CHAPTER 12: There is no fixing this
I can’t bear to look at Dylan, I don’t raise my eyes to meet his. The weight of my guilt sits like a bag of cement at the bottom of my stomach. My nervousness makes me want to throw up, I swallow my saliva. No one says anything, I can almost touch the wall that is suddenly between Dylan and I. I can feel it.
‘I was due in 2 months, we made it look like a miscarriage. I had gone back home, Russel having thrown me out. I didn’t see any way out, we could hardly feed ourselves, one more mouth was not going to work out, I just couldn’t do it….’
‘Enough!’ Dylan shouts, standing up. ‘I don’t want to hear anymore, I can’t’, he sounds choked, I notice a pool of liquid at the corners of his eyes.
‘Son’, Pastor Ben offers, ‘Dylan, sit son, sit. It’s okay.’
Pastor Ben’s voice always sounds like magic, firm and gentle. Dee sits at the edge of his chair, his arms support the weight of his upper body. The image breaks me, Dylan always sits with his back straight up, an unmistaken outward show of his confidence.
Pastor Ben speaks up, ‘Thank you Mai Tembo Moyo for telling your husband the truth…,’ Dee cuts him short.
‘Noo,’ he groans, ‘It’s not right, I don’t deserve this. What wrong did I do to you Tanya? Haven’t I been a good husband? I have tried. You kept this, wasn’t I worthy of the truth?’
The words are coming out as if in between gasps of air. I still avoid his eyes.
‘Answer me Tanya, why?’ he demands.
‘I am sorry Dee, I thought if I came clean about everything you wouldn’t want me. I was selfish, I will do anything to fix this.’
‘Fix this?’ He laughs and for a second I’m worried he’s gone mad.
‘You know what, I’ve had enough for one day. Pastor, I will call you, I am leaving,’ and just like that he storms off.
I look at Pastor Ben, imploring him to call him back. Seeing that he makes no attempt to do so, I start to make for the door.
‘Mai Tembo Moyo, leave him. Let him steam off. Sit down, I would like us to have a talk.’
I comply.
‘I am gathering you have had a tough upbringing, hey? I cannot pretend to imagine what that must have been like Mrs Tembo Moyo. Always be reminded that there is no condemnation for them that are in Christ, you’re a new creature. Dylan is upset, understandably and that has to be dealt with, yes. I just want us to talk about how you feel about your past now that you’re looking back?’
There is a minute of silence. I could come up with the right words and say all the things that Pastor would expect to hear, or I could finally just open up. In a true leap of faith I decide for the latter.
‘Trust me Pastor Ben, I have wanted to talk about this with someone, to get counseling, I have not known how. This sounds like an excuse, I know. I went back to church after backsliding and quickly became active because of my singing. I joined a church that did not know me and my past. One day I was new, the next I was training the choir. It all happened too fast, I was not ready, yet I had no right to say no to the Lord’s work did I? I have always felt that people looked at me and saw a great worshipper…no, a great singer and they assumed I had it figured out. I acted righteous, to fit into the role, but I had all this history that no one knew about, and eventually no one could know about because I had become ‘someone’ in the church.’
‘Ummm I understand you Mrs Tembo Moyo, too often the church denies us the right to be God’s children because we have posts. Are these confessed sins Mrs Tembo Moyo?’ he asks gently.
‘I repented, after trying it all I really gave my life to Christ. My mothers younger sister was a blessing, even after backsliding she never gave up on me. She led me to God and then convinced my parents too.’ I smile at the memory of mainini, my gentle giant. ‘I wish she was still alive,’ I add on, an afterthought.
‘I am sorry for your loss, if I may, what happened?’
‘A month after my parents were baptized , she complained of a headache one morning, by the afternoon she was dead.’
I say this without emotion in my voice, I had never allowed myself to deal with Mainini’s death.
‘She was amazing, she would have known how to help me , how to help my parents. She left us too early, it was too early…’ , I trail off.
‘Have you asked God to help with her death? Do you believe he had a perfect plan for that?’
I look at Pastor Ben, wondering if I should tell him…
