The Sperm Dealer by Tracy Divine & Generation Next

Author:Tracy Divine & Generation Next [DIVINE, TRACY & Next, Generation]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, United States, African American, Women's Fiction
Amazon: B00NJUJWZ2
Publisher: GENERATION NEXT
Published: 2014-10-17T04:00:00+00:00

PART 5

DEVILS WITH ANGELIC FACES

I’m backstage at Emily’s show looking in the oversized mirror and noticing what a fractured woman I’ve become. I used to be so energetic and full of life and now the force of God has been drained from my body. These people and their Christ – like expectations make me ill. I can’t stand how they sit pointing with one hand and sinning with the other. Something as beautiful as helping a woman be a mother has been tainted by close minded people’s need to play God. Lucifer is alive and well. He’s turning me into the woman I never wanted to be and feared I would become.

My daddy used to use the expression, “ain’t nuthin but the devil.” That man cheating on you with his ex, that ain’t nuthin but the devil.” “All them people out there saying that what you are doing is against God baby, that ain’t nuthin but the devil.” “All those people out there throwing stones when they know they in a glass house Elise, that ain’t nothing but the devil.” I tell you. I’m bout sick of the damn devil and his twisted ways. The more I try to be positive and move on, the more negative forces try to drag me back into the abyss.

Emily heard about the fire and immediately invited me on the show. Whenever there was madness, she was there to calm the insanity. Her infant son Wiley had been born and was a source of inspiration. Before it had been all about career, making it, and being the next Oprah. Today it was about making the world a better place not only for him, but herself. She even put a more popular celebrity on hold so she could have me on. Some people say the times are changing and that is beautiful. I say the times are staying the same and that’s ugly. It’s time to kick this thing into overdrive.

When I walk out I’m greeted by an audience of smiling faces, support, and screams from the peanut gallery. It’s a welcome reception in a place that is normally reserved for celebrity gossip. On my third time being here I feel more at home than ever. I speak to Emily with a sense of ease that is seldom seen on talk shows. The urgency in what’s being said is apparent.

“So why do you feel they burned down the new site?”

“People live in hate. They say America is a place of acceptance, but really we aren’t. We speak in hate still. We speak in hate toward other races, colors, and creeds. We speak in hate toward homosexuals. We speak in hate toward anyone who doesn’t look, walk, talk, think and act like us.”

“They say this may have been some of Hope Watsons more radical followers.”

“I wouldn’t want to think of the woman as that low, but that could be a factor. I mean we aren’t cooking crack or selling illegal fire arms. We are helping women to become mothers.

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