KIDS MAKING BABIES. WHO WILL LOVE THEM? MAMA’S BOY by Venice Johnson (The early 60s) approx. 2,500 words The young mother tried to love her son. She tried. She tried! She blamed it for how bad life had become for her. She blamed it for stealing her life, for sucking her girlhood away before she’d even had time to enjoy the world of giggles and dating boys like her schoolmates. How different her life would have been had it never been born. But it had been born and she had to give it a name. But she never loved it. Never. She thought the reason was on how the child had come to be. A boy had said he loved her and said he had proved it by taking her to the movies and buying her popcorn. He reminded her that he could have any girl on the Boulevard but he had chosen her. That confession had struck joy into her inexperienced heart. As young girls can be, the thought of being special made her swell with pride. He held her hand. They walked down the street with their schoolmates making “ ooooo” sounds and giving out whistles. The girl had written in her diary that she was in love. But the sweet joy of love didn’t last very long because then her true love had said he wanted her to give him some. She had pondered “some”, like all he was asking for a little bit of her love and nothing more. Wasn’t it fair, he’d said: “If you love me as you say you do, what I’m asking is only natural. It’s what two people in love do, baby.” “But I do love you,” she said as he turned away from her. For days she’d call him on the telephone but he wouldn’t call her back. One day she saw him walking down the Boulevard with Alice Green and she had gone wild with jealousy. With tear streaming down her face, she made a fool of herself in front of everyone and said: “I thought you loved me,” she cried. “I thought-“ “Yeah? Well, I just moved on,” he said and brushed past her. This time there were snickers and Alice Green said: “Girl, you embarrassing yourself!” And all her backup girls slapped hands and laughed out loud. Stunned, the young girl staggered away, her mind screaming. “Stupid. Stupid! It’s all because you didn’t give him for what he asked. The world won’t explode and nobody has to know that you did it. Only you and him. Bet Alice Green is going to give him some. Maybe she already has. How bad could it be? Girls did it every day.” Her head answered back: “But what if you got pregnant?” The other voice said: “See, that’s how stupid you are. Everybody knows a girl cain’t get pregnant doing it her first time!” She was so desperate. She let him. There was nothing beautiful in the painful time it took to toss her virginity away. He took no time to kiss her. He rung her breast like he was twisting the door knob of a locked door. He crammed his finger into her and before she knew it, he jammed IT into her. A rough kiss stopped her scream of surprise as she felt something pop inside her. She had tried to squirm from under him, weeping and pleading all the while he ploughed into her. She was still crying when he grunted, got up and stuffed his Thing back into his pants. It was as though he’d put back his Show and Tell piece back in its drawer. When he got up, she grabbed his arm. “…will you call me tonight?” her eyes and throat burned with tears and her voice was shaking. “Ain’t you heard? Me and Alice. We knocking it now.” “But I gave you some,” she said not believing what he’d just said. “So what?” She swallowed, got up and turned to look into that pretty face, that long body, those caramel eyes that made every girl on the Boulevard swoon, those… His eyes were as cold as chilly pneumonia over breeze. So hard she dropped her hand and stepped back as though he’d burned her. “What if I get a baby?” “You cant get pregnant the first time. Besides I pulled out in time. He buttoned his shirt, smoothed his wavy hair and started up the basement stairs. She didn’t know there would be blood. When she saw it in her ripped panties she howled thinking that it hadn’t taken more than five minutes to change her soul. A month later, her period came and she thought she was lucky even though she was sluggish and slow and threw up her lunch. If your period came, everything was alright. She didn’t know she was caught until three months into everything. She’d passed out in Gym and had to go to the Nurse. To her dismay, she discovered that she hadn’t escaped the act at all. She was pregnant. She muttered to the Nurse. “But, I had my period.” “Uh huh,” said the Nurse. “It was my first time.” “Uh huh,” said the Nurse. “But I can’t be pregnant. I got my period six months ago.” “Well, you got pregnant three months ago.” The girl sat on the Nurse’s table sobbing when she was told she couldn’t go home until her Mother was called. Her Mother came to the school having to leave work early and that meant she didn’t get paid. Her Mother listened as the Nurse told gave her the solemn news. Without a word her Mother had taken her out of school. On the bus ride home, her Mother looked out the window and sighed. Once in the house, her Mother took off her waitress uniform and went into the kitchen and started dinner. Uneasy the girl sat on her bed waiting for her mother to come and yell at her, come tell her how disappointed she was. Maybe she’d get beat. Unable to bear the silence, the girl went into the kitchen. “..I’m sorry, Mama,” she said her voice barely a whisper. Her mother said nothing as she continued fixing dinner. A box of spaghetti came down from the cabinet. The smell of tomato sauce tinkled the air. “Mama, he said he loved me. He said-“ Her Mother turned around with weary eyes and said: “I know what he said?” The daughter’s eyes widened as she looked into her Mother’s. “I know what they all say. I know what he said because…” her Mother paused. “…Because that’s how I got you.” For a moment all that was heard was the bubbling sauce and the sound of the girl’s heart thrumming in her eyes. Then the two women were in each other’s arms. Later when she told the boy that he had gotten her pregnant and that the baby was his, he laughed out loud and said “Mama’s baby, Daddy’s maybe!” He was no fool. “Besides, rumble down along the Boulevard is that you been passing yo’ pussy out like govment cheese.” “I never did it with nobody but you!” she cried. “Prove it! You may be knocked up by somebody but it sho’ ain’t me.” Two weeks later he was walking down the Boulevard with another girl with his arm draped around a cheerleader. In the months which followed, when she began to show, the boy would stand on the corner with his friends and lean in to whisper something that made them laugh whenever she walked by. The boys would yell out all kind of insults, and slap hands like they were all in on a secret. Sometimes unable to pretend a pride she