by Carl Weber
“I fucked up, man. I got her pregnant. But I’m gonna be there to take care of her and the kid.”
Kyle sighed. “You really love this chick, don’t you?”
“Yep, but I told you that five months ago.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t believe you ’til now. But if you’re willing to let your teenage mistress have a baby, you’re either stupid or in love.”
“Both,” I told him with a smile. “Look, man, the reason I needed to see you is that I need a favor.”
“What’s up? What d’you need?”
“I need to borrow three grand until I can sell my bike.”
“Three grand? For what?” Kyle sat back and folded his arms.
“Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies.” I looked at him, making sure we made eye contact. “I need the money, Kyle, and I’m asking for it on the strength of our friendship. Trust me, you don’t wanna know what I need it for, but I swear I’m not gonna do anything illegal with it. I’m just in a jam.
“You sure that baby she’s carrying is yours?”
“I need the money, Kyle,” I pleaded in my most sincere voice.
He stared at me for a few seconds, smoothing his mustache like he was deep in thought. The suspense was killing me.
“Okay,” he finally nodded, reaching into his suit jacket for his checkbook. “You can have the three grand on the strength of our friendship, but you’re right, I don’t wanna know what you’re up to. And if Kenya asks, you did not get this money from me. I got enough women on my ass as it is right now. I really don’t need your wife to join the club.” He placed his checkbook on the table and wrote out a check. He handed it to me and I looked at it with a grateful smile. Kyle’s cell phone started ringing before I could thank him.
“Hello? Hello?” Kyle checked the Caller ID then spoke again. “Hello ... Hello? Dammit.” He flipped the phone closed.
“Who was that?”
“I don’t know. Somebody keeps calling me at home but they never say a damn thing. Now they’re calling on my cell. I swear this shit is starting to piss me off.”
“You checked your Caller ID, didn’t you?”
“Hell, yeah. The number keeps coming up restricted.”
“Well, anyway, thanks for the loan. I’ll get it back to you as soon as I sell the bike.” I hated the thought of selling my bike, but Tracy had to come first.
“Just be glad that Wil found a cheap apartment in my building or I wouldn’t be able to loan you shit. I just loaned him three grand.” Kyle shook his head.
“You loaned Wil money to get an apartment?”
“Yeah, I loaned him money. I had to. Have you seen him lately? The brother had to’ve lost twenty pounds in the last month. He looks like shit.”
“What happened to him?” I felt bad that I hadn’t seen Wil in so long.
“Diane’s what happened to him. Wil thought that if he paid the bills and handled his business like he was still living there that she was gonna come around after a while. Well, guess what? She didn’t. She’s got him paying out the ass so much he came to me looking for a part-time job.”
“Get the fuck outta here. Wil asked you for a part-time job?” I have to admit I was shocked. Wil was one of those brothers with a lot of pride.
“Yep. You know that fool signed an agreement to give her damn near eighty percent of his salary? And had the nerve to blame it on me.”
“Blame it on you? Why?”
“Because Diane showed him my separation agreement. Somehow she convinced him that he would have to pay out as much as me. She just forgot to mention that I make ten times what Wil does.”
“Damn! Eighty percent of his salary?” I made a face. “She wants his ass broke.”
“That’s what I been trying to tell him.”
“Well, he needs to talk to her then.”
“He did. She said if he breaks their agreement, he can’t see his kids and she’s gonna take his ass to court.”
“Fuck it! Let her take him to court. Shit, I bet the judge reduces what he’s gotta pay out and gives him visitation anyway.”
“I told him that shit. Matter of fact, I told him I’d get my lawyer to represent him.”
“Well, that’s good. What he say?”
“He said ain’t no white man gonna tell him how to take care of his family.”
“I heard that, but that’s not changing the fact that he’s broke. Man, if Wil would let me do my thing, I could fix all this shit. Gimme a couple a days and he and Diane will be back together.” Kyle didn’t answer me because his phone went off again. It’s probably a good thing, though. What I had planned was no joke and would never work without Wil’s permission. I had to give it some more thought before I discussed it with anyone else.
