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CHAPTER 1

Interrupted Garden

Genesis 3:1–7

Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, "Did God really say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?" The woman said to the serpent, "We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, 'You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die. You will not certainly die," the serpent said to the woman, For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil." When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.

Damaged goods, defiled, devalued, broken, used, not good enough, overlooked, unworthy, forgotten, lost, invisible, unseen, stained, tainted, unimportant, rejected, ashamed, hidden, a zero, unloved; God doesn't love me. God is mad at me. Where are you, God? Why didn't you stop this from happening to me? Why didn't you protect me? You are the all-powerful, all-knowing God. Didn't you know this would happen? I remember when I told and asked myself these things, over and over again. I grew up believing in and praying to God, yet the devil's whispers shouted, overpowering God's voice to me. I think back at being the tender age of only four years old. I remember that happy little girl playing with her dolls, playing at the park, Mommy and Daddy doing all the right things to protect me. We were always just happy with the simple things in life. Until all of that happiness and innocence had been snatched away from me. Let me take you back to a very long time ago ...

It was a pleasant Friday morning. Daddy had taken that day off from work. Mom helped me get dressed. I wore a lovely red-and-white dress with frilly white ankle socks and black patent-leather Mary-Jane style shoes. That day was my first preschool play. We were so excited. Daddy wore a dress jacket, dress shirt, and nice slacks. You would think he was going to a big important event, like a wedding or something. But indeed, for Mom and Dad, this was an important event. My very first play, ever. I had memorized all of the words to "I'm a Little Teapot." How proud I was to know all of the words to that song. What a sense of accomplishment for me. Mom and Dad were sitting in the front row of the classroom. Mom's eyes watered with gleam and Daddy's smile went from ear to ear, his camera ready in his hand. My classmates and I wore little teapot costumes that we made out of big cardboard, and we painted pastel-colored little faces on them. The best part of preparing for the play was painting the teapot faces. After all, I loved painting and Mom said I was the artist in our family. After weeks of practice and preparation, the performance had been over just like that. Me and my group of preschool friends stood in front of a bunch of clapping, whistling, and proud parents. Camera flashes blinded us. It was such a good morning. Little did I know that it would be one of the last moments of pure joy before evil suddenly introduced itself to me. It was an evil that would take residence into my undefiled life.

"Natasha, you were really good, Honey. I'm so proud of you," Daddy said as he picked me up and hugged me tight.

I smiled shyly as I held onto him tightly, too.

"We have a little surprise for you," Mom said.

"What is it?"

"Take a guess," Daddy said.

"You got me a Snickers bar?"

"No," laughed Mom.

"We are going to take you to your favorite place to eat," Daddy said with a smile.

"Yay! Mama's Little Italy?" I yelped.

"Yes! And you can order whatever you want, Sweetheart."

I could taste those chocolate chip cannolis. It was like they had just told me I was going to Disney.

"Auntie Lucy and Uncle Joseph are also visiting later on."

"And my cousins, too?" I asked.

"Of course silly. Joe Jr. and Lisa are both coming."

This day had been close to perfect. And it hadn't been over just yet. I couldn't wait for my cousins to come visit. I'm an only child, so my cousins were the next best thing to having a brother and sister. My cousin Lisa was a year younger than me. We were very close, like sisters. My cousin Joe Jr. was sixteen, almost seventeen years old. Joe loved to prank people. He was what everyone called "the bad kid." I just thought that's how older boy cousins were supposed to be. He didn't faze me.

Early evening had then arrived. The sun's face was a deep mandarin-orange color with pink clouds hiding behind it. I watched it slowly settling down from my bedroom window. Then I heard the doorbell.

"Mommy, Mommy, I think they're here!"

Daddy opened the door, and Lisa bolted toward me and we wrapped our arms around each other.

"Let's go play tea time!" Lisa smiled. We didn't waste any time. We scurried away quickly into to my bedroom. I could smell the yummy food lingering in the halls. Mom prepared the breaded chicken cutlets and had just added the fresh mozzarella and homemade sauce on top. Chicken parmigiana was Dad's favorite.

I had a knack for being able to pay attention to my surroundings while busy doing something else. I could hear the laughter of my parents, auntie, and uncle from the kitchen. The evening was perfect. Then my bedroom door creaked as it slowly opened.

"Hey!" Joe shouted and then laughed obnoxiously. "What are you two brats doing?"

"We are having a tea party," I said. "Yeah, we are having a tea party. Do you want some tea, Joe?" Lisa asked in her babyish voice.

"Tea? There is no tea in there. What kind of boring game is this?" Joe said.

Tears welled up in Lisa's eyes, and she suddenly ran out, crying. "Daddy, Joe is being mean again."

Joe just laughed, without a care in the world.

"Joe!" Uncle Joseph yelled. "What did you do now?"

"I didn't do anything. I'm just joking around with them."

I just dismissed the whole thing. I figured, even in my little four-year-old mind, that Lisa was only still a baby, and maybe she just needed to sleep. After all, she was only three years old. I consoled her and we continued to play. After some time later, Little Lisa fell asleep on my bed.

