Tell the Truth & Shame the Devil

by Lezley McSpadden

Big Mike took Mike Mike up to the school but didn’t stay for the graduation. Mike Mike’s cap and gown was at my mama’s, so they gave him one to wear, but it was too small. He wore it proudly, though.

  I drove like a bat out of hell, blasting my music, singing along with the radio. I was trying to make it to Mike Mike before he left the school. I pulled up, and everyone was gone. I had missed it. My heart sank a little, but the news was too good to sit around wallowing.

  I decided to drive the route he usually walked. I turned down St. Louis Avenue and spotted him up ahead in his stonewashed jeans, white T-shirt, and red baseball cap.

  “Mike Mike!” I shouted out the window.

  He stopped, turned around, and made a slow jog to the car. We were both smiling and speechless. I immediately saw the large brown envelope in his hand. He had on his eyeglasses and looked so studious.

  Mike Mike held up the envelope.

  “Get in the car, Mike Mike. Let me see it!”

  He got in and pulled out his diploma.

  “See, I told you, you could do it,” I said, admiring it like it was a precious gem.

  “Yeah, I know, Mama.”

  “So where you wanna go?” I was ready to celebrate.

  “Naw, Mama, just take me to Gun Gun’s. I’m finna go hang out with Brandon an’ ’em.”

  I tried to cover my disappointment. “Aw, OK, it’s cool. I just want you to have fun.”

  I wanted to go kick it, just me and him. I was gonna treat him to a big dinner, then scoop up Déja, Moo Moo, Jazzy, and Louis, and we all just have a big party. But Mike Mike was my simple kid. He didn’t want all that fanfare.

  We coasted along, headed to my mama’s house. Mike Mike turned up the radio and was nodding his head to the music.

  This was a summer of celebration. I decided to host the Fourth of July festivities at my house. Louis set the music up and had the grill going. That was his territory. I had all the eyes on the stove occupied. I was in my zone, going from seasoning up my baked beans to stirring my spaghetti to testing out my famous barbecue sauce. Louis navigated his way into our narrow kitchen and handed me a pan of ribs hot off the grill. I slid them into the oven next to a tray of chicken wings and breasts.

  Brittanie, her boyfriend, and her two kids had just arrived. Bernard, Mama, and my daddy were sipping on beers. I was looking out the kitchen window on to the driveway at Déja, Moo Moo, Jazzy, Louis’s son, Li’l Louis, and Mike Mike. They were all shooting fireworks, laughing, having a good time. Nothing made me happier than the family together.

  • • • •

  It was hot, and the sky was clearer than it had been in a long time. I woke up thinking about my granny so I called my mama to ask if she wanted to go fishing.

  Me, Louis, Moo Moo, and Jazzy pulled up in front of Mama’s house, and my uncle Carl was already out front. Brittanie’s car was parked in the driveway. Louis honked twice.

  “C’mon, Uncle Carl! Get Mama, too. I ain’t tryin’ to be late to the lake,” I said.

  One by one the whole family filed out the house—Mama, Brittanie, and her seven-year-old son, MJ, and ten-year-old daughter, Kiah. Uncle Carl was bringing up the rear, when all of a sudden, out came Mike Mike trying to tie his shoe and keep moving at the same time.

  “Mike Mike, you comin’ too?” I was grinning ear to ear.

  “Yeah, Mama,” he said, leaning over to hug me. “I gotta show y’all how it’s done!”

  “Yay, Mike Mike!” Jazzy was jumping up and down.

  Moo Moo was trying to be cool like his big brother and just flashed a grin as Mike Mike dapped him up.

  Mike Mike lifted them both up and put them in the back part of the truck, where Kiah and MJ were huddled up. Brittanie, Mama, Uncle Carl, and Mike Mike all crammed in the backseat. I felt like driving and jumped behind the wheel, and we were off.

  I turned up 95.5. “Funkin’ for Jamaica” was on, and I was feeling good. All I was missing was Déja. She was going to miss out this time on our big family outing because she was getting her hair braided.

  Today was like the good ol’ days when our family was bigger and my granny was still living. I was getting a little full inside, coasting up Highway 270, just thinking about those times.

  An hour later we had parked and set up our fishing lines in the water. Music was playing, and we kicked back in lawn chairs. I peeped Mike Mike again, remembering when I was at this lake pregnant with him. Even in this heat, it was peaceful and calming out here.

  Even though Spanish Lake, Missouri, was only about thirty minutes from my mama’s house in Ferguson, it felt like we were farther away, but we were actually right in Aunt Bobbie’s neighborhood which was a quiet subdivision.