“Hello?” He looked at the Caller ID again. “Dammit! I know this is you, Val. I can see the Roadhouse’s number on my Caller ID. Stop playing fucking games.” He hung up. “This shit is ridiculous. Look, Jay. I’m gonna head on home. I’ll catch you later.”
“Aw’ight, man, but be careful. You might wanna stay away from Val. Rumor has it she’s hanging out with that crazy-ass Terrance again.”
“Don’t worry. I ain’t fucking with that big motherfucker.”
“Hey, Kyle, thanks again.” I waved the check at him and he nodded as he stood to leave.
34
Allen
It was a little after 6 P.M. when I walked up the steps to our apartment. I’d left work a little early so that I could get home and play with my son Jonathan. Let me tell you, he was only three weeks old, but that little boy was my life. I had so many plans for him. I just couldn’t wait till he was old enough to play catch in the backyard or shoot hoops in the park. Not to mention what it was going to be like to take him to his first Knicks or Yankees game, or see his smile when I take him to Disney World. Yes sir, I was one of those fathers who planned on reliving my childhood through my son, and I couldn’t wait. I honestly could not wait.
I placed my key in the door and I could hear Jonathan crying before I opened it. I’d be lying if I said it was the first time I’d come home to that. I just couldn’t understand why the hell it was so hard for Rose to pick him up and give him the attention he needed. I’d always thought being maternal was built into a woman, but Rose had proven that theory wrong. The way she treated our son was more like he was her pet than her child. All she wanted to do was show him off to everyone. The minute there was no one around to impress, you’d think she’d never given birth to him. It’s a damn shame, but any affection or nurturing he got came from me and Ma.
When I opened the door, I could hardly believe my eyes or ears. Rose was sitting on the living room sofa watching Ricki Lake and eating a box of chocolates like she didn’t have a care in the world. She was fully made up and dressed like she was getting ready to go out on the town. I don’t even think she realized that I walked in the door or that her son was crying at the top of his lungs, she was so preoccupied with her television show. And that pissed me off.
“Can’t you hear him? He’s screaming!” I yelled. I gave her an angry look but she ignored me and continued to watch TV until a commercial came on.
“It’s good for him to cry a little bit, Allen. You don’t wanna spoil him, do you?” I rolled my eyes at her and quickly walked toward the nursery and my screaming child. I’m sorry, I love Rose, but there has to be something wrong with a woman who can just sit around and listen to her newborn child screaming at the top of his lungs in the next room.
“Hey there, little man. Don’t cry. Daddy’s here.” I gently picked up my son and kissed him. His entire face was a beet red and he felt a little warm, but I figured it was because he was crying. I reached into his crib and picked up his bottle, placing the nipple in his mouth. He calmed down right away. He was just hungry. I walked back in the living room holding him. “Would this have been so hard to do?” I had sarcasm in my voice, which made Rose roll her eyes again.
“Please, Allen, ain’t n
obody holdin’ no baby all damn day. Besides I got a headache.” Rose’s voice and body language showed all kinda attitude. “That little nigga cried all day long, and now he has the nerve to stop when you come home. You need to put his ass down. That’s why he’s so damn spoiled, ’cause you and your mama always picking him up.” She sucked her teeth and both of us made evil eyes at each other. I didn’t like this side of my wife. I didn’t like it at all, and lately I was seeing more and more of it.
“You know what, Rose? You’re ...” I stopped myself and was about go back in the nursery to finish feeding my child when I spotted a small suitcase lying by the far end of the sofa. I saw Rose step in front of it, trying to conceal it from me. Lord, please don’t tell me she going somewhere, I thought. Especially since I had to go to work in the morning and she was supposed to take Jonathan to a pediatrician’s appointment. He was only three weeks old and had already missed his first appointment. From the message the doctor had left, she’d better not miss this one.
“Going somewhere?”