I started feeling a little sleepy myself, so I laid next to her and dozed off. It didn't seem that I had been asleep that long, when I felt something weird. Was I dreaming? But then the feeling became more profound. As my eyes lazily opened, I could see that Joe was sitting at the edge of my bed. His hand had a tight grip on my inner thigh. It kind of hurt.

"Argh!" I screamed.

"Shhhh! Be quiet," Joe whispered, placing his hand over my mouth.

"Nooo!"

Lisa woke up crying hysterically. My happy room, which had been filled with laughter earlier, suddenly became a room of fear.

The door swiftly opened.

"What's going on? What's wrong, Honey?" Mom asked worriedly.

"Ummm, I'm sorry. The girls were sleeping. I guess Natasha saw my shadow and got scared," Joe explained.

"Is that what happened, Baby? Are you, okay?" Mom asked again.

"Ah, yes, Mommy," I said, confused.

At this point, the only thing that made sense in my little mind was that I had a nightmare.

Auntie Lucy rushed in. "What did you do, Joe?" "Why do you think I did anything, Mom? Nothing! I did nothing!" Joe argued.

Auntie Lucy quickly picked up Lisa and embraced her. "I think we better get going. It's getting late," she said. Little Lisa's head rested on my auntie's shoulder. Mom followed them out.

Joe followed behind my mom. He turned around and locked eyes with me as he smirked, and rested his forefinger on the top of his lips. "Shhhhhhh." Then he walked out.

Still confused about what just happened, I laid down on my bed wide awake. I tried to replay it in my mind. After much thinking, I reasoned with myself that I had dreamed the whole thing. After all, my cousin Joe had always been annoying, and maybe that's why I dreamed that he was trying to hurt me.

Let Me Introduce You to Fear

Proverbs 4:16–18

For they cannot rest until they do evil; they are robbed of sleep till they make someone stumble.

They eat the bread of wickedness and drink the wine of violence. The path of the righteous is like the morning sun, shining ever brighter till the full light of day.

The dreary clouds danced in the sky; behind them hid the hazy sun. The windows perspired with condensation. It had been a few days since we'd seen my auntie and uncle. It was unusual, especially for Auntie Lucy, because she'd always stop by to visit Mom. They only lived about five minutes away and both had a close-sister bond. Mom and Auntie Lucy are Irish twins, only eleven months apart. Some people believed they were really identical twins because they looked so much alike. Both of them have light-brown, curly hair with natural highlight streaks, hazel eyes, and light-brown skin complexion. They were a mix between my grandpa and Nana. Nana was a beautiful African-American woman with bright green eyes and Grandpa, a handsome Puerto Rican man with coffee-brown eyes. Quite often, when I walk with Dad anywhere, they'd ask him who I belonged to. Daddy would laugh each time. I'm guessing because Dad is Irish with blue eyes. I am a mini version of Mom, though, and I felt lucky to have Nana's green eyes, too. Daddy always said I would never have a boyfriend. Otherwise, they'd have to go through him. Ha! He had always been so protective of me.

Later that Wednesday afternoon, there was a loud knock on the door. Mom quickly walked toward the door, hoping it was Auntie Lucy.

Mom looked surprised. "Hey! Joe. How's it going, Sweetheart? Where are your mom and Lisa?"

"She took Lisa for a follow up to the pediatrician. She had some sort of rash on one side of her face," Joe replied. "And Dad is still at work."

"Oh no, what sort of rash?"

"Mom seems to think it's some kind of allergic reaction. She sent me over here and asked if I can wait here until she's done and that she'll be right over after the appointment."

"Of course you can. No wonder I haven't seen her. I'm cooking my famous garlic mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, collard greens, and Uncle Phillip is grilling some steaks. I've been calling your mom the last couple of days, and no answer."

"Something was wrong with our phone. But it's fixed now," Joe explained. "Hey, since you're here, is it okay if you stay here for a few minutes with Natasha?"

"Sure, Auntie," Joe quickly replied.

"I'm going to run out and buy a couple more steaks since I know you guys are staying over for dinner tonight. I'll be right back."

"No problem, Auntie Lorraine."

I just continued painting. Mom bought me a few canvases and a cool new palette of paint. Since I had just started painting the magical garden, while overhearing Mom and Joe's conversation, I decided that I would add a little girl in the garden that represented Little Lisa. I wanted to paint something that would cheer her up. I got lost in the painting. I envisioned Little Lisa running across the beautiful forest-green lawn toward the colorful, magical garden. The garden had the most exotic flowers in it. Flowers that I don't think even existed in real life. There were neon-pink peonies that were treelike in size and iridescent white orchids with swirls of bright purple streaks. The orchids looked like jumbo umbrellas.

In the garden, there were also oversized fruit. Beautiful fruit! Giant cherry-red apples and tall cucumbers surrounded by sunshine-yellow tulips. It was a garden wonderland. My imagination continued to run wild. I wanted to live in this wondrous, bright, and fruitful garden. Abruptly, a monstrous thick, black cloud slowly began hovering over the garden with the little girl in it. Joe walked up right beside me and pushed me slightly.

