Dysfunctional Family - Season 1 - Episode 35

4 years ago

Dysfunctional Family - Season 1 - Episode 35

.
.
.
.
.
~TRACY~
I fell pregnant at the age of 15. That wasn’t my intention but it happened anyway. I was staying with my Dad, cousin Laura and Dad’s mistress who occasionally stayed over at our place so basically it was just my defence attorney of a father, cousin and I at home.
People would have gauged Laura to be the one to fall pregnant at such a young age but me? No. I too was devastated by the outcome of a one night of bliss. Did I just say bliss? To hell! I loved Lubesha Pondamali with all my heart and that night had meant everything to me. And please don’t you go judging nor questioning what I knew about love at such a tender age..All you ought to know is I knew I loved Lubesha and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.
It was two days prior to the beginning of my final year in high school when I woke up feeling all weak and sick. I was pale and was excessively throwing up. “Are you pregnant?” Laura confronted me.
I was agitated so I rudely told her to mind her own business.
She shrugged. “Cause I can help you if you’re ka.”

“Laura!”
Thanks to her big fat mouth, Dad caught wind of my not feeling well and thanks to his paranoia when it came to Laura’s and my health, he rushed me to the hospital where the doctor told him I was pregnant.
Dad gave me one long look then said to the doctor, “Thank you.”
The drive home was awkwardly silent and not liking the aura around, I said, “Dad, I’m sorry.”
He didn’t respond as he completely ignored me, making his silence dig a hollow hole in my heart. I knew he was mad and had every right to be. All he had done all these years was take care of Laura and I as best he could that I didn’t even feel the absence of my mother who had died when I was still an infant, leaving me a bracelet as a reminder of her. And this is how I repaid Dad? By falling pregnant?
I was just as disappointed as he looked.
When we got home, Dad led me to his room where we both sat on the bed.
“Who’s the father, Tracy?”
I knew better than to lie to a defence attorney who dealt with pathological liars and sociopaths almost everyday. “It’s Lubesha, a fellow grade 12. I love him, Dad.”
“Will you shut the hell up!” he almost smacked my face and I gasped. Dad withdrew his hand and took a deep breath. “What do you know about love, huh Tracy Fulilwa?”
I was shaking. Nobody liked Dad when he was angry.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated.
“You better be, young girl. And listen to me carefully, you and that Lubesha boy or whatever his stupid name is will get punished for this but as for you, count yourself out of that school until you deliver and let me warn you, should the boy catch wind of your pregnancy, there will be dire consequences. I’ll bring hell on earth upon him!”
“But Dad, he’s the father.”
“Whom I assume has no job to his name, right? Just shut the hell up and do as I say before I change my mind and get you to abort that b-----d you’re carrying. Now get the heck outta my room!”
I stood, my invisible tail between my legs and headed for the door.
“And oh,” Dad added. “Tell Laura I wanna see her.”
“Okay.”

Me being suspended when I went back to school didn’t come as a shock to me seeing as I already knew that was my father’s doing. The hard part though was me looking Lubesha in the eye, seeing the love he felt for me imprinted in them and yet I was unable to tell him I was carrying his child. And me even having the audacity to accuse him of ratting us out to his friend.
I delivered a baby boy eight months later and went back to school to write my final exams a month later. I ignored Lubesha once more even though my heart and conscience were constantly beating me up to tell him everything.

When results came out the next year and I found out I’d done exceptionally well, Dad informed me he was sending me to the United States of America in July and I’d begin class at an expensive college in August.
“And Junior? Who’ll take care of him while am gone, Dad?”
“I’ve got that covered, sweetheart. I love my grandson as much as I love you and Laura so don’t you worry about anything. You’re a single mother, yes, but that don’t mean you should throw your future away for your kid. You need to further your studies so that you can be able to take care of Junior without having to look up to anyone.”
Dad was right. He loved my son very much and despite the fact that I dreaded the idea of going overseas and leaving my son, I had to better my future. I did think about Lubesha often but thought he was probably better off without me. Me keeping his son away from him was wrong but it was too late now.
In July, I flew to the U.S to study Business Administration.
6 years down the line, I’d graduated and was working as a Secretary at a fancy and legit law firm in Miami, Florida. Yes, I’d decided to settle in the U.S.
Dad was arranging some papers for Lubesha Junior to come stay with me in America soon. I did miss my whole family in spite of the fact that no day passed without me seeing their faces graced on my computer screen. Laura made sure I was abreast of all their affairs back in Zambia. For example, she and Sylvester were planning to get married soon.
I went for their wedding seven months later and savoured spending time with my son.
“Why don’t you want to come stay with us, mum?” Junior asked me as I was tacking him into bed one night.
“Because I have work in America, sonny. But don’t you wanna come stay with me?”
“And leave grandpa and aunt Laura?”
I was hesitant. “Um..yes.”
He too was hesitant now. “I’ll think about it.”

He was too attached to his grandpa and aunt. Even more attached to them than he was to me.

And then out of the blues, he asked, “How come nobody ever talks about my father? Is he dead, mum?”
“No!” I was a little stern. “Sorry for my tone..I didn’t mean to sound upset.”
“It’s fine. Is he a bad man?”
“No he’s not, Lubesha Fulilwa. Let’s just say it’s complicated. I’ll explain when you grow up.”
“Grandpa and aunt tell me the same thing.”

