Christy stifled a laugh.
“Oh my gosh!” Nisha exclaimed. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right, and I can’t believe I forgot about that.”
Nisha’s voice floated through the speakerphone as she recited the poem she’d created to describe the name given to someone who was considered an Owanu.
“Hateful and mean, you have no kindness. No heart in your chest is what causes your blindness. You pinch, and you push, you punch and you shove. You will never have an Owani to love.” A beat passed, and she added, “I wrote it to describe a boy named Albert. He used to pick on me before Anthony showed up.”
“Anthony saved you?” Christy asked.
“No,” Anthony interjected. “I didn’t save her. She saved herself that day.”
“Not a bad poem for an eight-year-old,” Nisha added. Her tone sounded lighter as she remembered the happiness Anthony had brought into her life. Remembering the fact that he used to endure the silly game for her sake caused her heart to swell.
“You were always the smartest kid in the class,” he told her. The pride in his voice was easily detected. Anthony could feel his sister’s smile through the phone.
“So, what does Owani mean?” Christy interrupted.
“It means cherished one. Prized above all else.” Nisha’s voice held a dreamy quality.
As if not hearing his sister, and without taking his eyes off Christy, Anthony recited another poem.
“Two hearts connected by strands of gold. My heart you will always hold. Safe by my side, you will always be. My forever love, you belong to me.” He reached for Christy’s hand and brought it to his lips. “Again, not bad for an eight-year-old.” He smiled.
Christy smiled back at him.
Later, Nisha lay in bed and stared at her ceiling. Sleep wouldn’t come as she tried to evaluate why she’d called Alexander an Owani that day. Had she really forgotten its true meaning or was there something in her subconscious that knew he was special? She flipped over onto her stomach and pulled her pillow down tight around her head. No, she told herself. Alexander is someone I care about, but he’s facing life in prison. He can’t be my Owani. That’s not the life I want. I refuse to fall in love with a man I could never be with. She let out a long sigh, and thought, It’s too late, you fool. You’re already in love with him.
As sleep finally began to take hold, her last conscious thought is what consoled her confused and tormented mind.
If Alexander did hear me that day, I’m just grateful he’ll never know what Owani really means.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Naples, Florida 1981
Despite the devastating outcome of Alexander’s trial, life went on, and Nisha continued to file appeals and dig for evidence that would hopefully reverse the verdict and repeal his life sentence without parole. She’d hired a legal team whose sole purpose was to get Alexander out of prison. A legal team that Anthony and Christy gladly and willingly financed.
In the meantime, Anthony continued running his landscaping and other businesses as well as managing his crew at the camp. He continued to oversee the automobiles that were being transported over the Alley for export, always keeping a cautious eye out for the future technology that would bring a halt to his endeavor. Christy stayed busy with making sure the women who regularly visited the camp were receiving proper healthcare as well as mental wellness checks. Word had gotten around about her charitable concern for the women, and some were showing up just to receive free healthcare at the expense of letting some of the men use them for sex. When Christy realized what was happening she turned her efforts to financing a clinic that was separate from the camp. That way, the women who wanted to be at the camp could be there, and the ones who were only showing up for help would have another place to turn to.
Anthony now stood in the sunroom and glanced out at his backyard. He took a sip of coffee as the morning sun cast bright beams of light through the windows. Dust motes were floating through the air, giving the room a spectral quality. He smiled when he caught sight of Christy’s most recent charity case: Crook.
Christy had been standing in line at the grocery store when she overheard an elderly couple talking about what to do with one of their goats. Apparently, he’d gotten his head stuck in a fence when he was a baby, and it caused permanent damage. Because he was different, he’d become a target in their small barnyard. The other goats bullied him, not letting him get to the food. So, he had to be kept and cared for separately and it was becoming increasingly difficult due to the couple’s age. When Christy heard about the lonely goat, she followed the man and woman to their house.
Anthony laughed aloud when he remembered how he’d been working in his shop when she pulled up, a goat with a crooked neck riding shotgun in her Volkswagen. Crook was now living the high life in their expansive backyard and enjoying his days with the female companion Christy insisted on getting him. Crook and Esmeralda had become inseparable but hadn’t shown any signs of dishing up any baby goats.
Kind of like us, Anthony thought to himself. Their life lacked for nothing. They were as perfectly matched as a mismatched couple could be. A child would only make it more perfect. It hadn’t been for lack of trying. It had been over two years and still every month, like clockwork, Christy got her period. He knew that Christy was capable of getting pregnant. Last year, it occurred to him that perhaps he was the problem. His male pride hadn’t allowed him to take the necessary steps to see if it was true. But maybe it was time to face some facts. I’ll see a doctor, he finally told himself. I’ll have some tests done.
His coffee finished, Anthony had another important matter to attend to. Due to zoning restrictions in the beginning, Abby’s park had been temporarily put on hold. Eight months ago, the green light had been given, and Christy had thrown herself into having the park finished. She was now planning the grand opening and dedication ceremony and couldn’t hide her disappointment that Litzy wouldn’t be there. She wouldn’t want her brother, Richard, there; and Nadine, who was now pregnant with her third child, wouldn’t be able to make the trip and didn’t want to be away from her family. Especially since it was so close to Thanksgiving.