Rose looked down at the suitcase sheepishly as she answered. “Well, yeah, a lot of the girls from the job are going to Philly to see the D’Angelo concert, and well, Tanya got me a ticket. So I figured I’d go too. It’s only for a couple of days.” She sounded nervous.
“A couple of days?” I yelled, looking at her like she was crazy. “What about Jonathan? Who’s gonna watch him? And just when did you plan on telling me this? After you left?” I paced the floor as I held my son.
“I’m telling you now. And don’t worry about Jonathan. He’ll be all right. Get your mother to watch him. She’s the one who wanted a grandbaby so bad, isn’t she? Or can’t she miss Smackdown one week?”
“Smackdown? You not coming back till after Thursday? I thought you said a couple of days.”
“What I meant to say is I’m not coming back for a week.”
“A week! Are you crazy, Rose? You gonna leave your newborn son for a week? What kind of mother are you?” I stopped pacing and stood staring at her. Yeah, that’s right. I didn’t like arguing, but we were about to have one hell of an argument.
“What do you mean what kind of mother am I? You act like I’m leavin’ him alone. I’m not leaving him alone, Allen. I’m leavin’ him with you! You are his daddy, aren’t you?” She shook her finger in my face and rolled her head around with attitude. Then out of nowhere her stem face turned to a sweet smile, and that scared me. She was like Jekyll and Hyde.
“Look, Allen, I need a break. I’ve been putting up with this boy screaming every time I put him down for two weeks. Now you can be with the program or not, but I’m leaving.” She smiled and kissed my cheek, then picked up her bag.
“You’re really leaving? What about the baby? Doesn’t he have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow?”
“Oh, yeah, he does, doesn’t he?” She looked at me and shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, well, I guess you better cancel it or call in sick tomorrow.” I gave her a look of disbelief. Her response was to give me her best puppy-dog face. “Look, honey, I love you and I’ll call you when I get to Philly, okay?” She walked out that door, and all I could do was watch in disbelief. She hadn’t even kissed Jonathan.
The next morning I called in sick to work. Jonathan’s doctor’s appointment was at eleven o‘clock, so I swung by Ma’s for breakfast around eight. Jonathan had been acting a little cranky and I wasn’t sure if he was sick or just missed Rose. I was hoping Ma might have one of those old-fashioned remedies for calming a baby, and of course she did. It was called a grandmother’s love. Ma took Jonathan from me the minute I walked in the door. She rocked and kissed and fed that boy, then gave him a bath in the kitchen sink. By the time she got through with him it was ten o’clock, and he was dressed and ready to go to the doctor, cooing in her arms.
When we arrived at the doctor’s office, I don’t know why but I had this uneasy feeling, and the receptionist and nurse behind the counter didn’t make me feel any better. They kept staring at Ma and me like they knew something we didn’t. To be honest, I was afraid child welfare was gonna pop up on us at any minute and take Jonathan because he was three weeks old and hadn’t had any of his shots or been to one doctor’s appointment yet. I found out a few minutes later, though, that wasn’t the case at all.
“Mr. Jackson, I’m Dr. Gerba. Why don’t we talk in my office?” The doctor, an average-looking, clean-shaven white man with a receding hairline walked toward a door, gesturing for Ma and me to follow.
We did, and when he closed the door, first thing outta Ma’s mouth was, “Why you got us in your office and not in the examination room?” Dr. Gerba walked behind his desk and sat down.
“Well to be honest with you, Miss ...” Gerba glanced at Ma.
“Mrs. Jackson. Mrs. Audry Jackson. I’m Jonathan’s nana.”
“Okay, well, Mrs. Jackson, we needed to talk about Jonathan before I examine him.”
“Talk about him? What about him?” I asked sternly. If this fool doctor thought he was gonna get me to sit around his office while some nurse reported me and had someone take away my son, he had another thing coming.
“Mr. Jackson, your son has sickle-cell anemia.”
“Lawd have mercy. This can’t be!” Ma shouted. I didn’t say a word. I was still trying to comprehend what the doctor had just told me. How could Jonathan have sickle-cell? He was a normal baby, a perfect baby.
