Natasha
PART THREE
October 11, 1990
Dear Natasha,
I know it’s only been about two weeks since the last time you wrote me, but in here, two weeks seem like two years. Time means nothing cause contrary to popular belief things don’t get better with time in here, but time means everything cause when it’s finally over things will all be better. Sometimes I feel like the only thing I have to do is wait for you, like a kid waiting for Christmas or a dead tree waiting on spring. I count the days til I see your smile again, til I can poke my middle finger in that dimple on your left cheek and make you laugh, when I can see what kind of hairstyle you rocking or what color you painted your toes. Work is cool although it’s boring as Sunday school. Well, maybe not as boring as Sunday school cause that shit is pretty damn boring. Few times my mother did make me go, I fell asleep and was snoring and slobbing till she slapped me awake. But it’s just a little bit repetitive cause I’m responsible for the same wing. It ain’t hard really, just mopping up the floors and wiping down the showers. Not as nasty as I thought it would be cause we always do a pretty good job of keeping things up. I got my books. I finished the Malcolm X book and now Mohammed got me reading Soul on Ice by this man named Eldridge Cleaver. Ms. Harris like my Catcher in the Rye paper so she gave me a bunch of other books she thought I might like, The Outsiders which I was supposed to read for Mr. Cook and this book called The Jungle about these poor warehouse workers in slaughterhouses and shit.
Thank you for all the Fresh mags you been sending me. Benito made me put Janet and Lisa Lisa and Salt on my wall (Benito got Pepa cause he like her thighs). But anyway I got my classes, which is going pretty good. I’m learning about all that shit I never bothered to pay attention to in school, like the Boston Tea Party and the Constitution and whatever. I wanna get my GED by January so I can start some correspondence courses and get a college degree. Ms. Harris really like me a lot, bringing me all these pamphlets and shit from different schools cross the country. What you think about me being a veterinarian? You think I could do that baby? It would be long and hard, but I think I could do it. I ain’t told nobody I was thinking about it but you and Ms. Harris. Well, Benito’s crazy ass, but what he know?
I told him, Benito I like science. I was always feeling it in school but I wasn’t trying to be a nerd or no shit like that. Benito was like, What you know about working with animals? I told him I live with you, don’t I? Benito one of them cats ain’t got no problems laughing at himself, so he thought that shit was funny. But I told him I don’t know shit, but that was the point of going to school, to learn. He said some shit like You ain’t just gonna be dealing with dogs and cats you gonna have to deal with everything—snakes, horses … I saw on the animal planet where they had to give a elephant at the Bronx Zoo an enema. I thought that shit was so funny. I couldn’t stop laughing. I laughed until tears came down from my eyes and my stomach was hurting and I started choking on the flaming hot Cheetos you know I eat every day. Can you imagine me giving a elephant an enema? A grown man sticking his hands up in an elephant’s ass? I asked Benito that question and he said that he had already seen it, the other day in the showers before he left to give the perpetrators some privacy. I swear, Benito is one cool Rican. It feels good to have somebody to make me laugh.
I miss laughing as much as I used to. I miss hearing rain fall on the fire escape. I miss my aunt’s sweet potato pie and half-n-halfs at Manna’s. I miss sipping brew on the stoop with my daddy and the other old cats I used to look up to. I miss hearing the Mister Softee truck and basketballs bouncing on real cement. I miss wilding out in the Jackie Robinson pool, dunking you and scaring you cause you can’t swim and trying to kiss your breasts under the water. I miss seeing my mother’s face. I miss you.
Love,
Antonio
October 20, 1990
Dear Antonio,
You’re right that it seem like more and more time does pass now between our letters, but the truth is, baby, time is tight for me right now. I got back to Harlem and things been moving full speed ahead since then. The block, the apartment, school, everything looks so much smaller than it did before I left. It don’t even take me that long to walk down 125th Street anymore, and I used to think that was the longest street in the world. Laneice been stressing me out with all this baby shit. She done went from talking bout Black all the time to talking about shorties and shopping for shorties and I don’t want to hear it cause I’m trying to maintain and I got problems of my own. This SAT class is kicking my ass and I might have to cut my hours back, which mean I’m gonna have less cheddar. Mommy’s really serious about this house thing and she been trying to get her shit together. I went downtown with her twice to talk to people at banks and we even went to HUD. Remember Housing and Urban Development that we learned about in school?
