Tell the Truth & Shame the Devil

by Lezley McSpadden

  As the nurse prepped my epidural, and I sat hunched over on the edge of the bed, I was glad I had eaten that spaghetti. Granny was right. It wasn’t no telling when I’d eat again. They had already informed me that I could have ice chips.

  Mike, my mama, my sister, my daddy, and some of my cousins were all there, but it was like all I could focus on were thoughts of my baby boy I’d soon be meeting. The long needle for the epidural gave me a slight pinch, then it was over. I had finally reached ten centimeters. The nurse prepped me for delivery.

  At 10:00 p.m. Dr. Ekunno was in place at the bottom of the bed, and my legs were in the stirrups. The nurse instructed me to sit up and grab the back of my legs.

  “Okaaaay, Lezley, you are ready to push! Push, Lezley, push!”

  I started trying to do situps.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, stopping me.

  “I’m pushin’!” I said, panting like I had just done a full gym workout.

  “Baby, that’s not how you’re supposed to do it,” the nurse said, shaking her head. She began to instruct me in the right way to help the baby along.

  “Lezley, just bear down like you’re having a bowel movement,” the nurse instructed.

  “But that sound nasty,” I said, moaned, curling up my top lip. Just then I got another contraction and screamed out.

  “Bear down! I promise it’s what the baby needs to get out,” Dr. Ekunno said in a calm tone. “Now, Lezley, you are doing great, but as soon as you get another contraction, push like you just did.” He nodded to his nurse to keep coaching me while he went to check on another patient.

  For forty-five minutes me and that nurse went back and forth. Then all of a sudden a pain shot through me that had me hollering for dear life.

  “It’s comiiiiiiiin’! Ooooooh!” I closed my eyes as tight as I could, yelled out, and pushed at the same time, probably busting everybody in the room’s eardrums.

  Suddenly, I heard a tiny cry. It was my baby.

  “Let me see! Give him to me.” Tears were pouring down my face while they sewed me up. My baby had torn me up coming out, and I was going to have to heal from all the stitches for a while, but right now I wasn’t feeling any pain, just joy and happiness.

  Mike rushed over to me. We were anxious to see and touch our baby, but the nurse wanted to clean him up first. Since I was in pain from the stitches my cousin held him first and I watched her feed him a bottle. Then she brought him to me.

  “Look at our baby,” I said, looking up at Mike. “He so beautiful, even with his cone head.”

  “My li’l man is perfect. Wow.” Mike couldn’t believe his eyes.

  May 20, 1996, Michael Orlandus Darrion Brown made his debut. I felt like we had our own little family. We had created another person, and it was blowing both our minds.

  He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, so small. Mike Mike was perfect to me. I cried when the nurse finally handed him to me. I was amazed by the fact that I had created this person inside me. I just wanted to hold him forever and never put him down. I looked over at Mike, and as hard as he be acting, I saw a softness in his eyes tonight. The kind that only a man seeing his baby for the first time can have. He had his daddy’s first and last name, but like I promised Brittanie, if I had a boy I’d name him after my brother, Bernard. Orlandus is Bernard’s middle name. And Darrion, well, I just liked the way that name sounded. He had his own name and his own identity and, within it, a little piece of everybody that loved him. Since I loved nicknames, I’d call him Mike Mike.

  CHAPTER NINE

  BEAUTIFUL SURPRISE

  The day I brought Mike Mike home from the hospital, it was a scorcher. Mama was so excited about her firstborn grandchild. Her latest piece of car was a little Chevy Chevette that we called the Silver Bullet. It was a straight-up bucket, and the air conditioner would only push out warm air.

  As we pulled off from the hospital, in between smiling back at Mike Mike and checking him out through the rearview mirror, Mama reminded me that we had a stop to make before we went home. As long as I didn’t have to move around much, I didn’t care, and Mike Mike was sound asleep in his car seat. I slumped against the seat beside him, still exhausted and sore and swollen from my stitches.

  I was miserable and burning up in her backseat, and rolled down the window to at least catch a hot breeze.