“Where is this coming from? You haven’t even examined him yet.” I gave the doctor a suspicious gaze.
“When your son was born, the hospital ran different blood tests on him just like they do all newborns. We tried to explain to your wife that we really needed her to come in right away when she missed her first appointment, but she just kept saying we’d talk when she brought Jonathan in for his checkup in a week. Of course, you know she missed that appointment, too. I wish we could have told her over the phone but it’s against hospital policy.”
I glanced at Ma and tears were running down her face. I took a deep breath and tried to hold back my own tears.
“Is he gonna be all right? He’s not gonna die, is he?” I looked the doctor directly in the eyes, terrified of what his answer might be.
“Chances are he will be fine. Matter of fact, I had two sickle-cell patients who recently have become parents themselves. Things have changed a lot in the last twenty years and treatment has come a long way. Sickle-cell’s a painful disease, but it’s no longer a death sentence for a child like it once was.” The doctor smiled kindly. “Your son’s going to be fine, Mr. Jackson, but his health will require some vigilance on your part. We’d like to start him on penicillin to keep infection down. Maybe have him come into the hospital a few days to run some tests.”
“Okay, Doctor. I’m putting my trust and faith in you.” I didn’t know what else to do at this point. I had to believe that this man would help my son lead a normal life.
He nodded as he began to explain to us exactly what sickle-cell was and how it could be treated. After about a forty-minute conversation and examination, Dr. Gerba suggested that we take Jonathan right over to the Long Island Jewish Hospital. Jonathan’s low-grade fever and crankiness were telltale signs of infection, the doctor told us. Jonathan really needed to be placed on intravenous antibiotics to prevent any serious complications.
I watched those doctors and nurse at that hospital stick and probe my son for hours before they finally stopped around 8 P.M. They had poor Jonathan looking like something out of a Star Trek movie, he had so many different tubes and wires coming out of his arms and legs. It felt like they were sticking me every time they jabbed something into him. In my life I’d never imagined anything more painful than standing back helpless while your child is suffering.
Later that night I came home to pack up some clothes and a few toys for Jonathan. Ma was at the hospital with him, so I decided to stick around the house for a few hours hoping Rose would call. She’d called twice while we were gone but never left a number where she co
uld be reached. I can’t tell you how frustrating it was to have my son sitting in that fucking hospital with sickle-cell anemia and not being able to contact his mother. For the first time since we’d been married I was starting to understand why people thought Rose was such a selfish bitch. I mean, what kinda woman would just disappear without leaving a number where she could be reached when she had a three-week-old baby at home?
I slammed my hand down on the coffee table. I couldn’t take it anymore. What I really needed was someone to talk to, someone who would listen to me and not be judgmental. I wanted to call Kyle or Wil, but that wouldn’t work. As much as I loved them, they wouldn’t understand. Especially Kyle. Lately he couldn’t stand to hear Rose’s name. So I decided to call Cinnamon.
I went into the bedroom and placed my sock drawer on the bed. Then I bent down and reached into the space where the drawer had been. I pulled out the Express Mail envelope Cinnamon had sent, emptying the contents onto the bed. I stared at the two smaller envelopes that fell out. I was about to read Cinnamon’s letter again, but the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Allen, it’s Rose. Where’ve you been, baby? I’ve been calling you all day.” Would you believe she sounded sincere about that shit? “I even called you mother’s house.”
“Where have I been? Where have I been? I’ve been at the fucking hospital! That’s where I’ve been!” I’d never been so upset in my life. “Where the hell have you been? Jonathan’s sick. He needs his mother.”
“Oh, please, Allen, don’t start. I already have a headache, okay? You gonna tell me you can’t handle a little cold for a few days?”
“He doesn’t have a cold, Rose. He has sickle-cell anemia.” The line was silent and I expected her to cry or yell or something, but she didn’t. I was floored by how nonchalant her response was.
“Don’t worry, Allen. My cousin has sickle-cell, and she’s fine.” Rose was actually taking the news like it really was just a temporary cold. “You didn’t call my parents, did you?”