She Who Has Found Herself

Content Warning: Domestic Violence

Jonita rushed up the walkway as quickly as she could manage with the chaotic collection of plastic bags that she toted in both hands. She got to the front door of her home and struggled to put some of the bags down so that she could locate her keys in the labyrinth that was her handbag.

She finally got her keys, located the one for the front door and tried without success to get it into the keyhole. Her hands were shaking. Shaking from the strain of holding so many heavy bags, but also because she was terrified. Mason would be home soon.

Okay Jon-Jon, take ah deep breath. Stop being so coward. She inhaled deeply to gather her nerves. She unlocked the door, her hand still shaking slightly, pushed it inward and picked up all the bags. She left the door open and made a mad rush through the short hallway, towards the kitchen. She dropped her bags in surprise, startled to see Mason sitting in the living room as she was passing through it to the kitchen.

He didn’t wait for her to gather her wits. He stood up swiftly and took a few steps toward her. Out of habit, she took a few uneasy steps back. She could see the vein pulsing at his temple and knew she was in for it.

“Way you been so long?” His voice was shaking, he was so angry.

“Supermarket. I got the things you ask me to get. I bounce up on Trisha and was just ol’ talking

for a little—

The slap she received across the face prevented her from finishing what she was saying. She hadn’t expected it to come so soon, so it caught her off guard, making her stumble backwards. Her vision blurred and she felt her cheeks get wet.

“You know I coming home hungry, and you down de road wasting time with Trish? The same love-ah-man Trish I tell you keep from?” She opened her mouth to defend Trish and thought better of it, for her cheek was still throbbing from the last humiliating blow. She looked away into the far corner of her yellow and brown-decorated living room and let him shout his usual barrage of insults and expletives at her. She was used to it.

He finally set her free to skulk to the kitchen to prepare dinner. She stood at the kitchen sink and thought about the state of her life. How had she come to this? When they had first met, he had presented such a dream to her. He was reliable and kind, loving and romantic. Then he moved in and all that gradually went out the window.

She never expected that she could end up in a relationship like this one; never thought she’d be weak enough to even stay in one. Well, not weak. She had tried more than once to get away from him. The first time he’d hit her, she’d taken a few things and had gone to Trish’s house. She hadn’t called the police because it was the first time it had ever happened and she hadn’t wanted him to get into trouble. He came to Trish’s house, face covered in tears and snot and begged her to come home. He’d never meant to hurt her. His love for her made him a little crazy, is all. The next time, she called the police, and that went nowhere because apparently the police do not get involved in domestic disputes. He’d blooded her nose when they left, for daring to call them on him.

She had no one to turn to for help. She started saving up an emergency fund so that she could go away. One day she came home to find him waiting for her with the bag of money in his hand. He’d found it the corner of her closet while he was rummaging around for proof that she was cheating on him. His rage had been palpable.

“This is the money you saving to run off with your man?” His voice had shaken with disgust and fury. That beating had put her in the hospital. There was no end to what she had suffered through this devil of a man. Miscarriages and abortions were at the top of the list, but in the end, those were for the best; she wanted no permanent ties to him.

She soon heard his snores coming from the living room. She cooked and cleaned up as quietly as she could. She wanted to go for a walk and if he woke up now, she’d catch her tail to get out of the house. She closed the front door with as much deftness as she could muster. Her brisk steps took her down to the seaside a few minutes away from her house. She kept walking along the shore until she came to its end. She then climbed up on the rocks there, all the way around until she came to a narrow dirt path on the other side of the bay. She followed it until she met the sand of a little enclosed inlet. A solitary almond tree spread its great boughs where it stood close to a wall of craggy rocks that formed a cliff side above. Other little plants grew around it and spread out at the back of it, into a deep, wooded area. It was already getting dark and it would soon be difficult for her to find her way back. But she figured that she wasn’t going to need to find her way home…

She sat under the tree for a moment, gathering the courage for what she felt was her last chance at getting away from Mason. She finally got up and walked towards the tranquil sea before her. She didn’t even care that her sneakers or anything else was getting wet. She didn’t want to be found naked. The freezing water was already up to her bosom when she heard an authoritative voice bark at her.

“What you think you doing?”

She was so startled that she went under in her hurry to turn towards the voice. She spluttered to the surface, shivering, and spun around looking for the voice. She had assumed that she was alone; people hardly ever came here. When she saw the source of the voice, she was sure she had already died. Sitting straight-backed on a cluster of smooth rocks, not too far from Jonita, was a breadnut-brown woman with a sprawling afro enclosed in a circle of plaits decorated with iridescent shells at the base, and a lush body with a waist that curved into…the beginning of a shimmering blue fish tail. Jonita stared at the creature before her, all her previous woes shocked out of her. The being stared right back at her. She finally broke the silence.

“I am Yemaya. I have answered the question in your head. Now tell me why you are here.”

Jonita continued to stare at her silently. “All right. You are surprised. Many of you have forgotten about your ancestors. You will know more later, my daughter.” She slipped from the rocks gracefully and disappeared. Jonita turned towards the shore and tried to scramble quickly to land. Yemaya came up abruptly before her. The tail was gone. She towered above a cowering Jonita. She bent down suddenly and scooped her up, taking her to the shore where she placed her carefully on the sand. She sat cross-legged before the quaking woman and waited.

Jonita started to sob, the entire situation suddenly too much for her to bear. The unbelievable vision before her let her cry in peace. She finally ceased her sniffling and looked at Yemaya. She took a deep breath and finally lay down her burdens. Yemaya listened carefully and her smooth face crinkled in displeasure. When Jonita finished her tale, Yemaya took her hands in hers gently. Jonita eyed her suspiciously, but allowed the moment of comfort.