didn’t feel, she stumbled in their wake as the jeers seemed suddenly to be hands shoving her along the street. She watched her mother suffer most of all. She had been a proud woman. When her daughter became the neighborhood scandal even the Church saints leaned in to gossip, until it had become impossible to remain in the Congregation. Where was God? Didn’t He see and know? The girl didn’t eat much as the months went by. She cried a lot and wished she could die rather than see the shame she’d brought to her mother; rather than see the boy‘s mocking eyes. When it was impossible to walk on swollen ankles, the girl stayed at home. One day, it was time. She went into labor in the early morning and stayed that way until the next day, early dawn. Who says you forget that kind of pain? The baby was born; arriving with the plagues of Egypt. It was trouble right from the very start. He was sick. He was too small. He would not cry. He would not eat. The doctor said, it was a though this baby knew he was not wanted. And nothing, not even passionate admonishment from her Mother made a difference in this new mother’s attitude. “Whether you want this child or not, he’s here. He deserves a mother who cares about him. He didn’t come here of his own free will.” She responded by turning her face to the wall. “You kids throw your bodies into the fire like they’re nothing special at all, and then out the ashes come the children. God help us. God help you. Rather than listen to another sermon, she sat by the incubator; watching this strange thing struggle to live. She dared not tell anyone she hoped it would die. Die. The baby came home with her two weeks later, wrapped up and carried by its grandmother. She had refused to hold or name it. The hospital bill had to be paid in installments. She knew how hard it was on her mother’s finances. She applied for welfare. The girl watched how fast the strange thing grew. Each day his looks steadily evolved into a remarkable resemblance of his father. Her son had the same wavy hair and caramel eyes, same full lips. Sometimes when the child waddled toward her, she fought the inclination to strike him or shove him away. The hatefulness of those thoughts frightened her. So, she always kept her distance. When he would cling to her legs or try to kiss her, she instinctively pry his moist little fingers away. The more she withheld herself the more the child seemed to clutch at her, always pleading with those eyes. Those damned eyes. When she looked into those eyes she felt as if he was trying to suck the very life from her. Sometimes his closeness made it hard to breathe. She fought back the need to gag as though she were choking when she could smell the scent of his father’s skin in her nostrils. Who could she tell? How could she find the words to say what frightened her to think? If only she never had him, she could have gone to school, graduated, maybe gone to college, like a lot of the girls were doing. Even Alice Green got accepted to Moorehouse College. Her mother told her that her child was very smart. Hes a good boy-a smart boy. He loves his Mama. Lord, that child is crazy about you! It was a thing that couldn’t die. In his short life, the boy had Whooping Cough, Measles, and bouts of Asthma. He could die if she weren’t careful, the Doctor warned. But he didn’t. He lived through those diseases and ailments and other near death episodes. It was as though he lived to spite her. One day when he was seven he walked up to her and asked her why she didn’t love him. “Why would you say a thing like that? All mothers love their children,” she snapped. “How come you never look at me or smile at me? How come you never play with me like Grandma does or talk nice to me like other Mommies do with their kids?” he asked plaintively, lifting his hand to touch her face. She turned away. “Don’t talk nonsense!” “If I knew what I did to make you mean to me, if I knew then maybe I could change myself. Would you love me then?” said the boy. “If you would tell me, I’d do anything. Would you love me then, Mommy?” “Anything?” she said turning to his inquiring face. She noticed for the first time that the child had a small black mole at the corner of his upper lip. It sat on the same place as hers on her face. She looked at him again, really looked at him. For a moment a tenderness entered her heart. But she stilled it and she remembered how the child had come to be and she was angry again. The boy shivered as stood beneath her gaze. Mommy?” he whispered. “Would you really do whatever I asked you? She said. “Yes, Mommy. Anything for you. Just tell me,” said the boy brightening. “People say that all the time that they love you but they are only lying. I can’t stand liars.” “I know, Mommy. I’ll prove I love you.” “Will you? Because that’s a very hard thing for a little boy to do.” “I can do it, Mommy cause I’m a big boy now.” The Child said straightening to his full height. The Mother leaned forward and put her lips to the boy’s ear and whispered. He looked up first confusion and then nodding tears began to fill his eyes. “Then will you love me?” he asked. She nodded. The Child was so happy, before his mother could turn away, he leaped into her arms, threw his arms around her neck and rained kisses all over her face, her eyes, her nose, until she giggled. Then he ran away. The next morning when her Mother sent her to wake the Child for breakfast, he did not stir. “Kiki, get that boy up, he got school,” yelled her Mother from the kitchen. The Girl shook the Boy again and again. Then for the first time noticed how cold he was. “Kiki! “ Her Mother came fussing down the hallway to the bathroom and stopped. Kiki fell beside the bed as something began to rise inside her, something bitter, something hard and disturbing clawed its way up through her throat like the blade of a knife, ripping open a gaping wound at the center of her soul. She shook the child again and again, hysteria rising as she shook and shook him/ “Anthony?” she cried. “Oh sweet, Jesus,” moaned her mother. “Anthony?” “… oh, Lord have mercy,” cried the grandmother and stretched out her hand to the boy. Kiki keep shaking the Child as if he would finally wake up. But then she knew he wouldn’t. She laid his down again, tenderly. She looked up at her mother for help. And then she said: My baby’s dead. Her mother nodded. “But he didn’t die in pain. Look at that sweet smile on his face. He looks just like an angel. Then the mother howled in the deepest of sorrows. Outside the school bell rang and the sound of children chattering and giggling on their way to school, marked the beginning of another “normal day” on the Boulevard.
Posted on: Tue, 11 Mar 2014 11:34:10 +0000
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