“Mary? Yuh okay? Mary what . . . MARY!”
The piss runs out of me and my socks soak it up like a sponge.
I had a dream Herbert came to my room last night. He had big sparkly green wings the size of elephant ears and glowed like a lightning bug. He told me he was visiting from heaven. I asked him what it was like. He said it’s just like I imagined. I asked him if he saw Alyssa there. He said yes. I asked him if she was mad at me, and he didn’t say nothing at all.
“Chuh! One week in di hospital and they ready to kick her out. Dis what meh tax dollars pay for?” Ms. Claire shouts and sucks her teeth. “Is that house safe?”
They’re talking in the hall about me while I finish dinner. Turkey slices with gravy, mashed potatoes, string beans, chicken noodle soup, and a pudding cup. Same type of food they serve in the nursing home. It makes me think of Ted. I lost my phone somewhere between the fall and the hospital. He has no idea what happened. Probably thinks I changed my mind.
“Kelly’s been transferred to Crossroads and Sarah’s at Bellevue,” Winters says. “Psych evaluation.”
“But is the house safe for Mary?” Ms. Cora asks. “It wasn’t just those two tormenting her.”
“She’ll have a new placement by the end of the month,” my temporary social worker says. She looks like she graduated high school yesterday. “With a facility that specializes in teen mothers, if she chooses to keep her baby.”
“‘If’? Who said anything about ‘if’?” Ms. Cora says, voice rising.
“Well, there’s a lot involved in that,” Winters says.
“You still don’t think she’s capable of raising her own child?”
“I’m not one to say. But I think there’s a lot of things that neither one of us knows about her.”
“And it’s always going to be about the best interest of the child,” Social Worker adds.
“I can’t believe you fucking idiots!” Ms. Cora says.
“Hey! Watch it,” Winters warns. “You know you don’t really have any authority to make any decision here. You’re not even family!”
“I’m speaking for my client, who’s in the process of being emancipated from you assholes. I got enough damn authority to make your lives hell that’s for—”
“Listen, I get it, okay!” Winters says. “All I’m saying is . . . she may not be in the best condition to raise a child . . . right now. Just for right now, not that she never could! She needs to be healthy for that baby and stand on her own two feet first. Think about it, she has no one to claim her, no money, barely has a place to live. And just a couple of weeks ago they reported she was hearing voices and—”
“You know what,” Social Worker shouts. “Can we just focus on the immediate situation at the moment?”
Ms. Cora and Winters mutter to themselves.
“Honestly, it’s the best place for her right now. Everywhere else is booked. No one can take the overflow of a girl in her condition. Now, the doctor said she must be on strict bed rest to avoid possible premature labor. So I don’t think it’s a good idea to move her to a new facility, one she’s unfamiliar with, until she’s well enough to walk on her own. Stein is under investigation, so she’ll be on her best behavior. Mary will have her own room and we’ll arrange for daily nurse visits.”
They all fall silent. I wonder what that means, Ms. Stein is under investigation. Is she gonna be fired? I hope so.
“Okay, fine!” Ms. Cora barks. “But if one hair is out of place, so help me, I’ll—”
“I know, alright!” Winters snaps. “Jesus, woman! Where’d she dig you up from?”
New Girl’s bed is empty. No sheets or pillows. Just a green plastic mattress like no one has ever lived there before. But I’ll never forget her. I’ll never forget the look in her eyes when I went flying down the stairs. She was smiling, a big nasty grin. Wonder what they’re going to do to her?
“I can’t believe they pushed her down the stairs and that crazy bitch lived!”
“Yo, shut up, Kisha,” China says. “That shit was fucked up, she could’ve died. She almost lost her baby.”
“Well, what she do to them to make them do that?” Kisha asks. “You know she always starting something!”
“Nothing,” China barks. “She didn’t do nothing! And y’all know that.”
“Nah, that bitch is loco,” Marisol says.
“China, you even said you caught her walking around the house naked,” Kisha says.
“But yo, did you see her eye though? That shit is nasty!” Joi giggles.