  “Uh-uh, Nette Pooh, put that blanket over that baby’s head ’fore he catch a cold,” Mama ordered.

  I don’t know about how white mamas are, because I haven’t ever had one, but I can tell you my mama used a lot of the same old-fashioned remedies on us that her mother brought up from the South. Her mama taught her those same superstitions and that’s how I learned them. So, mama didn’t care if it was 200 degrees, this baby was going to have a hat on his head so he didn’t get no cold.

  First stop was my Granny’s. She, like Mr. and Mrs. Brown, didn’t come to the hospital to see Mike Mike we took him to her. Mr. and Mrs. Brown weren’t at the hospital to see Mike Mike be born either. They were excited, but being older, too, they had old-fashioned ways like Granny. Mr. Brown worked a lot and probably was on the road driving his truck or something. Mrs. Brown, like my Granny, felt like all those people didn’t need to be at the hospital. She would meet her new grandson soon enough. But the difference with Granny was that you always took a new baby to see Granny at her house as soon as the baby was born. It was a family tradition. Next to your baby getting baptized, it was like getting an official blessing and proper welcome to the family.

  When we got to Granny’s everybody was there to greet Mike Mike just like when I gave birth—my Auntie Bobbie, some of my other aunties, and a few of my cousins, and Granny was standing with a smile in the middle of all of them. I thought my family was going to be really disappointed in me, but when my Auntie Bobbie, picked up Mike Mike, and held him gently in her arms, she looked in his eyes, and said, “You better not keep my niece up all night ‘cause she gotta go to school,” I was nearly brought to tears by her powerful words.

  My family knew I was trying and they weren’t mad at me.

  “Look at this baby,” Granny’s eyes lit up. She didn’t hold him long. I guess she felt like she was going to be spending enough time with him as he grew up. I was young and she knew I was going to be depending on family to help me get though this. “Go on an’ get this baby home, Nette,” she said, but not before giving me some of her sage advice.

  “Now look, don’t you be sittin’ on no hard surfaces, or washin’ yo hair, takin’ a shower, or goin’ outside for a while. You gots ta heal from this baby and neitha one a ya’ll cain’t be gettin’ sick.” She sent me on my way, and I didn’t question what she said. I just knew I’d better follow her instructions.

  Next stop was going to my daddy’s house, where we had been staying temporarily since right before I went in the hospital. The house was big, but a lot of people stayed there. No place I really wanted to have a newborn, but we didn’t have a choice. It was uncomfortable when I realized that I’d be sleeping on the couch with my baby. I needed a room with a door, but the door to my temporary room was the front door.

  Mama was waiting for a new place to be ready for us to move in. In the meantime, at least we had a clean, decent place to be. So, as soon as I put Mike Mike’s baby bag down, I was already counting down the minutes till we left. But I would make due. It would even be kind of fun being with my other side of my family, plus mama was there.

  My daddy and auntie lived together in U-City, short for University City. This was another township within St. Louis County. U-City was interesting, because it stretched from St. Louis City limits to as far as the border of the small town of Olivette that spilled over into parts of Ladue. This street was nice, but it wasn’t hardly close to Ladue.

  Funny thing about a place like U-City. It was pretty much black where daddy’s house was, and got more and more integrated the further out you drove. Then it had Jewish pockets, and big mansion-sized homes. But
then you could cross over the main road, Olive Street Road, and it be small cracker jack looking houses in lower income pockets, mixed with renters and owners. I was young and only knew about my world, though, and to me this was still close to the city.

  I wasn’t going to complain about going back to Daddy’s to Mama, because this was where we had to be right now. Mama was doing the best she could. It was just that bringing a new baby home you want peace and quiet and your own space, and I wasn’t going to have that.

  When we arrived on Jullian, my daddy’s brother, Uncle Edwin, greeted us.

  “Chile, bring that baby on up in here!” he shrieked.

  Uncle Edwin was a gay man. He was tall, dark brown–skinned, and slim, and he could party hard. He loved music and to dance around the house. He was so into playing his music loud that in the living room he had these big floor-to-ceiling racks that looked like cages, and he had large, tall speakers inside, and he had hooked up an elaborate sound system. Uncle Edwin had money like that.