  When it was time to break out the sandwiches, Mike Mike gave me that now-you-know-I’m-hungry-Mama look. “My baby can eat!” I said, handing him two.

  “Mama! I ain’t a baby no more.”

  “Look, I don’t care if you just had a birthday and you think you all grown ’cause you eighteen. You still my baby!” I hugged and kissed him.

  “C’mon, Mama, wit your short self,” he said, chuckling.

  After five hours, all the kids was sweaty and worn-out from running and jumping and fishing. All the grown people were exhausted too. Everybody had caught a fish but Mike Mike.

  “Hey, y’all, let’s roll!” I called out.

  “Man, I ain’t leavin’ till I catch a fish,” he said, before accidentally stepping in a soft, muddy area of the grass. “Dang! My Chucks!” I knew he was going to be in a mood if we left now.

  “OK, family! I know y’all ready to go, but we cain’t leave till Mike Mike get him a fish,” I announced. All the kids were moaning and groaning.

  Me and Mama took turns moving him to different fishing spots along the lake. Then his line started to jerk.

  “I think I got one, Mama!”

  Everybody started jumping around, shouting, “Get it, Mike Mike! Get it! Get it!”

  Mike Mike yanked that line out the water, tossing that mug up in the air, and held up his fish as proud as he could be.

  “OK, Mama, we can gon’ and go!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ME AND GOD AGAINST THE ODDS

  On August 5, 2014 Mike Mike and Maurice were in the basement at my mama’s making beats. Me, Brittanie, and Mama were upstairs when the boys decided to get some fresh air. The rain had just ended.

  A few minutes later, Mike Mike started calling, “Mama! Gun Gun! Brittanie!” He was standing on Mama’s back porch looking up to the sky. He was taking pictures with his phone. “C’mere, I got something to show y’all!”

  “Mike Mike, what you doin’?” I asked, stepping outside.

  He made us all gather around.

  “You see these clouds?” he asked, pointing to a picture on his phone.

  “Yeah, and what exactly are we lookin’ at, Mike Mike?” Brittanie asked with a frown.

  “I don’t see nothin’,” my mama said, squinting.

  “Me neither, Mama,” I added.

  “Aw, man, I cain’t believe y’all don’t see that. It’s God and the devil fightin’ each other.” Mike Mike leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

  Mike Mike looked at us like we were crazy. I knew Mike Mike smoked weed. I didn’t approve of it, and he knew that and didn’t do it around me. Maybe he was high, maybe not—either way he was wrestling with something bigger that night.

  “I don’t hardly see none of that,” Mama said.

  We waved him off and headed back into the house, but Brittanie said, “Mike Mike, maybe it’s only meant for you to see it and not me too.”

  “No, just look at the picture, Brittanie!” he said, getting frustrated. To him, whatever he saw was clear as day.

  The next day Mike Mike was still trying to show all of us that picture, but his phone just up and stopped working. It wasn’t the battery. It just stopped. But something had taken over him. Something I hadn’t ever seen or heard before. It was deep. I did
n’t know where it was coming from neither. It was all about God.

  Mrs. Brown had church every Saturday in her living room with her pastor, Pastor Larry. Mike Mike and Déja had grown up being around those weekly gatherings. Me, I’ve never been a member of a church or gone to one regularly, but I’ve always believed in God. When I was growing up Granny’s house was the centerpiece of religious holidays like Christmas and Easter. She’d prepare a feast, and Mama would dress us in our best dresses and hats. Even though Mama didn’t take us to church, we always knew that God was who you prayed to and got your blessings from. So, I’ve always considered myself a Christian.

  Like most kids, Mike Mike and Déja both were bored sitting through those Saturday church gatherings. He tried to skip them every chance he got. But as he got older, especially once he got into high school, he started to check them out more. I think he was finding his own way. He had made up his mind to build his own kind of relationship with God.

  Mike Mike was on a mission to spread his message, and none of us were understanding it. He was clearly discovering his own connection to spirituality. He talked to Bernard, and Bernard being a deep thinker, he may have understood Mike Mike the most.

  “Bernard, I been tryin’ to get everybody to understand what I saw in the sky. It was real,” Mike Mike said, sitting next to him in Mama’s backyard.

  “Yeah, man, I feel you. It’s a lotta spirits and stuff out here in the universe,” Bernard nodded. “But, Mike Mike, whatever relationship you got with God, that’s yours you ain’t gotta defend it if folks ain’t feelin’ what you sayin’.”