My interaction with the rest of the house is limited. I stay in my room, an outcast among outcasts. Other than a nurse who stops by to check on me and Ms. Reba bringing up my meals, I don’t see anyone else. Ms. Stein is smart enough to keep her distance.
The doctors were very serious about bed rest. Too much movement and Bean could die. So I keep my feet up and if I’m not sleeping, I’m staring at the ceiling, daydreaming about Alyssa.
Ms. Claire came by to visit. She brought me some SAT flash cards and a new book on how to get into college.
“For when yuh get back on yuh feet.”
Even back on my feet, I’m not sure if it will help or if it was even worth it. Winters is right. I can’t raise a baby like this. No money. No job. Not even a place to live. And the way the case is going so slow, I’ll be seventeen or older by the time they make a decision. Bean will be born. They’ll take him. Put him in a home with some strangers. Strangers like Ms. Stein; that’s what scares me most. There are thousands of Ms. Steins out there, thousands of Mommas, thousands of Rays, all waiting to take Bean and repeat history. No one will believe him. He’ll cry for me, his real momma, and I won’t be able to help him. I won’t know where he is or how to find him. So many ways he could be hurt. I won’t be able to protect him once he is out of my belly. So I keep my feet up, trying to stop him from coming too quick.
But then there is Alyssa. If I wasn’t in her life at all, she’d still be here. I don’t blame them for trying to take Bean. Maybe Bean would be better off without me. Maybe the greatest gift I can give him, the only way to keep him safe, is to keep him away from me.
And then I’ll be alone. Forever.
My knee still hurts a little but my ankle is much better. I can flex it more than I could two weeks ago. The broken blood vessel in my eye is starting to clear up, but I avoid mirrors to stop scaring myself. I’m healing slowly on the outside, but inside, all that’s left that matters is Bean. Everything else is dead.
The doorbell rings. It’s one of two people, the nurse or Winters. He comes to check on me almost every day now. Brought me a piece of his daughter’s birthday cake after the party. It tasted like nothing.
“Where is she?” I hear him scream downstairs. Bean jumps at the sound of his voice.
Ted?
“Whoa there, young man,” Ms. Reba says. “Who are you here to see?”
I hear China walk into the foyer.
“Oh, I know you. You’re Kisha’s boyfriend, right? She’s upstairs.”
“What?” Ted snaps. “Kisha? Nah. Where’s Mary?”
“Mary?” Ms. Reba and China say together.
“Yo, Mary!” he calls.
“Hey! Cut that out! It’s time for you to go.”
“Mary! Mary, where you at!”
My heart cries out for him, hands trembling, mouth fixed to say his name but locked tight. Should I go to him? No, I can’t.
“I’m calling the police!”
“Wait, Reba, see what he wants first.”
“I want to see Mary! Where she at?”
I wish the floor would swallow me up, straight down to the basement. He can’t be here. They can’t know.
“Hey! What’s going on?” Kisha says, running down the stairs. “Who called my name?”
“I want Mary. Where is she? Is she dead?”
No one responds. Everyone is at a loss for words.
“Which one of you bitches did it? Huh! Which one of y
ou killed her?” Ted’s voice cracks, and I want to run and comfort him. But I can’t. He can’t be here.
“Now just calm down, alright! What do you want with Mary?” Ms. Reba asks.
“Mary’s my . . .”
No Ted. No! We’re gonna get caught.
Joi busts into my room.
“There’s a boy here to see you!” she grins. “Is that your baby daddy? He’s cute!”
I don’t move or say a word. Ms. Reba comes upstairs.
“Mary? Ummm . . . some boy downstairs is here to see you. Says he knows you. You know you can’t have male visitors here. No one except Winters.”
I roll away from her. This is stupid. Ted is risking getting caught, throwing our business out in front of the people I trust least in the world.
“I don’t know him,” I mumble.
“Mary!” he screams from downstairs. “I swear I will light this motherfucker up, if you don’t let me see her!”
Ms. Reba clears her throat. “Uhhh, Mary?”
Ted won’t go away till he sees me. I know him. He’ll tear the house apart.
