d kissed over the years she’d finally found her prince. It felt good knowing that she’d have arms to lie in once she got through all the drama she was sure was on the way.

“Doctor.”

Ms. Kay’s soft voice broke her thoughts, but that was a good thing. It was time for doctor mode. She turned and faced her nurse.

“She’s ready.”

Not long after Alexis disappeared into the examining room, Adele and Earl Knight burst into the doctor’s office, torment and worry animating their every step. Who could blame them? Their only daughter had been through God knows what, and there was nothing they could do to take away the pain. Even if they could, what could they do? No one was even sure what happened.

Adele Knight looked around the waiting room, adjusting her sweater. It was warm in the office, much warmer than it had been outside. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to take off the sweater. Getting comfortable would seem too social, and this was definitely not a social visit.

She stared toward the closed door that blocked what was going on in the examination room. The tears she thought had run their course in the car returned in force. “I guess they’re still in there.”

Earl Knight walked to the receptionist’s desk and picked up the handwritten note Alexis had left propped against a vase. “I guess so.”

Adele continued staring at the door as if trying to burn a hole through the solid wood. She then suddenly snapped her head toward the front door. “What’s taking those damned police so long?”

“Baby, we only called dem about ten minutes ago,” Earl tried to reason. “Give dem a chance to get here.”

“Dey shoulda been here. Damned police precincts all over this town. I told dem Twylite had been raped. Dey shoulda been here.”

“Baby, we don’t know dat fa sho,” Earl said.

“What else could it be, Earl?” Adele began pacing the same route Alexis had paced earlier. Only her pace doubled that of the doctor’s. “She been gone half the night, and her damned docta calls us? What else could it be?”

As the words came out of her mouth, Adele wished she could take them back. Earl had taken a seat on the sofa, and held his head in his hands. His foot absently kicked the old schoolbag where Adele had packed Twylite’s clothes. She knew he was scared. Yet, he took his role as the man of the house seriously. He had to be the strong one. He had to be the one to take care of his women. He needed to be the protector. Now his only daughter was being examined for only God knew what, and his wife was distraught. She knew he felt like he had failed somewhere.

She covered her face with her palms and inhaled deeply. The smell of the perfume she’d spritzed on her wrists at Lakeside Mall earlier still graced her skin. Why hadn’t she bought that perfume? She couldn’t even remember the name at this point. It just wasn’t important right now. Adjusting her sweater once again, she took a seat next to her husband and leaned her head against his muscular shoulder.

He responded by placing his arm around her shoulders and squeezing her tricep. The gesture wasn’t very strong, but Adele knew it was all he could offer under the circumstances. Silence hung over them like a wet rug. It was almost deafening. The couple continued to stare at the closed door for what seemed like hours.

In reality, they’d only waited about ten minutes before a click caused their eyes to dart toward the examination room. The door opened. Seconds later, Ms. Kay stepped out, her face pensive once she saw the Knights huddled together in the waiting room.

“Mr. and Mrs. Knight,” she greeted them quietly, with a quick head nod. “We’re done with the examination. Thank you for letting us get started.”

“We just want Twylite to get the help she needs,” Earl said, taking his arm from around Adele’s shoulders and grabbing her hand. “Did she tell you what happened?”

Before Ms. Kay could answer, two of New Orleans’s finest walked into the office. “We’re looking for an Adele Knight?” announced the taller one. He was an African American, who, despite his towering height, looked to Adele to be young enough to be her son.

She stood, her husband following suit. “Dat’s me. What took y’all so long?”

“We got here as soon as we could,” explained the shorter one. Adele thought he looked to be the older one, so to her he had to be the one in charge. He was also African American, but looked to be straight out of the Seventh Ward—heavy set, light skinned, and smooth talking. Although it had been years since the Creoles separated themselves from the common darker-skinned black folks in New Orleans by moving to the Seventh Ward, the area spanning from Esplanade Avenue to Bayou Saint John, it was still an easy assumption that many light-skinned blacks either lived or grew up there.

“Since we didn’t know what we were responding to, I’m sorry to say we, uh, couldn’t get here faster,” the shorter policeman continued.

Earl’s jaw tightened, but to Adele’s relief, he didn’t raise his voice. “My wife told you on the phone dat we think our daughter was raped.”

The older policeman sighed. “Can we all sit down?”

Ms. Kay stepped forward. “Mr. Knight, are those Twylite’s clothes by your feet? Can I get them? Dr. Duplessis talked her into telling us what happened, but I’ma need to warn her that the police are here. I hope the poor girl don’t get scared and clam up.”

“Was it a rape?” the younger policeman asked. “If it was, we’re required to contact a sexual assault victim’s advocate. I took the liberty of calling the rape crisis center just in case.”

“What’s sexual assault—” Adele asked.

“Excuse me,” Ms. Kay whispered, walking forward and grabbing the bag herself. Once she retrieved it, she retreated to the examination room and closed the door behind her.

“First of all, we should introduce ourselves,” the older policeman said. “My name is Officer Mosley, and this is Officer Yarbrough. Like I said, we got here as fast as we could. I didn’t want to waste too much time, so I had Officer Yarbrough call the crisis center to send somebody over.”

“But we don’t know if there was a rape yet,” Earl broke in.

Adele looked up at her husband, feeling sorry for his wishful thinking. He still refused to picture his baby as the victim of a crime of passion. How he would react when the truth that she was sure would come out finally surfaced remained to be seen.

She exhaled heavily and asked, “Who did you say is coming over?”

“A sexual assault victim’s advocate,” Officer Yarbrough explained, empathy seeming to replace some of the tension that filled his voice when he first walked into the office. “This person is pretty much there to give the victim support throughout the investigation process.”

“But dat’s what we’re here for,” Earl protested.

Yarbrough nodded sympathetically. “Sometimes victims, especially teenagers, feel better talking to people other than the folks closest to them.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room, broken only by a click coming from the examination room. Adele could no longer contain herself when she saw the bruises and burns that followed Dr. Duplessis out into the waiting area. She ran to her daughter, wailing so loudly she could have woken the dead in the next parish. She cupped Twylite’s face gingerly in her hands.

“I’m okay, Momma,” Twylite whispered. She tried to smile, but Adele could see right through it. This wasn’t the same girl who’d left their home for school that morning.

“You sho?” Earl asked, standing right behind Adele. She moved to the side so he could hug his daughter.

Twylite nodded. “Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

“Whatcha sor. . .