Beautiful Ugly Read online

  Beautiful Ugly

  Shelia E. Lipsey

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2011 Shelia E. Lipsey

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To the Fearfully and Wonderfully Made People of the World

  Acknowledgements – To Ugly

  Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly was. Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved three things in this world: fighting, eating garbage, and shall we say, love. The combination of these things combined with a life spent outside had their effect on Ugly.

  To start with, he had only one eye, and where the other should have been was a gaping hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner. His tail had long since been lost, leaving only the smallest stub, which he would constantly jerk and twitch. Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby striped-type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, even his shoulders with thick, yellowing scabs. Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. "That's one ugly cat!"

  All the children were warned not to touch him. The adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, and squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave. Ugly always had the same reaction. If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around your feet in forgiveness. Whenever he spied children, he would come running, meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love. If you ever picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.

  One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbor’s huskies. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. From my apartment I could hear his screams, and I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was lying, it was apparent Ugly's sad life was almost at an end.

  Ugly lay in a wet circle, his back legs and lower back twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran down his front. As I picked him up and tried to carry him home, I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. I must be hurting him terribly, I thought. Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear. Ugly, in so much pain, suffering, and obviously dying was trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned his one golden eye toward me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring.

  Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled-scarred cat was asking only for a little affection; perhaps some compassion. At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, or even try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me, completely trusting in me to relieve his pain. Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterward, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly. Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful.

  He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and deeply. To give my total to those I cared for. All of us would want to be richer, more successful, well liked, or beautiful. But for me, I will always try to be "Ugly" Author Unknown

  To My God be the Glory, Honor and Praise, Shelia E. Lipsey

  Chapter One

  The world is a beautiful place. It's just the people in it that make it ugly.- Rick Thompson

  “It coulda been me, it shoulda been me, it woulda been me...”

  Envy was deep in thought. Why is it that most obese people can hum? I mean they just don’t sing, they seeeng. Is it something with the make-up of their vocal chords or what? Envy listened from the middle row of the church pew at her over 300-pound friend, Layla, her voice so strong it echoed off the walls of the sanctuary like she was singing from a mountaintop. She had a voice that could easily compete with Yolanda Adams’s. Even from the middle pew, Envy could see beads of sweat glistening and dripping down Layla’s face. The church seemed on fire, moved by the Holy Spirit spreading through the choir stand.

  Kacie sat next to Envy on the royal purple pews. Leaning over and whispering in a harsh voice, she chastised her children, Kali, Kendra, Kenny, Kassandra, and Keith, while holding on to nine-month-old Keshena. “Didn’t you hear me? I said sit y’all tails down and be still. I told y’all about acting a fool in church. Now stop it or you know what’s good for you.” Kacie turned toward Envy and mumbled, “I don’t know why they can’t have Children’s Church every Sunday.”

  The five children barely acknowledged their mother’s threats until she hauled off and slapped four-year-old Kali and five-year-old Keith on their legs. Before tears could gush from their faces, she pointed one long, polished fingernail at them.

  “You better not let a single, solitary tear fall,” she demanded of the two kids. Two-year-old Kendra, seven-year-old Kassandra, and ten-year-old Kenny’s eyes widened in fear like they were hoping they wouldn’t be next.

  When Keshena started crying, Envy reached over and quickly removed her from Kacie’s arms. No sense in all of Kacie’s kids keeping up a ruckus. Envy searched in the baby’s diaper pouch until she found her juice bottle, and Keshena immediately grabbed it out of Envy’s hand, placed it in her mouth, and leaned back in the comfort of Envy’s arms.

  “It was mercy and grace,” Layla belted. With upraised arms and bowed down head, Layla started jumping up and down in the choir stand. Envy eyed two teenage boys sitting on the pew in front of her, snickering when Layla suddenly broke out in a Holy Ghost dance. Envy hated to admit it, but it was sort of funny to see Layla in a purple robe, jumping up and down. She reminded her of the purple dinosaur she’d seen Kacie’s kids watching on television from time to time. Just as quick as the less than sympathetic thought invaded her mind, Envy saw the inevitable unfold before her nut brown eyes, enhanced by the designer eyeglasses she wore. Nervously, Envy pushed her frames up on her nose.

  Suddenly, Layla’s humongous legs pointed toward the ceiling at the same time that her backside landed on the purple carpet. Gasps, aahs, and more than a few giggles filled the air while deacons and ushers rushed to Layla’s side.