“For centuries women have had to bare every pain and indignity imaginable. People have forgotten that they came from us. They have forgotten that we hold much power. Sometimes humans need to be reminded of such things. You must do this every chance you get, young one. You were about to do something so terrible to yourself thinking it was the only way for you to escape. And what of this wretch who sleeps in your bed? He would probably have taken your house and all you have worked for, then moved on to destroy some other innocent woman’s life. You do not let the wicked ones win so easily.”

She squeezed Jonita’s hands in hers, forcing her to crane her neck to look into her eyes. “You have come from a long line of amazing women. You must use their power to strengthen yourself, always.”

Jonita removed one of her hands from Yemaya’s clasp to wipe her nose. “But I don’t know how to do that. How are they going to help me if they are no longer here?” She tried to return her hand to Yemaya’s, but she furrowed her face and put both her hands back in her own lap. “We are never supposed to interfere too much in mortal issues, but it is never easy to see the powerless, especially daughters, suffer at the hands of the powerful. I can guide you a little. Take this and you will be able to do what you need to.”

She opened her hands to reveal an oval, bronze-hued amulet with a rambling tree carved in the centre of it. There were tiny etches of stick women around the edges. Yemaya placed it in jonita’s hands, leaned in and kissed her forehead.

Jonita blinked rapidly when her eyes opened to darkness. A moment of trepidation ran through her, as she suddenly remembered her bizarre encounter. The terror passed as Mason’s familiar thunderous snores rang in her ears. It had to have been a dream. How else would she have ended up here in bed? With her confusion came a wave of disappointment. She was still here, in bed with her tormentor. Tears welled up in her eyes. A sudden awareness of a heaviness against her chest distracted her from her sadness. She reached up and felt the solidity of the amulet that Yemaya had given to her. Her heart began to race, and she felt a pounding sensation in her ears.

Disbelief once again consumed her. This realization shook her to her core, for it would change her entire life. There was so much, she

could see now, that she did not know, that no one could possibly know. She remembered everything Yemaya had told her. At this very moment, she could have been dead, leaving Mason here to live his best life while she became fish food. She felt a spark of anger. The dog could have gotten her home—the most important thing her mother had given her before her passing. He would have brought same poor woman here to suffer the same fate. Her anger bubbled. She looked at Mason sleeping so peacefully and her anger spilled over.

How could he beat her the way he did and always sleep so restfully? He was a beast. She lay her rage across his face in a slap so forceful, he jumped out of his slumber with a shout. He turned on the bedside lamp and looked to Jonita, touching his stinging face. “Get out of my house,” Jonita’s whispered. Mason blinked stupidly for a few seconds. “What?”

Jonita got out of bed and faced him. “I said to get out of my house.”

Mason touched his face. “You hit me?”

“Yes. Get out of my house.”

Mason’s face clouded. She knew that look, but she felt the weight of the amulet and for once wasn’t afraid.

“You put your hand in my face, girl?”

“Me. Say. Get. Out. Ah. My. House,” Jonita emphasized each word with a fist to her chest.

Mason charged toward her, ready to beat her into submission as was his custom. Jonita waited until he was a little closer to her. She dealt him a hefty kick to the groin. Mason doubled over in agony.

“You cunt!” He screamed at her, as she skittered past him.

She flew to the kitchen, switched on the light and grabbed a large kitchen knife. He came stumbling out of the bedroom. She stood before the sink waiting for him.

“I putting up with your shit for too long now, Mason. Yuh bigger than me, but even if you try kill me tonight, you going dead too.”

Mason straightened up as much as he could. She could see the disbelief in his handsome face. The face that hid the ugliness inside him.

He saw a slight wildness in her eyes and felt a moment’s hesitation. He was too used to winning, however, and charged at her, ignoring the pain still pulsing between his legs. Jonita took a jab at his stomach. He jumped back in horror and looked down at is belly. A thin line of red hovered just above his navel.

“GET OUT!” Jonita screamed like a pastor exorcising a demon. She lunged at him. Mason didn’t even think about defending himself. He turned and headed for the door. Jonita took up a heavy skillet from the wares drainer. He hadn’t even put away the dishes. He never did, the lazy bastard. She threw it at his retreating back. It caught him square in the centre and he screamed shrilly, thinking she had thrown the knife. He threw himself at the door and scrambled to unlock it. He turned and saw her bending to pick up the skillet.

“Jonita, wait!” He bellowed in desperation. The door banged open just as Jonita took a mighty swing at his head. He tumbled outside and scrambled to his feet. He didn’t look back. He sprinted down the road barefooted, in his boxers, not caring about the bits of loose gravel that stabbed at his soles.

Jonita shut and locked the door quickly. She put her back against it and slid down to the floor where she crumpled into an exhausted heap. She panted heavily. He was out. She couldn’t believe it. She suddenly had the deepest urge to cry, from no emotion in particular. She was incredibly drained. She closed her eyes to catch her breath and rest. Sunlight pricked Jonita’s face. She opened her eyes groggily and blinked furiously against the light that spilled through the living room window that faced her garden. She straightened up and felt achy all over. She had fallen asleep origami style, at the foot of her front door.

She remembered the events of last night. The house was quiet. She was consumed by a great sense of peace, like a bad spirit had been removed from her home—from her soul. She remembered the amulet and her hand flew to her chest. Nothing was there. She looked and felt around on the floor space around her. She ran her hand under her outstretched leg and grasped an oval shaped something. A gasp escaped her as she brought it into her line of vision. In her hand, was a smooth gray pebble.