Chapter 41
I’ll Be There
“Ma’am, can I speak with you as soon as class is over? I got permission from my teacher to come to class late. Here’s the note.”
No. My mind is screaming, no.
“Marcus, speaking to students alone has been awkward for me.
Can we step out in the hall now?”
“Ma’am, it’s personal.
I’ve got something to share with you.”
“Marcus, things have been going really well.”
“Ma’am, it’s not about school. Please?”
The bell rang.
I’m out of stalling time.
“Okay,” I said, as my common sense kicked at my heart.
The kids all left the classroom, staring at us but trying not to look.
I’ve been here before and didn’t like the feeling.
“Ma’am, this is going to take a minute. Can we sit down? Please.”
In for a penny.
I pulled the big boy chair up next to my desk, and I sat behind it so the corner of the desk was between us.
I leaned into his words.
“Ma’am. I want to share something with you, and it means something to me.”
“Marcus. Things are fine between us.”
“No, it’s not about that fight earlier this year.
Well, I don’t think it is.
But no.
It’s not.
Just let me start over.”
“I don’t have anyone who understands but I know you will.
You had that baby you lost—you named her Parker.
I remember you telling us about her.”
This is a direction I wasn’t expecting.
I folded my hands above the desk.
“Yes, science class.”
“Yes, Ma’am.
You probably didn’t think anyone was listening but I was.
You told us that when you lost your baby.
The doctors asked what you wanted to do with her body.
Your choices were to donate her to science, bury her or let them cremate the body.
I remember you said you gave her to Parkinson’s research.”
He is right. Stem cell research.
“The guys started cutting up about it.
They said that they would have sold their uncle or grandpa if they had known.
Well, they turned it all into a joke.
They don’t know how to handle things like that.
They are just kids still. I get why they were acting that way.”
“Sometimes, it is easier to make light of a heavy subject.”
“Yes, that’s what they were doing.
I didn’t tell them any different.
I was acting just like them, but I was also listening to what you said.
I wanted to let you know, today, your words made a difference to me.
Your daughter’s story mattered to me.”
That’s more words than I heard out of him all year.
He’s crying now.
I glanced at the phone on my desk.
“See, the girl that Alec and I were fighting over—she had my baby.”
He took a defensive posture.
“I know it was my baby. You see, she was black like me. She looked just like me.
Well, my girlfriend had our baby. I got to hold her and love her.
Then, after three days, she just died.
No one knows why.
They said they ran tests.
There just aren’t any answers.”
My heart went to my stomach.
I couldn’t breathe.
“No parent should have to outlive their child.”
Now I’m crying.
I can’t remember the last time I cried.
“Yes ma’am.
It’s hard, but it could have been a lot worse, and I wanted you to know it.
You see, what you said made a difference to me.
The people at the hospital came to me.
They told me she was dead.
They turned right around and started asking what I wanted done with the body.”
He wasn’t hiding his tears.
I was wiping mine with the back of my hand.
“They started saying the same words you told us they would say.”
He stopped, gathering his thoughts.
“Normally, the way I was feeling, I would have started hitting someone.
I would have gone to jail.
But your words came back to me.
I know how your daughter is helping people with that disease find a cure.
I just couldn’t do that to my baby girl.”
I handed him a tissue.
“The funeral is Friday.
It is during school, so you’d have to ask off.
I understand that you’d have to check with your husband, but I want you there.”
His eyes were empty.
“I don’t have anyone who understands what I’m going through.”
He continued talking.
“My friends are telling me I dodged a bullet, with child support payments.
I know they don’t mean it that way, they don’t mean to hurt me.
But I need someone there that knows what I’m going through.”
This is Tuesday.
The decision came quickly.
“I’ll be there, Marcus.”
Daniel's Den 