“I can’t walk downstairs.”
Ms. Reba looks at Joi, then at me.
“Well, he can’t come up here. You know you can’t have boys in your room!”
“Just give me five minutes,” I say.
“No way! No!”
“Please,” I beg. Because it’s Ted, it’s the only time I’ll beg Ms. Reba for anything.
“Where is she?” Ted shouts, sounding louder now that the door is open. “I’m not fucking playing with y’all!”
Ms. Reba looks torn, scratching her graying dry hair.
“Come on, Reba!” Joi says, grinning. “Ms. Stein ain’t even here. Who’s gonna know? Live a little!”
Ms. Reba hesitates, then sighs.
“Okay, fine. But only five minutes.”
Once they’re gone, I straighten up in bed, pulling my shirt down over Bean. I tie my hair back, licking my hand to smooth down the edges, wishing I had some of Momma’s makeup to make me look pretty.
Ted rushes in the room. Just the sight of him and my body eases out of a tense hold. It’s been so long, I can feel every muscle melt down to normal. One look at me and his mouth drops. My eyes water up, ready to tumble over. Didn’t think I was that bad. He eases near me and tips my chin up, staring into my bloody eye. Anger radiates off his body like a heater. He doesn’t say nothing for a long time, just stands there, hands trembling, until they ball into fists. Then he turns to the crowd of girls standing in the doorway.
“Which one of you bitches did it?”
“Who you calling a bitch!” Kisha snaps.
“It was the new girl,” Joi says. “She pushed her down the stairs. But she ain’t here no more.”
Ted stomps over and slams the door in their faces, locking it. He sits on the edge of my bed, staring at me, looking over and over again at my injuries.
“I thought you . . . changed your mind.”
There’s so much I want to say, so much I want to tell him. But all the emotions I’ve held back the last few months come tumbling out my eyes as I crumble.
“Damn, baby,” he says, scooping me up into his arms. I melt into him, hissing away the pain in my knee. He’s the most powerful pain reliever I’ve ever known. My arm doesn’t hurt and my ankle feels fine.
We sit for a long time with me crying into his chest. Crying like I’ve never cried a day in my life. Finally, my senses return.
“You can’t stay.” I sniff. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
He rubs his nose in my hair and inhales.
“We should have left a long time ago,” he says, so much regret in his voice.
“It’s not your fault.”
“You could’ve been killed. And Bean.”
He holds me tighter, kissing my eyelids with his soft lips.
“Social services called the nursing home yesterday,” he says. “I overheard them talking about you. I didn’t know what happened! I was waiting at the train station for mad long.”
He rubs his big hands around my stomach. I clasp my little ones over them. We look like night and day, black and white, my skin so light compared to his.
“Ted, you can’t be here. They’ll—”
“I know, aight? Don’t worry about them. But how we gonna get you out of here, baby? You can’t even walk right.”
He still thinks we’re running away. He still thinks we have a chance.
“Ted, I’m . . . leaving.”
He pulls away from my neck to look at me.
“What you mean?” he asks.
“When I get better, they’re sending me to this place upstate. For girls like me.”
“Upstate?” he says, like it’s a foreign country. He mulls the idea over for a bit, stroking my arms. “Aight, I guess I’ll just visit you there. Gotta be on the weekend though, at least till the baby is born.”
For Ted, it’s just that simple. He’s a man of action. Something needs to be done, he never asks questions or complains or worries about the consequences. That, unfortunately, is my job.
“No. You can’t. They’ll ask questions. And then they’ll know about you. About us.”
Ted frowns, his body tense but his arms still wrapped around me like a warm blanket.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying . . . I can’t see you . . . for a while.”
This doesn’t settle with him well. He jumps up and I pretend the movement doesn’t cause me to suck in a breath and see stars at the pain. Then he starts to argue all the ways it could work, yelling and cursing. I let him vent, but the facts are not going to change. Ted is now nineteen and I am sixteen. We’re both parolees, both on our last life.
