Naomi Taylor

The Weight of Secrets

    This Sunday morning, Naomi peered down and rubbed her stomach. It was just slightly poking out through the green jacket she decided to wear to Sunday school. She wasn't showing much yet.     

  “Thank you, God,’ she whispered to herself. She shuttered at the thought of Moma’s disappointment when she finds out. Moma had always warned her about boys, about making mistakes too young.  She couldn’t shake the feeling of heaviness pressing down on her chest, a constant reminder of the secret she was keeping buried.     

    At 16, Naomi was the kind of quiet girl who could disappear into a crowd, not because she wanted to, but because she didn’t know how to stand out. But Herbert paid attention to her and made her feel like the prettiest girl in the whole church. But how could she even get caught up with him?  Naomi hated herself for being so naive.   She never meant for it to happen.  Herbert had told her she was pretty and wanted to show her how to feel like a woman. At first, she said no and told him they shouldn’t. But he persisted.  He even told her to relax, that it would be over fast. She trusted him. She believed that it was her fault. ”I should have fought back harder,” she said aloud.  

    Naomi felt ashamed for not telling her best friend Ethelreen about the baby.  They both talk about joining the Army and becoming ‘women that took care of themselves’.  Naomi started to feel sick to her stomach at the thought of letting down her best friend. She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking slightly as if that would make the guilt go away.   

     As she paused to settle herself, she felt the baby moving around inside her growing belly. Her thoughts turned to Lydia Thomas, who had everything she lacked.  Lydia’s voice, her presence and her spirit had been a shield for Naomi that day the Deacon cornered her in the lady's room. She wanted, more than anything, to be courageous like Lydia... and stand up for herself.    

   Begrudgingly, she remembered that very day:     

   “How ya doing little girl?” the Deacon said, as he slipped into the lady's bathroom as Naomi walked in.  “You shol’ look nice today."    

   Naomi froze as if she was a baby dear being hunted by a grown lion. She looked at the Deacon with a child-like fear that paralyzed her. He tried hurriedly to close the door behind him. But, before he could find the lock, Lydia pushed the door in.        

   “Whatcha snake-ass doing in the lady's bathroom?” she asked already knowing the answer.  “You should be looking for the men's bathroom, shouldn’t ya Deacon?” She adjusted her hat over her eye and checked her makeup in the mirror that hung behind a fearful Naomi.      

   “Unless me and your wife should have a little talk about Curtis."  Lydia had snapped, her voice sharp, as if she were a queen giving a command. Naomi stood motionless. Afraid to say a word. Allowing Lydia to do all the talking for her.     

   ” Seems to me, Naomi don’t have no likes to you at all.  Not a dirty old man like yourself. You need to be on ya way!” She instructed as she held the door open for him, ushering him out. 

   Naomi was shocked that a woman could talk to a man like that. Command that he respect her and obey her. From that day, she knew she’d want to be like Lydia. She thought, the hat must have held superpowers, recalling how Lydia repositioned it as she reprimanded the 'Snake Ass Deacon".  If so, maybe it could help her to protect herself.  Then Herbert and the Deacon couldn’t hurt her.  She decided to start wearing her own hats that day.     

    Naomi took a deep breath and returned back to the reality at hand... her growing belly.  At 16, she wasn’t ready for this.  But she had no choice. The future, uncertain and daunting, waited for her just outside. And she would have to face it, no matter how scared she was. She adjusted her hat, just like Lydia did, and walked toward the door.