☆☆☆
I went back to America a few days later where I met my nightmare.
My friend from college Caroline was having a birthday party and lots of people attended seeing as she was quite popular. I was seated alone by the bar, sipping on a martini when a strikingly handsome man sat beside me.
“Anybody seated here?”
“Why bother asking when you’re already seated there?”
“That’s dumb of me, I’m sorry,” his accent was charming. “Can I buy you a drink?”
People bought me drinks all the time so I accepted.
“I’m Jake Millstone,” he introduced himself, extending his hand which I hesitantly shook.
“Tracy Fulilwa,” I blushed.
I wasn’t really into white hunks but Jake was a funny guy who was only three years my senior, a successful defence attorney like my father, and I adored his sense of humour.
We exchanged lines and got talking everyday when we had time to.
“You and Jake a thing now?” Caroline asked me.
She had come over to my apartment and we were watching Scandal.
“Yeah.. why the question?”
“You make a great couple,” the brunette said with a careless shrug.
A year down the line, things had gotten heated between us and Jake randomly proposed. It hadn’t been a proposal from fairytales as he’d just knelt before me in a coffee shop with lots of people staring and he proposed.
I so wanted to say yes but couldn’t do so without telling him something I hadn’t told him in the past year.
“I love you, Jake,” at least that’s what I told myself. “And would love to be your wife but-”
“But what, Tracy? People are staring.”
“I know…I have a 7-year-old son!”
Jake stood and quizzically stared at me. “Why did you keep this a secret from me?”
“I wanted to tell you, trust me. Anyway, I’ve told you now. Do you still wanna marry me?”
“Of course,” he knelt and offered me the ring which I let him slip on my finger.
People applauded as Jake and I shared a kiss.
“We’ve got things to discuss by the way,” he whispered. “Cause am mad at you.”
We talked the issue through and Jake seemed to be cool with me having a son so we had ourselves a June wedding the next year. June being America’s summer.
I was elated to have my father, Laura, Sylvester and my son attend my wedding. That meant the world to me.
Junior remained with me after the wedding and the three of us begun staying together. Jake’s family wanted to have nothing to do with me as they were racists but that didn’t matter. What mattered was Jake wasn’t.
Well, Jake seemed initially kind towards Junior but all that changed when I fell pregnant and bore a son whom Jake named after his maternal grandfather, Rafael. At first I ignored how Jake sidelined Junior since the birth of Rafael until a year later when Jake finally decided to give me a piece of his mind.
“I want your son to go back to Zambia.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yes, Tracy, you heard correctly.”
“In what world do I send away my son, Jake?”
“In the world you’re living in. Look, I want us to be a family. You, Rafael and I.”
“You’re sick in the head, I hope you know that.”
I spent the night in Junior’s room with him and Rafael.

I got to know how twisted in Jake’s mind was when he started physically abusing both Junior and I. Wanting my independence, I immediately filed for divorce.
Jake laughed in my face and tore the papers. “You’re in America, b---h. And you also an immigrant so don’t think you’ll win this case. If you go ahead with divorcing me, I’ll make sure I gain full custody of Rafael and then see to it that you and your b-----d son are deported back to your pathetic country.”
I had been too blind in the beginning to notice Jake had traces of racism in him which were now manifesting a few years into our marriage.
Junior was twelve when I decided I’d send him back to Zambia and remain in America to figure out how to rid myself of Jake.
Well, I’d called the plug quite too late as Jake came home intoxicated one night and went to Junior’s room. Thinking it was Junior under the sheets, he fired several gunshots at them sheets, killing Rafael who was actually under the sheets while Junior was in the shower preparing for bed. For some reason, Rafeal had insisted to spend the night in his brother’s room.
I had been in the kitchen when I heard the gunshots and I rushed to Junior’s room just to find Jake holding a pistol in his hands.
Everything after that happened so fast. I was rushing to Rafael who was dead.. Jake lost it and turned himself in once he realised he’d murdered his own son… Rafael was cremated a few days later, as per my request and I put his ashes in an urn.
Now let me pause to tell you all how no pain in this world can be measured to the pain of losing a loved one. The pain is so intense it leaves you scarred for life.
I later divorced Jake who was given a death penalty. A few months after Jake’s persecution, Junior and I went back to Zambia to start our lives afresh just for me to see his father on the news. He was marrying a minister’s daughter and I knew it was now or never.

☆☆☆
THE WEDDING DAY.

In the Pastor’s office, Lubesha warily said, “Sandra, Enoch, I am so sorry but I can’t go through with this wedding.”
“You’re joking, right?” said Sandra, she was in shock.
“This is for all of us,” Lubesha pressed. “For our good. Or would you rather you and I end up like Tracy and Jake did cause honestly I don’t love you, Sandra. I am so sorry. It’s Tracy that I love and wanna spend the rest of my life with her.”
“How dare you?” an angry Enoch sprang to his feet but Sandra held his hand and shook her head in disapproval.
“It’s fine,” she said, standing up too and wiping her tears. “Lubesha has made his decision and we can’t force him.” she then scornfully glared from Lubesha to I and back. “You’ll dearly pay for this, both of you. I swear on my late mother’s grave you two will regret ever crossing paths with me!”
The way she ominously said it sent chills down my spine.