Living Reality

Hello readers. I know it has been a while since we had an interview with one of the characters. Today we welcome Debney Nichole Armstrong from the novel D.N.A. to THE CHAIR.

 Author: Please explain to the audience what D.N.A. is about.

Debney:
The novel explores the emotions involved when living in a super
dysfunctional family, my horrible mistakes in judgement and hopefully
shows a powerful act of survival.

Author: So, Debney. I'm so glad you can take a few minutes away from your busy life to explain this chapter. Looks as if you are on a reality show. With all of the drama you have been through lately, what would make you do such a thing? 

Debney: Believe me. Appearing on that slush of a show was the last thing on my mind. Between the guys from high school and Giante' s mother I had no choice. It is an experience I never want to go through again. All I want to tell your audience is, please enjoy the excerpt and leave comments on your opinion.

Author: Thanks. You heard her audience. Please read and leave a comment.

 EXCERPT:

Pulling the Mercedes to the valet parking area of the 'You’re Not the Daddy' studio, Debney
grabbed the diaper bag from the passenger seat, got out and folded the driver's
seat in preparation of removing the baby and his carrier from the car.

"Let me give you a hand."

Debney looked over her shoulder at the man standing near the
car’s side-view mirror. She read the name 'Phil' on the tag around his neck,
proclaiming him as a member of the studio's valet parking staff, but still felt
reluctant to put her trust in him.

"That’s okay. I got it."

Phil chuckled loudly, his overweight belly shaking in
merriment. "I don’t blame you. This is a beautiful car."

"The car can be replaced."

"You must have a rich daddy."

"I used to. This--" she reached into the body of
the car and pulled out the infant seat. "Has more value than anything in
the world." Maneuvering the molded plastic chair between the man, the car
and herself she turned the baby so he could be seen. "Believe me I would
give up everything for the safety of Baroque. I'm even coming on this
dumb-assed, degrading show just for him."

"Only goes to show you're already a good parent. I’ve
seen some pretty ignorant people drive up here and age didn’t matter. Most of
them just cared about themselves. Waltzing in here like they was walking up a
red carpet. Ordering people around and being downright ignorant. By starting
off putting him first in your life, you’re making very adult choices." He
stretched out his hand for the car keys. "The assistant is coming to show
you where to go. I'm going to give you this stub. Just give it to the valet
attendant when you're ready to leave and your car will be returned."

Debney accepted the slip of paper and turned to face the
assistant who was now standing near her right shoulder.

"I need to get something from the trunk first."

The valet walked to the back of the car. "What is it
you need?"

"The stroller frame to attach the seat makes it so much
easier to travel around."

"Ms. Armstrong?" The assistant tapped her on the
shoulder to grab her attention. "Hi, I'm Dustin, Floyd Joy's assistant.
Follow me and I'll show you where you will be waiting until it’s your
turn." Without a second glance he began to walk away. He turned to look back over his shoulder and noticed Debney
was walking slowly behind him and struggling with the combined cumbersome
weight of the baby’s diaper bag and her over-sized purse. "Let me carry that for you. You should ask your momma
how to pack this thing. I bet you have too much in it."

"I wouldn’t ask her if she were alive."

Debney pushed the stroller with a little more speed than
necessary which caused her to out-distance the assistant and him to scurry to
catch up.

Quickly scanning his notes, he obviously found something
which caused him to blush in embarrassment. 

"Sorry, I should have read my
notes. Here, this is the waiting area. Feel free to get drinks, snack, or
whatever." He opened the door for her to enter before quickly making his
escape.

Pushing the baby in the ridiculously expensive travel
system, Debney was glad she had allowed Nadine to talk her into the purchase.
There was no way she would have been able to walk the long route to the green
room, lugging the heavy carrier and all of the paraphernalia in her hands. The
baby looked safe and happy and it gave her something to concentrate on other
than the enormous butterflies fighting to get out of her stomach. She was so
nervous and very irritated at the fact she had to be there.

Following the assistant's gestures she entered the small
room. It consisted of a couch, stained carpet, an armchair and a table holding
a variety of snacks and iced beverages.  Nervous and definitely feeling parched, she immediately
crossed the room and chose a cold drink.