I’ve been thinking a lot, on my back staring at the ceiling, and the truth is we may not win. All Ms. Cora’s hard work may be for nothing because we may still lose one way or another. They’ll take away Bean and throw me back in baby jail for being crazy. But if they know about Ted, not only will I lose Bean, but they’ll take away the only person that has ever really loved me. It sucks, but I have to do what’s best for both my boys.
“You’ve already done enough just coming here,” I say. “They know your face now.”
He curses again and sits on New Girl’s bed, the stress making deep wrinkles on his forehead.
“So when then?”
“When what?” I say.
“When can I see you again?” he snaps.
It’s hard to lie to those big brown eyes. So I tell him the truth.
“I don’t know.”
Ted glares at me, like he wants to be mad. He knows I’m right and he wants to hate me for it. But Ted can’t hate me, it’s impossible for him. That is how I know it hurts him more. He can’t hate me but he can’t have me. He runs his hands down his face, falls on his knees in front of me, and buries his face into my stomach, holding and kissing Bean like his life is ending. In a way, it is.
There is a light rap on the door. We ignore it until it becomes a badgering knock.
“Mary! Time’s up,” Ms. Reba shouts. “He has to go! Now!”
Ted looks up at me. His eyes. That’s what I’ll miss the most. Maybe Bean will have his eyes. But it will be years before I ever know.
“It’s a boy,” I say, and try to comfort the blow with a smile. Ted bites a trembling lip, eyes watering. He exhales and kisses me. His lips, I’ll miss those too.
“Yo, promise me you’ll fight,” he says. “That you won’t give up. And if you get to keep Bean, you’ll tell me.”
“I promise,” I lie and hug him one last time.
Excerpt from The Devil Inside: The Mary B. Addison Story
by Jude Mitchell (pg. 223)
When talking about Mary as a baby, Dawn Cooper once said, “Most folks think I named her Mary after Jesus’s mother. But no, I named her Mary Beth, as in Mary of Bethany. Mary sat by Jesus’s feet and listened to his words instead of helping her sister with prepa
ration for dinner. She knew that nothing should ever come before the Lord!
“Jesus also brought her brother back from the dead.
“But really, I named her Mary Beth after my mother, Miryam. It means ‘a wished-for child.’”
My knee and ankle are a lot better now. I can walk to the bathroom without a crutch. Major improvement, the nurse told me yesterday. That means no more visits, which is fine by me. I have bigger things to worry about. At least now I’m allowed out of bed.
I take the bus to the Q train, then walk three blocks to her apartment building, up the shiny elevator with the big mirrors. I remember fogging the mirrors with my nose while Momma straightened the ribbons in my pigtails as we rode up. The bell dings on the sixth floor and I knock on the last door to the right. She is not even surprised to see me. She just lets me right in.
The apartment is the same, but seems so much smaller and darker with this thick layer of dust covering everything in sight. I mean, one good sneeze would clean up the whole place. Smells mad stale too, like the windows haven’t been opened in years, maybe longer. Stacks of newspapers and magazines tower on every surface, overcrowded ashtrays sit on sofa arms. And the Christmas tree—the one with the white lights and red and gold bulbs—is still there, in the corner by the window. She put it there so everyone could see how beautiful her tree was. But now, the tree is a bare stick, dried up pine needles surrounding it like ashes, ornaments rusted. The gifts underneath, once wrapped in green glitter paper, are faded almost to yellow.
Wonder if my gift is still there?
This is not how it used to be. Before, it was roomy and light. Always smelling like fresh laundry and cinnamon sugar from the apple pies she used to bake.
“Do you want to see it?” Mrs. Richardson asks with a sniff. She’s wearing bleach-stained sweatpants and a wrinkled T-shirt. No more fancy dresses.
I nod and she opens the first door on the left. Alyssa’s room.
It’s exactly as I left it. Candy-pink walls, with yellow elephants and giraffes, a dark wood crib with pink sheets and a changing table. Baby books. Toys. A picture hung over the crib of Alyssa, one day old. Another picture, her in a red romper, the same picture on the cover of the book about us, sits on the dresser.
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