I haven’t been out of Harlem with Ma in a very long time, and it was nice. We walked around a little bit downtown on Canal Street where she bought me some earrings and a new LV bag, from the vendors. We held hands cause of all the people pushing and shoving past each other trying to get from point A to point B. She getting excited about everything. She told me she gonna make us a family again. She told me, “Natasha, I gave birth to both my kids, not just one, so it ain’t right for my only son not to be under my roof, for me not to be seeing his face every morning and kissing him at night.” I told her, “Mommy don’t worry. Everything gonna be alright. Me and you gonna do this together. I’m gonna help you with all the paperwork and all the forms and looking for the furniture. We can go up to 125th and get those pretty African sculptures and those paintings of stuff like black men holding their kids and black women with them real colorful wraps on their head.” She just laughed at me when we had finally walked down all of Canal, almost to the Manhattan Bridge going to Brooklyn. She was like, “You make it all sound so easy.” I snapped my fingers and told her, “It is easy. Let’s just do this and be out!” She told me, “Kids always think everything is so easy, but it’s a lot you all never know.” I wanted to tell her, “Mommy, I ain’t no kid no more. I ain’t got a daddy or a big brother to fight my battles—I gotta fight them myself. I got a job, I done traveled around the world all by myself with no one to help me, I’m going to college soon, and most important I got a man locked up and that’ll make a woman outta any girl.” But I knew she wouldn’t understand all that. She don’t see I had to grow up fast too, the way she always tell me she had to grow up. I knew she would just laugh and think I was still the same little Natasha blowing bubbles off the fire escape and almost falling to the street trying to catch em.
But I say all this, Antonio, to say that I guess I just don’t have the time I used to have. It’s not the summertime no more, I can’t spend my whole day writing letters. It’s just not possible, specially with this program making me come to City College every Tuesday and Thursday night for this SAT class for college. I gotta take the test soon so I can apply to college by January and February which is when most of the deadlines are. So I’m just handling my business the same way you handling yours, it’s just that I don’t have all the time you have, with school and work and everything. Long as I keep handling my biz, I can keep my mind off you and thinking about everything you must be going through. I miss you too baby, and I’m just trying to keep it together til we can be together again. I’m riding up there with your ma in two weeks. Laneice and Black wanna come with us. She swelling already believe it or not, and it’s only been three months. They say they want me and you to be the godmother and godfather. What you think about that baby? Being godparents until we get our own?
Love your baby mama (future),
Natasha
October 22, 1990
Dear Ms. Harris,
The reason I didn’t show up for my tutoring today was cause I was feeling too down to face the world. I went to work, mess hall, showers. Work is a bitch cause it’s freezing in the work room and they won’t give us no heat. Just d
id the shit I had to do cause I had to do it. I know I got to keep up with my classes, but that’s the one thing these motherfuckers don’t care if I do or not.
Last night I had a dream I was back on the outside and my mother gave me a party at the house. I could smell food but I couldn’t see it—fried chicken mostly, some apple pie and biscuits and my favorite banana pudding. It was one of them big WELCOME HOME signs hanging from wall to wall in the living room and it said BY TYLER AND TREVON at the bottom. And everybody in the whole world who I know by name was there—you, my girl, people from school, my lawyer, the detectives that came to pick me up, the warden, my teacher Mr. Cook, them guys MGD and Mookie I had told you about, Benito, Mohammed, my brothers and aunts and cousins and neighbors. I mean, not they whole body cause we only got two bedrooms and a tiny kitchen and it’s only so much that can fit. But it was like they was there and I felt them and I saw everybody’s face floating in the air, so thin and shadowlike that I could put my hand through it, poke my fingers through their eyes and mouth without them frowning or squinting. My body felt weak and loose, like while I was walking parts of me was falling off, hitting the ground without a sound. I didn’t care about picking them up and saving them for later so a doctor could put em back on.
There was only one person who was there and whole in the flesh. It was my daddy, sitting on the couch with the remote in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. He had on this checkered robe me and my brothers bought him up at Harlem Mart for Father’s Day. I think he was naked up under it cause it was open so I could see far up his thighs and his stomach rolling soft and yellow like a little puppy’s belly. And he looked at me and smiled, and said, Tony you want me to cook you some eggs? You want some eggs? And I smiled cause Daddy ain’t called me Tony since I was a little boy. And I said while I heard all the people in the world talking and laughing and singing old songs I knew, Yeah Daddy that sound good. And he put down his drink and tied up his robe and got up and pat my shoulder real quick and soft when he passed me and said Okay Tony I’ll fix you some eggs.
November 7, 1990
Dear Antonio:
I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to respond to your letter. I don’t know if I had told you that I was getting married, but I had my wedding on October 28 and I have been on my honeymoon. My husband and I have been in Trinidad where he’s originally from. We were visiting his parents and we just returned Sunday. I had a beautiful time and can tell you all about this wonderful country when I next see you. It’s definitely a place that I would recommend you visit in your lifetime. But back to your letter. Antonio, please don’t beat yourself up about missing class. As a matter of fact, the tutors told me that you have not shown up for the last three classes. Antonio, you were doing really well and I know that with your natural intelligence and some disciplined studying, you could have your GED by the end of the winter. Then, we could move on to a new challenge for you. I know that you may be feeling hopeless about your situation, frightened about the repercussions of what you have done. I imagine that you have an enormous amount of guilt chipping away at your soul. It is okay and very natural for you to have these feelings. I wish that more resources were available to help you deal with your unique situation. It still amazes me how little counseling inmates receive in the American justice system, given that rehabilitation is supposed to be the point of incarceration. However, giving up on yourself is not the answer. Lying in your room all day staring at the ceiling is not how to face your fears. This is the time when you must reach deep inside yourself, pull out everything you have and know in order to push ahead and finish what you have started. There are a lot of people who believe in you—me, your fiancée, your mother, your little brothers, your former teachers. You just have to believe in yourself. Please come back to tutoring as soon as you feel up to it.
