Local Author Featured : Unveiled

Grief and the sickeningly sweet smell of too many flowers hung heavy in the warm air of the late August afternoon. Morgan felt the weight of tears shed and hearts breaking. She rubbed her hands down her black silk suit when she walked slowly toward the simple wooden coffin that held the body of her beloved baby brother, Winston. “Half-brother.” She could almost imagine her mother, Marie, standing in front of her and uttering the word “half” as if it were some sort of disease. Morgan breathed deeply and pushed Marie’s words from her mind as she exhaled. They had no place here.

Winston’s mask-like, powdered face somehow belied the words “heart attack” that still echoed in her head. Morgan stepped away from the coffin and quickly brushed away her tears. She fled the church and barely heard the words of comfort tossed her way. Outside there would be air she could breathe without inhaling the pain of the mourners.

Morgan moved quickly once outside. Her legs felt somehow lighter than they had only moments before. She breathed deeply for the first time since she had received the news of Winston’s death a week ago and headed for the sanctuary of her car. The tinkling melody of the car alarm signaled her safe haven. She slid onto the butter-soft, caramel-colored leather seat and found comfort in its warmth. She cranked up the car, rolled down the electric windows, and turned on the CD player. The soulful sound of Jill Scott’s voice surrounded her as she watched the family file out of the church and head toward limousines with the words Garrett Bros. painted in gold across the rear doors and windows. Of course, it would be Garrett Bros. They were still the only mortuary in town that “knew how to do colored.” Morgan had heard her maternal grandmother, Essie Baptiste, say that many times while she was growing up. Mama Essie, as everyone lovingly called her, had made everyone in the family vow to take her body to Garrett Bros. when her time came. Although it had been three years since Mama Essie passed, Morgan still felt her presence in this place. This thought alone eased the tension in her neck and removed the large knot that had taken up residence in the pit of her stomach.

Morgan fanned herself slowly with the funeral program, which created a pleasant albeit warm breeze. Winston’s high school graduation picture grabbed her attention as she placed the program on the passenger seat of her car. At eighteen and dressed in his tuxedo, he still had the face of a little boy. Things had changed so suddenly Morgan thought as she eased her car into the funeral procession. 

Weeks before Winston was to report to Grambling University on a football scholarship, his girlfriend, Tanya, told him she was four months pregnant. Winston stayed in St. Vincent, married Tanya, and took a job driving a delivery truck for a local market. They named their son, William. Winston continued his training after he promised Morgan he would make good on his scholarship “one day.” Now six years later, he laid dead of a heart attack at the age of twenty-four.

The gravesite ceremony was sad; final. Morgan felt goose bumps rise on her arms, despite the wet heat of the afternoon. Her stomach churned as she cast her eyes downward away from the flailing arms of the mourners encircling the freshly dug grave. Morgan clinched her teeth and willed herself not to cry. She feared if she started she might never stop. Irene, Winston’s mother, had to be carried away by relatives and friends as she kicked, screamed, and threw herself at the coffin to stop it from being lowered into the ground. Family and friends tried unsuccessfully to quiet and soothe her before getting her seated in the back of the Garrett Bros. limousine. Morgan was drained and suddenly felt the reality of Winston’s death like a weight tied around her heart. She decided to forego the traditional funeral repast at Irene’s and instead went straight home after leaving the cemetery.

“Mama! Mama!” Morgan called as she entered the living room of her mother’s home. The hardwood floors and rich mahogany wainscoting gleamed in the shadows of the early evening. The silver tea service shone brilliantly atop the highly polished buffet and was only rivaled by the matching silver candelabras that stood guard on each side. Morgan smiled as she wondered whose house had all the extra dust that was forbidden in Marie’s home. She spied a note leaned against a crystal vase filled with white tulips on the dining room table.

Lisa, I hope you have not exhausted yourself 

             completely with the day’s events. I am giving a 

          lecture at the university, followed by a reception 

           sponsored by the Deltas. I’ll be late. Your uncle Raymond wants you to call him.

Mama

Lisa. Here was another reminder that she was no longer in New Orleans. No one there knew the “L” in L. Morgan Franklin stood for Lisa. For that matter, no one there knew much about the Rockhurst district of L’Ouverture, Louisiana. 