"Okay, Ms. Armstrong sit here, and try to relax. You
can have a snack and make sure you sit on the right side of the couch and try
to face that light." He pointed to a red bulb stationed above a small TV
screen.

"Every time it turns green it means they are scanning to your face.
You won't have to say anything and nothing you say back here can be heard out
there." He looked at his watch. "I need to go. F.J. will come and
speak to you in a few minutes and just before it’s time for you to go on stage,
our staff member, Amber, will come in so she can sit with the baby."

"That won't be necessary. I'll keep him with me."

"Sorry, it doesn't work like that."

Startled, Debney turned to the sound of the voice coming
from the entrance to the room. It was Floyd Joy James. He stepped in, hands
stretched in welcome and she moved away to stand closer to her baby. She had
seen his show many times in the past few days and he was ruthless. The premise
of his You're Not the Daddy's
show was to tear down the esteem and reputation of the girls
brought into the arena. The guys were brought on first, interviewed as the
victims, praised for trying to be responsible and then the girls came on and
shot themselves in the foot. Usually they were the satirical ghetto girls.
Didn't matter what their ethnicity was because they all came on screen loud,
vulgar and defensive. But who could blame them? The negative portrayal of them,
the disrespect from what most of the girls believed to be the love of their
lives, fueled on by the jeers of the audience would light the flame of any
woman. And to make it worse, you could tell F.J. was getting a kick out of the
drama because every time the camera panned on him, he would be smiling and
sweating, looking like a pervert getting his rocks off at the expense of
ignorant teenagers. Debney had already slotted him in her mind as a
woman-hating, depraved idiot and she refused to shake his hand.

Holding the cool can tighter she studied his face. He didn't
look like the cruel uncaring person she had seen daily on her TV screen. Here,
his hair was soft and curly and his face was kind and encouraging. He smiled
slightly and spoke softly.

"Don't be nervous, Debbie. Everything will be alright.
We don't allow the children on stage because sometimes things get really
emotional and we like to keep the babies out of harm’s way. You understand,
right?" He put his hand on his chest across where his heart was supposed
to be. "Do you mind if I take a peek?"

"No, go--" She paused to clear her throat.
"Go ahead. Just try not to wake him."

F.J. pushed back the canopies covering the baby and smiled
what seemed more of a genuine smile than she had ever seen on him. But of
course, small infants and baby animals always made people smile.

"Beautiful and his name is Baroque? Did you name him
after the time period in history or is it pronounced differently?" He
asked with a smirk.

"Time period and please don't call me Debbie." She
refused to elaborate.

F.J. was her enemy and as sure as day, she wasn't handing
out any weapons to be used against her. She had seen the shocked faces of some
of the girls from the show. They had obviously spilled their guts to him at
what was obviously a staged, impromptu visit and once in front of the camera,
he used their words to nail their coffins. Idiot was nowhere in her name. After
a few more pleasantries and instructions, F.J. and his assistant left the room.

Debney sat down as soon as the door snapped shut. F.J. was
good, but she hadn't watched his show just to be a voyeur in the lives of
others, she had watched to make sure she wouldn't be dragged into any traps or
fall into any molds. Her goal was to remain a lady and keep her cool. And she
had dressed the part. She'd gone out, purchased a just-below-knee, flowing
ivory dress because she didn’t want it to slide too high when she sat. She also
wore a matching lace cardigan with pearl buttons. She'd taken time putting on
her makeup and wore her hair loose with a hint of curls. She intended to be the
opposite of everyone ever on the show.

Sitting in the green room on the designated spot, it was
obvious whenever the camera was pointed in her direction because the light
would flash a bright green just before the monitor would switch on. After her
first startle of the process, she relaxed and sipped on her drink. Eventually,
she had to mask her annoyance at the constant flash on/flash off when she
realized it was a ploy to fuel irritation. After getting up and being able to
walk the room in ten easy steps, she deduced everything was designed to cause
anger.