  He was a truck driver. He always had a lot of cash in his pockets and a brand-spanking-new car when he came off the road from driving a job. He was like Santa Claus at Christmastime, and he would always buy a big old tree. His top priority was taking care of my auntie and her children.

  Outside of Daddy, Uncle Edwin, my auntie, and a handful of other relatives there was also now my mama, me, Brittanie, and Mike Mike. The house had an upstairs, a middle floor, and a livable basement that had two extra bedrooms. So folks were all over the place.

  I made myself comfortable on the couch and put Mike Mike in a fresh soft newborn onesie. He was so beautiful, and I never wanted to let him go.

  “Look at Mama’s sweet baby boy,” I whispered, kissing him softly on his forehead. He cooed, and that made me tear up. I was still amazed that he had come out of me.

  “I’m gonna keep you right here with me and protect you forever.” I kissed him again and then inhaled his skin deeply. I laid him on my chest, and we both fell off to sleep. And that’s how we slept for the next several nights.

  • • • •

  It had just turned a week that we were staying at Daddy’s. One afternoon, Mama was fed up with something Daddy did. Brittanie and me were on the front porch sitting. I was rocking and playing with Mike Mike.

  I heard Mama get loud. All of a sudden Mama bolted out the front door. “We outta here, Nette Pooh and Brittanie! Y’all get your stuff. We got someplace to go!”

  That’s all I needed to hear. I was moving fast, with Mike Mike in my arms, and Brittanie helped me gather all our stuff. The timing was perfect, because Mama had just got word from the electric and phone companies that we had lights and a phone at our new house.

  “And I’m taking my meat, nigga!” Mama shouted at Daddy.

  Mama took the empty trash bag out the trash can and went to the freezer and scooped out all the meat she had bought.

  We shuffled out of there and never looked back at Jullian Street.

  We putted off down Olive Street Road in the Silver Bullet. I looked over at Mama, and as mad as she was at my daddy, she kind of gave me a half smile, with our bag full of meat like we had just pulled off a major bank heist. Mama had a look of confidence on her face. And I was cool because I didn’t have to sleep on the couch anymore.

  I was glad to have Mike Mike home for real. Mama had surprised me and put all my things in place as part of my big welcome home with the baby, and had even displayed some of Mike Mike’s toys and baby decorations. I laid him in an old wicker bassinet and sighed, as I looked around at all the toys, clothes, and other baby needs he had been blessed with. Mike Mike even had two of everything, from strollers to car seats to bassinets to high chairs. My family and the Browns spoiled him rotten.

  My daddy came by a few days later to give me money. Him and Mama made up. That’s how they did. Sounds kind of dysfunctional but I was kind of glad they were cool again.

  I was extremely overprotective of Mike Mike. He was just a newborn, and it wasn’t like he could get up and crawl or walk nowhere. I’d just sit and watch him in that bassinet, checking stuff like his breathing every few minutes. I worried about if he’d choke on a soft toy. My imagination was going wild. I guess because he was my first. It was setting into my brain that this was such a big responsibility for me to be so young. I was terrified of SIDS, and the thought of Mike Mike suffocating in a crib was enough for me to decide that what better way for my new prince to sleep than in a bassinet. I put his bassinet in the living room and started sleeping on the couch, so I could be as close to him as possible.

  • • • •

  It was summer; school was out, and all I could think about was Mike Mike. St. Louis temperatures could easily get up to the high 90s, and it was known to feel in the triple digits when that humidity set in. I didn’t care how hot it was or about the fact that he was just days old. He was going to be dressed to the nines every day. Mike Mike was my new personal alarm clock, and we had a routine. I’d give him a bottle before bed, and that boy could sleep through a storm.

  By 8:00 a.m., sometimes 7:00, I was up feeding him his morning bottle, washing him down, and dressing him. Mike Mike had so many clothes I could put him in a new outfit every day and not repeat it for a month. Then I’d finish by gently brushing over his little fine, curly hair. He was perfect, and I didn’t want him to ever get dirty. I’d place him in his swing and watch him go back and forth for what seemed like hours.