Unveiled available on Amazon

Paperback book link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/0578652692

Kindle book link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0859TVQFC

Email:  larhondawrites@gmail.com

Facebook:  https://facebook.com/larhondacrosbyjohnson

Get to know the author:

Tell us a little more about yourself as a writer.

I was an early reader.  As a child my mother could never punish me by sending me to my room because I’d just use that time to read.  I think I was about seven or eight years old when I wrote my first story.  It was just something to amuse myself.  I continued to write throughout my life, but only for my own enjoyment or for sharing with a small circle of family and friends.  I was well into adulthood before I even thought of myself as a writer or considered sharing my writing with larger audiences.

Where did you get your love of writing?

I love words and words make stories.  I was an only child for four years and had lots of time to amuse myself.  Stories just came naturally.  I may even have a few imaginary friends around from time to time.  Writing became and continues to be a way for me to be with myself and share my internal world with the outside world. A friend described it as me communing with God and that felt so right.

What inspired you to write Unveiled?

It really wasn’t anything specific.  I come from a large family and extended family network and from time to time secrets come to light.  I guess I’m just curious about what it looks like when those secrets are revealed or unveiled and how that impacts individuals differently.  In the story, Marie and Irene share similar experiences, but it turns them into two very different women.  

What have you enjoyed most about being a writer since the release of Unveiled?

I’ve enjoyed talking to readers about the book.  That’s been the most fun.  I’m a long time member of a book club, Marcus Book Club in Oakland, CA, so reading and talking about books is one of my favorite things.  Unveiled has had an amazingly positive reception and that has been gratifying because it is really hard work getting a book ready for readers.  Talking about Unveiled with readers has taught me so much more about the work.  That’s the other thing that makes every conversation, book club meeting so interesting; everyone brings something different to the work and thus takes something different away?

What’s the hardest part of the writing process for you?

I love writing; forming the story.  Literally, the hours speed by when I’m in writing mode. The editing process is the most difficult because it is so tedious and I find that I can grow impatient. Nothing happens in the time you think it will and that can be a little frustrating.  Fortunately, I have an amazing editor who knows me and took the time to learn the story I was creating.  This made it less painful.  Also, as a self-published writer, the marketing is never ending and while it isn’t what I would call hard it is very time consuming.

What did you intend for the reader?

I wanted the reader to have a great time reading.  I wasn’t teaching any lessons even though people have shared what they’ve learned from living with these characters.  I wasn’t trying to illustrate any deep analysis of families or society even though people have shared how much they’ve learned about themselves and their families.  Unveiled, was an adventure for me and that was my hope for readers; that they would enjoy the journey.

What’s next for you as a writer?

To continue to write and publish some more projects.  I love anthologies and have been fortunate to have essays and short stories published in several and would love to do more.  I wrote an e-book serial novel and really enjoyed that format, so I may try it again in the future.  Right now I am deciding whether or not to expand a young adult novella into a full-length novel.  I am also trying my hand at what I learned is the genre of afro-surrealism and am looking forward to learning more because I have a couple of stories bouncing around in my head?

Sounds like you’re going to keep yourself busy and keep us reading great books.

That’s definitely the plan.

La Rhonda Crosby- Johnson cannot remember a time when she hasn’t loved stories.  At the urging of friend and mentor, Blanche Richardson, La Rhonda attended Tina McElroy Ansa’s first Sea Island Writer’s Retreat on Sapelo Island in 2004.  It was there that she began to “see” herself as a writer.  

She is a contributor to the award-winning Life Spices From Seasoned Sistahs anthology series and has also published work in Go, Tell Michelle:  African American Women Write To The New First Lady, Sassy, Savvy and Bold After 50,  Jubilee’s Journey, an e-book, serial novel and her debut novel Unveiled.  La Rhonda is honored to also be a part of the anthology All The Women In My Family Sing edited by Deborah Santana. Her short story, Perfect Fit in the 2017 anthology, Where’s My Tiara? has become a favorite.

La Rhonda lives in San Leandro, CA with her husband and is hard at work on her next project.