"What are you painting there, you Little Runt?"

"I am painting a magical garden," I replied. "And I'm going to paint Lisa in it and give it to her when I finish."

"That painting is kinda boring ... gardens are boring. Why don't you draw something more interesting, like something creepy or scary?" Joe said as he smirked.

"Scary? I don't like scary things."

He picked me up from the stool. I became a little startled since he'd never done that before.

"What are you doing?" I asked. "I'm still painting."

"Well, I figured you'd be more comfortable if you sat on my lap while you paint. Besides, I'd like to look at it from your point of view," Joe said.

Although still confused, in my little mind at the time, I just went along with it. I didn't want him to get more annoying than he already was.

He abruptly sat me on his lap. I immediately felt uncomfortable and realized I wouldn't really be able to paint this way.

"Joe, I want to sit by myself."

"Aww, come on. It's okay. Just try ... I won't bother you," Joe said, giving me a devilish smile. There I sat on his lap, thinking and wondering when Daddy would be done. I could hear the lawn mower still going, so loud, in the backyard. As I started to continue painting, Joe kept moving, fidgeting around and wouldn't stop. I didn't understand what he was trying to do. His arms were folded across the top of my lap. I couldn't move.

"Joe!" I yelled. "It's bothering me."

But Joe kept silent. The more I talked, the tighter his arms pressed against my lap. My heart pounded in my little chest. My breaths became harder as if I couldn't breathe. I yelled out again. But still, not a word out of him. His arms were hurting me. The front doorknob started turning and I heard a clicking noise. Quickly, Joe jumped off the stool, pushing me off at the same time. I fell sideways onto the floor and began crying. My hip hurt so badly from the slight fall.

"What in the world happened?" Mom yelled as she placed the grocery bag on the counter. She had returned from the store.

But I couldn't stop crying.

"Uhh ..." Joe looked scared.

"What happened?" Mom shouted again.

"I ... I just picked her up to move her," Joe explained. "It was an accident."

"So you dropped her!? Why did you try moving her in the first place? Joe! I leave you here for a few minutes and this is what happens!? Just please go over there." Mom fumed. She picked me up.

"Baby, are you okay? Mommy is here."

Her hug felt so safe. The energy in my body felt drained. It was a feeling I had never experienced before. It was pure fear. I didn't quite understand why I felt so afraid. It didn't make sense. And why was Joe acting so weird with me? Why did he remain silent while pressing onto me so tightly? I thought maybe he didn't like me and tried to scare me.

"What happened baby?"

"Joe ... Joe ..." I muttered nervously.

"Joe what, Honey?" Mom stared him down.

"Joe scared me."

"How did I scare you? She's lying!" Joe screamed.

"Hey, hey," Mom interrupted.

Then Daddy walked in. "Hey, what's going on in here?"

I ran into Daddy's arms with my head in his chest.

"Joe picked her up and somehow dropped her!" Mom said.

"You what?" Dad said with angry eyes toward Joe.

"It was an accident! I swear! I'm sorry. I told Natasha that her painting was boring and that maybe she could paint something scary. I was only kidding."

"Well, I'm going to have a talk with your mom when she gets here. You need to apologize to Natasha," Mom, said upset.

"I'm sorry, Natasha," mumbled Joe.

I just nodded. Looking back, I realize now I could not express myself to my parents. I didn't quite understand what had happened. All I know is that it didn't feel good to me. For the first time, I had seen Joe through a completely different lens. He had always been the annoying big cousin, but this time, I'd seen him as somewhat of a threat. Maybe something was wrong with me. Maybe in my four-year-old little mind, I had perceived something that wasn't real. Maybe what I sensed was just a figment of my imagination. All I know is that fear had introduced itself to me for the first time that day.

The Monster in the Garden

Matthew 6:13

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.

Finally, the sky opened up as the clouds eventually disappeared. The rest of that evening turned out fine. Although, whenever no one was looking, Joe gave me haughty eyes. It looked like he was upset and I didn't understand why. The next few weeks after that were a blur. Mom's new schedule as sergeant at the precinct had been crazy. And Dad's hours at the hospital were all over the place. But we were looking forward to the upcoming camping trip. It was tradition for both of our families to go camping every year, around the middle of May. We had also become friendly with other families who'd stay at the same camp grounds. Mom never liked the whole camping outside in the tents thing, so we'd rent these really cool log cabins that had bathrooms and a kitchen. Little Lisa and I would take turns having sleepovers in each of our family's cabins.

The weekend before the camping trip, Dad had set up the lemonade stand in his old neighborhood in the Bronx, like he did last year. It had been such a success that Dad decided we'd do it every year as a tradition. Mom made two big pitchers of regular lemonade and two big pitchers of pink lemonade. My lemonade stand sign was really pretty and creative. Mom designed the lettering on the words and I painted pink and bright-yellow lemon trees all over the poster sign. We were charging twenty-five cents for a small and fifty cents for a large. Dad had always worked the lemonade stand with me.

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Excerpted from "The Deflowered Garden"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Tanya South.
Excerpted by permission of Thomas Nelson.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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