  Envy’s hand flew up against her mouth while Kacie’s kids pointed and laughed at their ‘Play Aunt Layla’ sprawled in the floor at the front of the choir stand for everyone to get a first class view.

  Kacie popped each of her kids one by one and warned them to shut up. It took several minutes for the church staff to get Layla up on her feet. While they led a limping, disheveled Layla to the choir room, Envy stood and shuffled quickly past Kacie and her kids.

  Rushing to the choir room, Envy halted only seconds, and then bu
rst inside to find Layla crying, probably more from shame and embarrassment than anything else.

  “Layla, girl, are you all right?” Envy asked and knelt down beside Layla. She pushed back several locks of the twists that partially shielded Layla’s blood red face.

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” Layla answered in a whisper.

  “Are you sure? Why don’t you let me take you to the emergency room to get checked out?” Envy offered.

  “No, I said I’m fine,” Layla snarled.

  “Sista Layla, if you need anything, let me know,” one of the ushers told her.

  “Thanks, Sista Jones, but I’m fine. Y’all can go on back in the sanctuary.”

  “Okay, honey. Come on, y’all,” Sista Jones ordered the rest of the ushers who were still gathered in the choir room. “We need to get back to our posts before Pastor starts his message.”

  “I can’t believe I did that,” Layla cried when she and Envy were alone. “My fat tail fell down. I know I musta looked like a giant elephant. How humiliating. I know folks were splitting their sides with laughter. I just know they were.” Layla switched her head back and forth. “Probably out there still laughing and talking about me.” She wiped tears from her eyes.

  “I told you about downing yourself, Layla. People fall down every day. What makes you think it shouldn’t happen to you? Think about Kacie. I bet you don’t hear her feeling sorry for herself because she has cerebral palsy. And she’s fallen way more times than you ever have. And look at me. Kids used to make fun of me because I’m so dark skinned. What I’m saying is that calling yourself names is not going to make things better. How many times have I told you that talking about yourself only makes you feel worse? So what if you’re a little overweight. If you’re tired of it, then do something about it,” Envy lashed out.

  “I’m not going to get into this with you here in the church. You know that I’m more than a little overweight, so don’t try to pretend that I’m not. I already feel stupid enough for being so careless. And just ‘cause you’re a size six doesn’t make me feel better, and whether you’re dark or light has nothing to do with the way people treat you.” Layla wiped the last tear from her round face. “It’s not easy to lose all of this.” She pointed at herself. “It’s hard; downright impossible for me.” Layla stood and moved toward the door. Peeking out to see who was in the hallway, she walked out when she didn’t see anyone. Envy followed. Layla went to the hallway in the same direction Envy had taken earlier. She wasn’t about to go back into the choir stand. Instead, Layla entered the sanctuary and took a seat on the next to the last pew and listened to Pastor Betts’s message.

  “Go on back up there with Kacie. You know she needs help with all of them children,” Layla told Envy.

  Envy agreed and tip-toed back to her seat.

  “Is she all right?” Kacie asked in a whisper when Envy sat down.

  “Yeah, her ego is bruised more than anything.” Envy focused her attention on Pastor Betts.

  When church service ended, Kacie quickly rushed the children along by pushing them one after another into the crowded aisle of people. Envy held Keshena until they all made it to the Fellowship Hall located in the back of the church where muffins, juice, and coffee were prepared for whoever wanted a light snack. Kacie was glad the church provided snacks every Sunday. That way she wouldn’t have to worry about rushing home to cook.

  “Sista Layla, are you all right?” several church members asked while Layla stuffed herself with muffins. She assured them that she was while pretending that her embarrassing fall was nothing major.

  “You know you did your thing this morning, girl,” said another church member.

  “Thank you. That’s one of my favorite songs,” replied a still shaken Layla.

  Envy stood next to Layla, holding Keshena. She fed the baby a pinch of a blueberry muffin.

  Layla pushed the last portion of her third muffin into her mouth, washing it down with a box of Juicy Juice. Scanning the fellowship hall, Layla spied Kacie all up in some man’s face, skinning and grinning while her children ran around unattended, slinging chunks of muffins all over the place and splattering juice.

  “When is she ever going to learn?” asked Layla.

  “No time soon, believe me. But I’m not going to stand here and hold Keshena while she pushes up on some man. My arm already feels like I’ve been holding a piece of lead.” Envy made her way over to Kacie. Without uttering a word, she placed Keshena in Kacie’s arms. Right away Keshena started crying. “Layla and I are about to leave. I guess we’ll check you later.”