Sincerely,
Ms. Harris
PS. Maybe it would help if you wrote your father a letter. Write to him just as you write to me, your mother, your fiancée. Tell him how you feel. Read it or rip it up when you finish. JUST WRITE!
21 21 21 21 times 21 21 21 member that time you made me eat trevon’s shit cause the toilet wasn’t working and they wouldn’t come fix it even though you had called twenty-one times you kept saying twenty one times twenty one goddamn times and you got mad cause I flushed it but I didn’t know it was broke so it overflowed and it stayed broke even though you called them twenty one more times to come and fix it member that time you wrapped the coconut for my birthday cake in a pillowcase and beat trevon naked naked and skinny and little and shaking but he wouldn’t cry that little nigger had heart he wouldn’t cry you hit him where nobody would see right in his nuts I saw you aiming for his nuts cause he let it slip to the principal where the bruises came from member that time you slit my mommy’s face with the razor that she shaved you with almost every night and remember how her face hung down away from her bones like meat in the butcher shop and you laughed motherfucker you laughed while she bled and I watched I watched we watched while she cried and you kicked her and you waved your razor at us like it was a sword and I remember I was only 11 and I had just read White Fang in my room and I wanted the fighting the noise the yelling the fighting the noise to stop so I came out to tell you all about it to tell you that your seed wasn’t stupid your seed can read so be happy and stop fighting cause Antonio Michael Lawrence the II can read but when I came out you was beating her so I thought the edges of the blade looked like teeth a wolf’s teeth waiting to rush me and eat out my heart so I stood there I stood there I couldn’t speak I couldn’t talk I didn’t even call 911 I stood there and waited for you to stop laughing and I wanted you to start loving us and her and be happy to come home not mad not tired not sweaty not smelling like garbage not mumbling but really looking me in the eye and talking to me like I was your son but all you ever gave me was your back all you ever gave her was your hand all you ever gave us was commands you told me what not to do in life but you never told me what to do you never told me to love to read to dance to play ball to reproduce to keep my back arched and my fingers closed when I swim to hold my hands far apart on the bat to keep my balance on the bike to hold my pencil right to shave up not down to wear a rubber when I fucked to tell the girl I was diggin that I was really diggin her why was you so mad why couldn’t you just tell me why you was mad I was ashamed I was scared I didn’t want nobody to know I hated you and now that I’m here I don’t give no fuck I don’t give no fuck who read my shit or who know I planned what I did cause I’m in here now I’m here regardless ten years I’m here for what I did so I might as well just go ahead and tell you pop I planned it from the beginning I even got it written down in a notebook Mr. Cook gave me with the big X for Malcolm X on the front it say if my daddy ever get ready to touch me or my brothers or my mother again I’m gonna go get the piece that Black showed me his cousin got in the closet and I’m going to cock back that safety and I’m gonna shoot that son of a bitch I’m going to aim it right in the middle of his head and make you look me in the eye for the first time cause you never did it on your own I wanna make you look me in the eye for the first and last time before I make you disappear and die it wasn’t even cold that night I did it so when I walked to Black’s spot to get the piece it wasn’t even cold no coat no hat no gloves no scarf my mommy’s screams playing over and over and over again in my head kept me warm and I came back and I did what I said I was gonna do cause I’m a man and you told me don’t ever go back on your word and I didn’t go back on my word I did it and I didn’t even need a piece all I had to do was reach in the sink imagine that all that time I could have done it all that time and it wasn’t even cold and it wasn’t even hard and it wasn’t even scary and I didn’t even miss you that much until now
November 15, 1990
Antonio, that Ms. Harris lady done called our house and your mother’s house basically saying you up there going crazy. All you do is lay in your bed all day staring at Benito’s mattress. She said you l
ost your job cause you ain’t been showing up. Basically what happened was I was in the kitchen frying salmon cakes and boiling peas and rice cause Grandma and Drew was coming over for dinner. This blocked number came up on the caller ID and Roy told me to get it just in case it was a bill collector so I could talk my 10 year old voice and say nobody was there. Well, I was about to hang up soon as I answered cause she sounded like a white woman and the only time they call is when we past due on bills or I been skipping school. So I just said real quick, “We ain’t here and if we was, we ain’t interested.” And she said, “No, wait. My name is Dream Harris and I’m the educational counselor for Michael Lawrence.” So I said, “Yeah yeah yeah, he done talked about you.” She sounded like a real nice lady, just white-talking like Laneice mother. And that’s when she proceeded to tell me all about what you been doing, or haven’t been doing I should say. She was like, “I’m very concerned about Michael and I really don’t know what to do to get him back into the swing of things.” She said she was hoping I could talk to you, give you “a jolt” she called it. She said that she had already talked to your moms, but that she didn’t seem like she was listening. I didn’t want her to think bad about your mother, cause I swear I love her like my own, so I told her “Mrs. Lawrence good peoples she just kind of depressed that’s all.” She sent me a copy of the letter she wrote you. She said you hadn’t wrote her back yet and that wasn’t like you. But I promised this woman I would talk to you, try to convince you to come back.
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