Page 75 of The Best Man: Unfinished Business

Chapter Forty-eight

Harper

As Harper and Robyn arrived at Labadi Beach, Harper remarked that the blue skies and never-ending ocean were beautiful, but different in their feel and look from anywhere else he’d ever experienced.

It was painful, powerful, and caused an overall malaise.

It came over him like a heavy cloak, weighing him down.

The spirit of Solomon, maybe the ancestors that had come there before him were all likely present?

When Robyn and Mia first moved to Accra, Harper had visited Cape Coast and had gone to the Door of No Return at Elmina Castle.

As a family they went to the dungeons where captured Africans were held and chained together, separated only by gender, without regard for language or culture.

Stripped naked, they were bathed then shackled again before being thrown into the wretched hulls of the enslavers’ ships.

Harper felt something there for sure. Many folks on that tour said they felt the spirits of the ancestors.

It was heavy. Even though Labadi Beach, more of a tourist area, was miles and miles from the castle, Harper felt a heavier, more personal, more profound part of him, weighed down.

Harper and Robyn stood by the shore, barefoot, holding hands.

“What do you want to say to him?” Robyn asked.

Harper looked at Robyn with confusion. “What do I—What? I thought you were going to lead us in…” Robyn just continued to hold eye contact with a gentle expression. “I don’t know, Robyn. I don’t know.”

“Harper, you’re one of the world’s most prolific writers. Try,” Robyn encouraged. More than anything, his loss of words was out of fear of what he’d say. How do you sum up an actual lifetime of words for a son you never had?

“Don’t think of this as your magnum opus.

Think of this as the first draft. Or your journal,” Robyn suggested.

Harper turned to Robyn. She spoke his language.

She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

He tried smiling back but his heart was too heavy; he was nervous.

“Don’t filter. Just be honest. Unload, Harper. ”

After another moment, Harper felt like he could begin. “I always wanted to meet him,” he said.

“Tell him.” Harper looked at her. She nodded. “Tell him.”

Harper looked out again toward the powerful yet peaceful ocean.

“I always wanted to meet you, Solomon,” Harper began.

“I know I had the chance when you left Mommy’s body.

But…I didn’t want to see you like that. I couldn’t bear it.

That wasn’t you. Not the you I saw in my mind,” Harper continued.

“I imagine the man you’d be now. Tall and handsome.

A great combination of Mom and me. Smart.

Man, you’d be so smart. You’d have come by it naturally, but Mom would have made sure you were encouraged to discover all your gifts.

” Harper’s tears started creeping out the corners of his eyes and his voice began to quaver.

“I think we would have been best friends. We would have had our fights. That’s only natural.

And you’d tell Mom ‘Dad doesn’t understand me’ and I’d tell her ‘Solomon just doesn’t get it.

’ We’d have played catch, you would have learned how to swim, we’d have done Little League baseball, and I would have read to you every night.

You would have loved hearing stories. You’d say ‘Read another one, Daddy? Just one more, Daddy,’ and I’d do it.

I never would have said no,” Harper continued.

“Good. Keep going, Harper. Keep talking,” Robyn encouraged.

“You would have loved my boys. Your uncles. Uncle Lance would teach you football and the Bible, Uncle Murch would teach you how to dance, how to be a leader, and to have integrity and I would rely on them to help me raise my first-born son. I’d get so much wrong, but damn it, I would try.

I would try so hard. Uncle Quentin would have taught you the guitar and music and how to play the dozens.

Because you gotta have thick skin around Black folks, son.

And you gotta be ready with your comebacks.

And spades. Oh, you’d have to master spades.

An absolute nonnegotiable. I’d teach you how to bid correctly, to set people and talk shit.

That’s basic Black, Solomon. Basic. Black.

” Harper laughed as messy tears came. “You’d be a great son,” Harper said.

“You’d have been the best thing I helped to create.

Nothing I would write would be better than you.

Nothing,” Harper declared. He went silent save for his sobs. Harper felt Robyn’s hand rub his back.

“I miss you, Solomon,” Harper said through a face full of tears, through quivering lips.

“I love you, Solomon. You are my angel. You’ve been there and I haven’t paid attention.

But it’s been you. It’s been you all along.

Thank you for being there for me. You’ve probably guided me more than I know,” Harper declared.

“You’re my muse.” His tears were a cleansing cry.

Harper didn’t even try to stop it. A purge.

His knees hit the soft wet sand and his body shook violently, heaving.

He felt Robyn’s much-needed love and support in that moment.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay, Harper,” Robyn said.

“He’s okay. He loves you. He forgives you.

Solomon forgives you, Harper.” Harper couldn’t stop sobbing.

Robyn knelt beside him and embraced him from behind.

Her warm tears dropped on his neck and shoulder.

“Let it out. It’s the beginning. It’s just the beginning.

He will give you strength, he will give you wisdom.

He will give you love, Harper.” Harper felt nauseous, breathless.

“Here,” Robyn said, handing him her water bottle. “Hydrate. Come on, baby.” Her voice was maternal, loving, soothing, comforting. Robyn.

Harper caught his breath, wiped his tears, exhaled deeply.

He looked at Robyn, who regarded him with understanding and empathy.

They hugged while on their knees, with love and endless support in their embrace, lasting until they pulled back enough for Harper to look into Robyn’s eyes.

The same eyes that he used to wake up to for over two decades.

The same eyes that showed nurturing patience, understanding, and acceptance.

Her partially sandy thumbs wiped his tears off his face.

Harper wiped his moist nose and upper lip, letting out an embarrassed “Oh…God.”

“It’s okay,” Robyn said. “It’s okay.”

“Thank you, Robyn.” Harper meant it deeply.

“You’re welcome.” Robyn nodded. She handed him a handkerchief, rubbed his shoulder, and leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“Take your time.” She abruptly stood and headed back to the car.

Harper watched her go, wishing she hadn’t left him there.

But he also understood why. As Robyn became smaller in his vision, Harper turned back to the ocean, took a deep breath, and let out a verbal and forceful sigh.

He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds around him.

The seagulls, the crashing waves, and his deep breathing became his soundtrack of his return to himself.