The room was claustrophobic, the piped-in music was
mind-numbing and if the baby had been crying, as she had seen some of the
girls’ babies doing, she would go crazy. After five minutes, the piped-in music
was replaced with the dialogue from the stage. It took everything in her to
ignore the lies and bank down her anger.

If it weren't for the calm voice of Gianté which was
periodically being allowed to break through the shouts of the others, she would
have grabbed the stroller and gone the hell home. At just the moment when she
made up her mind to do just that, the door opened and an Amazon of a woman
walked in. She tiptoed to the stroller, peeked at the sleeping baby and
whispered, "Hi, I'm Amber." She held out the badge swinging from a
chain around her neck and bearing the station's emblem. "I'll sit with the
baby. I promise I won't touch him. You follow him." She pointed at the
assistant standing outside the door. "I promise the baby will be safe
until your return."

"Okay, Amber. You're his first babysitter and I'm
putting my trust in you, but before I leave I’ll just take a quick
picture." She pulled her cell from the pocket of her dress. "Just a
quick snap for his memory book and plus, if I come back and he’s gone, I’ll
know who to come after. Just call me paranoid."

Debney followed the assistant through the maze of hallways
to the small sitting area, stood to be connected to a wireless mic and then was
left to await the cue for her to go on.

"Oh, and Debney, just a small reminder, don’t call him
anything but ‘F.J.’ because he hates being called Floyd."

"I remember reading that in the paperwork and rules
mailed to me."

"Great. So all’s set and you should be called in a
couple of minutes. I'll go take care of a few things." He moved away to
talk to a stage hand and she stood quietly to wait for her cue.

"Okay, please welcome Debney Nichole Armstrong to the
show."

F.J. stood, smoothed down the ridiculously fluorescent, blue
and orange pinstriped jacket of his suit and turned to the camera with his
trademarked snicker/joker look of a smile plastered on his face. He loved this
part of the show, all hell usually broke loose. After being forced to sit in
the green room watching flashing lights and listening to their lives and
reputations being torn apart by what really amounted to worthless callous boys
pretending to be men, the teenage girls always stormed on stage ready to bust
heads. From what he had seen of her nervous posture in the dressing room and
her outfit chosen with the sure intent to play the innocent victim, Debney
Armstrong was about to be torn apart by the audience. He couldn’t wait to see
her lose control. The excitement had him feeling giddy with anticipation.

The audience's boos, ridicules and catcalls were so loud,
Debney almost didn't hear F.J. James announce her. Nervous and a little
reluctant to move, she almost stumbled up the steps when the assistant prodded
her with a jab to the back to go forward. Hurrying up the small ramp to the
stage she faltered at the rush of angry, cruel energy in the studio. The
smothering urge to turn and run caused bile to rise in her throat and she
thought she would pass out. The wave of F.J.'s hand in front of her face was
the distraction she needed to bring her back to reality.

As she walked down the remaining steps and in front of the
panel on the stage, she reminded herself that if it weren't for the future of
the baby, she swore she would just turn around and walk out of the room. She
had very little urge to expose her life in front of a group of people who
didn't know her from the proverbial Eve, let alone to those who had already
made up their minds to condemn her as a free-flying, teenage whore.

Taking in a deep breath and releasing quickly, she focused
her attention on the widely smiling host of the show. The man looked more like
an idiot up close than she had thought. What the hell had he done to his hair
during their time apart? The change in his persona was mimicked in the change
in hairdo. The softness was gone.

"Hi, Debney." He pointed to the only vacant seat
out of the five chairs beside his stationed on the stage. 

"Here have a
seat. Mind if I call you Debbie or should I call you by the name the kids call
you in school? What was that?"

"DNA."

Three of the guys shouted. Standing and waving their hands
in the air like idiots to incite the crowd. Gianté moved his chair just a bit
to his left to distance himself from the others and lowered his gaze to his
clasped hands before looking away from her.

Sliding slowly into the chair, Debney forced a smile to her
face before answering F.J. James. Obviously the gloves were off. The smile on
his face was brittle and dangerous. Nothing like the gushing, smiling man she'd
met earlier in the green room. The glint in his eyes just before he transferred
his gaze from her to the audience promised to draw blood.