  Appearing somewhat embarrassed by Envy’s gesture, and her baby’s crying, Kacie waved Envy off. “No problem. I’ll talk to y’all later.” Then she turned and continued flirting while Envy and Layla made their exit.

  Layla and Envy continued their conversation while Layla squeezed inside of Envy’s champagne Saturn VUE.

  “I don’t understand Kacie. The only real reason she comes to church is to look for a man; anybody’s man at that. She ought to have enough,” said Layla.

  Envy readily agreed. “I know that’s right. She’s thirty years old and already has six children and five or six baby daddies. She needs to be anointed with a well full of blessed oil.” Envy and Layla laughed as Envy started the car and maneuvered between the other cars leaving from the parking lot. “You need to stop anywhere before I take you home?”

  Layla nodded. “Yeah, I want to go by Church’s Chicken and get a three piece meal. I want to get something to eat, then go home and soak this body of mine in a hot tub of water before I get stiff from that fall. Plus it’s supposed to storm later on this afternoon, so I don’t plan on getting back out.”

  “It’s getting cloudy already,” Envy observed.

  During the drive, Envy and Layla talked about the morning worship service and how much they loved Pastor Betts’s preaching. It didn’t take long for Church’s Chicken to fill Layla’s order, and less than half an hour after leaving church, Envy drove into the main entrance of her friend’s newly renovated uptown housing development. After several turns, she arrived in front of Layla’s apartment.

  “I guess I’ll talk to you later. I might go over to my sister’s house and chill for a while,” said Envy.

  ”I don’t know why you want to do that. You’re the one who’s always talking about how Nikkei constantly rides you about the fact that your mother lives with her and her husband.”

  “That’s right,” Envy said like she suddenly remembered how much Nikkei bickered. “But why shouldn’t Mother live with them? Nikkei has plenty of room. She acts like Mother’s dementia is easy for me, but it’s not.”

  “I know that. And your mother is so young to have dementia. I’m thankful that my parents are in good health,” Layla told Envy. “I know you want to see your mother, but seeing her today means dealing with Nikkei. Think about it.” Layla looked at Envy in silence.

  “I will,” answered Envy.

  Layla adjusted her short, obese body by moving one way and then the other. Getting out of Envy’s car was always easier than getting in. After a few seconds, she stood erect, pulled her blue dress out of her butt with one hand, and grabbed her chicken dinner with the other.

  “Bye,” said Layla as she turned and walked toward her apartment.

  “See ya.” Envy waited until Layla was at her front door before she sped away.

  After replaying Layla’s comments about Nikkei, Envy changed her mind about going to see her mother as soon as she left out of the gate of Layla’s apartment. She turned up her radio and sang along. When she pulled up directly in front of her two bedroom downtown Memphis duplex, Envy parked and turned off the ignition. She sat quietly with her hands gripping the vinyl steering wheel cover and her head resting on them, thinking about how glad she was that she had changed her mind about going over to Nikkei’s. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, hoping that the frustration mounting inside of her would not overflow this time. No such luck. She question
ed God like she’d done many times before.

  “I know I’ve asked you this before, Lord. But like always, you never give me an answer, at least not one except what my mother told me. Why did my mother have to name me, Envy? What was going through her mind? Was she demented then? Why did she place this obvious curse on me? I’m sick of hearing that she thought it was a cute name. That’s a bunch of bologna. I know it and you know it.” Envy balled her hands into fists and pounded the sides of them against the steering wheel until they turned cherry red.

  “I can’t get up for going down. I can’t take a step forward without taking ten steps backward. I look at other people, including my sister, and I just don’t understand. She has a beautiful home, a great job,” with emphasis she added, “and a husband with a good job who simply adores her. But look at me. Here I am still struggling, still groveling, still wishing and hoping that things were right in my life. So what if I make good money? Where has it gotten me? I have no man, no real life. So tell me, what’s the difference in me and Nikkei? It has to be my name. Envy. Let’s see if I can remember what the dictionary has to say about it.”

  Envy’s anger toward God mounted with each word that spewed from her mouth. “Ahh,” she spoke out, her words laced with venom. “Envy, the verb form, means to feel envy toward or on account of,” she said from memory, having read the definition numerous times. “Surely that’s not me. Maybe it’s the other definition. You know, God. I’m talking about envy, the noun: painful or resentful awareness of another’s advantages. Ah-ha, now maybe that’s me. But why should I be condemned for being resentful and in pain? I don’t understand why you don’t allow me to have one good opportunity, a real chance at having good things happen in my life. Everything that’s good flies right past me and into somebody else’s lap.