  One day I went out to get the mail and placed him in his bassinet. I was still healing from my stitches and moving slow. I was out on the porch when the wind slammed the door shut, and the lock turned. Oh, Lord, what was I going to do? I was home alone with Mike Mike and locked out in shorts, a T-shirt, and some flip-flops. My heart started beating fast. My baby was inside and wasn’t nobody around. I panicked, running from one side of the porch to the other. The front door was so heavy that I couldn’t kick the door, and I didn’t have a phone to call a locksmith. The house was only one story, but the front windows were all locked. I saw that the only window open was a small window up high.

  I kicked off my flip-flops like lightning and began to climb up our brick house, grabbing onto any brick that was sticking out the side of the house. With each move, I felt a pain in my lower belly. Then I’d scrape my leg. Beads of sweat were forming on my head, and by the time I reached the open window, the sweat was dripping in my eyes.

  I grabbed hold of the windowsill, took a big breath, and, with all my strength, hoisted myself up. I let out a scream that would’ve woke up a deaf person. I crawled into the house, scraped and bloody. I was breathing so hard I felt dizzy. It didn’t matter, as long as I had Mike Mike in my arms, safe and sound. After that happened, I understood the power of the bond between a mother and her child. I would have climbed a mountain or walked through fire to get to my baby. Wasn’t anything ever going to keep me from him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  SCHOOLYARD STOMPDOWN

  The summer was over, and as anxious as I was to get back in the school mix and to start my junior year, I was so attached to Mike Mike, part of me didn’t want to leave him. I handed him to my mama.

  “I’ll see you later,” I said stepping onto the bus. Me and Mama never said “goodbye.” That was just our thing, because we never wanted things to be final. My friends were all smiling, but I felt like I was about to cry.

  “Go on, Nette Pooh, Mike Mike gon’ be right here waitin’ for you when you get back.”

  I looked out the window until I couldn’t see him anymore.

  • • • •

  Miss Hajid, who had homeschooled me, invited me to bring Mike Mike to school. She wanted to include him in her lesson plan talking about stages of a baby’s development. Everybody was whispering and oohing and aahing as I walked through the halls with my baby. He was six months by now, showing his personality, giggling and smiling. I was proud to show him off.

  At home with Mama, I was noticing she was starting to be on edge
with me. Times were hard with a new mouth in the house. Meanwhile, me and Mike weren’t getting along, because I didn’t see him doing anything. He had dropped out of school, and he didn’t have a job. He wasn’t motivated. I had to depend on his parents. They were taking care of his responsibilities. Me and him weren’t even acting like a couple. He wasn’t affectionate towards me, and I wasn’t interested anyway. Mike was coming over, and then we’d drive the baby to his parents’ house, but we weren’t connected like two people in a relationship were supposed to be. Thank God his mama and daddy were picking up the slack on his end, buying things for Mike Mike. I didn’t like that Mike wasn’t in school anymore. I wanted to graduate now more than ever.

  “You gonna have to get a job and take care of yo’ own baby. I gotta go back to work,” Mama told me.

  Outside of the time I was gone to school, I was doing my best to handle my responsibility, but when Mama said that, my heart sped up and my brain started racing. “What you mean you cain’t take care of him, Mama? I am takin’ care of my baby! You gettin’ my check for him too!”

  So each day my bus ride got shorter and shorter in my head because I spent that time worried about what I was going to do. At school I was totally distracted, thinking about what Mama was saying to me at home.

  There were a lot of different beefs brewing at school now too. Some days I’d come to school and didn’t feel like talking in the mornings. I may not warm up to people until after lunch. I might have had a long night. Some of these girls weren’t trying to understand that.

  It was mainly the same crew of chicks that was pointing at my belly when I was pregnant in class. Now they looking and pointing and whispering stuff like, “Humph, who got her baby while she at school?” Each day I just played it off, tried to stay focused on class and getting through the day, but my anger was bubbling up.