  “I’m saved, Bernard. See, look,” Mike Mike held out his hands. “See I don’t bite my nails no more ’cause I am not worried,” he said pointing to Bernard’s hands. “See you still bite yours ’cause you have demons attacking you. I don’t know more,” Mike Mike said, giving him one of those I-got-a-secret-but-you-don’t-know-it looks.

  Friday, August 8, 2014

  Mama took ill. She was having chest pains and shortness of breath. Brittanie rushed her to the hospital. The doctors thought it was her heart, but it ended up being stress. They kept her overnight for observation. We were all relieved that she was going to be all right. I honestly think the stress had just built over the years, working hard and worrying about making ends meet. Plus, we all could probably cut back on smoking cigarettes like we do. I’m guilty, Mama, and so is Brittanie.

  I was at Mama’s with the kids, waiting for Brittanie to get back to the house. I needed to feed the kids and make sure she had something to eat when Brittanie got here. Plus, cooking was a good stress reliever for me. Chicken and noodles was hearty and healthy. I had two pots going, and as the water started to boil, and I dropped the noodles in one and the chicken breasts in the other, I started thinking about how relieved I was that nothing happened to Mama more seriously. I cut up my celery, carrots, and onions. Suddenly, as I thought about all that me and Mama had been through over the years, and how we had finally made it to see Mike Mike graduate, and Déja become a teenager, growing into a young lady, and Moo Moo and Jazzy both doing well in school, I was overwhelmed. I wasn’t ready to lose my mama. We had come so far in our relationship, she had seen me get to a good place in life with a good man, and even though money was still tight, things were OK with me. The water boiled over and I wiped my face.

  Times like this, watching Moo Moo, Jazzy, Déja, and Mike Mike tear them chicken and noodles up touched my heart. Just to think there was a time I couldn’t have all my kids at one table at the same time. They always knew, no matter what, that Mama was gonna make something good to eat.

  You would’ve thought some kind of alarm went off the way all them kids jumped up from the table when they were done. TV shows, social media, homework. They all went off to the bedroom, where they hung out. Mike Mike seemed like he was really on a mission, racing back to the basement where he was working on his computer.

  Them kids was outta here.

  Brittanie opened the front door, looking tired and worn-out. It was a sticky, hot night, and she still had her scrubs on from work. I knew she had to be hungry and made her a bowl.

  Mike Mike came back upstairs from the basement with his laptop and went into the living room where Brittanie was. I busied myself cleaning up. A few minutes later she came into the kitchen, tears streaming down her face, and sat down at the table, but she didn’t touch her food.

  “What’s wrong, Brittanie? Why you cryin’?” I asked, putting my hand on her shoulder.

  “Mike Mike just said Mama not gonna make it,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes. He had made his prediction so matter-of-factly.

  “Why did you say that to Brittanie?” I called out to him.

  By now he had packed up his computer and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

  “Where you goin’?” I asked.

  “To Vyron’s,” he snapped, heading out the door.

  “Mike Mike! Come here!” I said, standing with my hands on my hips. He never turned around.

  “Nette Pooh! Somethin’ is goin’ on with Mike Mike,” Brittanie said.

  “Nette Pooh, yesterday, Mike Mike told me something weird about his stepmother, Calvina, dyin’. Big Mike had told him that she was sick in the hospital, and Mike Mike told his dad that she wasn’t gonna make it, then Big Mike got mad and hung up on him. When I asked him why he said that about her, he wasn’t tryin’ to take back what he said to his daddy, either,” Brittanie told me.

  “Brittanie, you know Mike Mike just probably goin’ through some things. He gon’ be all right.”

  “I’m tellin’ you, Nette Pooh, somethin’ done took over Mike Mike. Somethin’ I ain’t ever seen or heard before. I don’t like all this stuff he sayin’ about death.”

  “He’ll be fine, Brittanie. Stop worryin’.”

  I got my good-night hugs in and left. I know when something’s bothering Brittanie it’s hard for her to let it go. I’m the same way. Her and Mike Mike always had a closeness. Sometimes he’d tell her something before me, and I was his own mama. I was sure when he was ready to talk, he’d call her.

  • • • •

  Mike Mike was definitely thinking a lot about life, and he was thinking about death too. He didn’t seem scared about Gun Gun dying, or his stepmother. I don’t know what Mike Mike had been reading or who he had been talking to, but he seemed like he had a lot on his mind. So he took it to social media.

  In his final days, his Facebook posts, which I didn’t see until much later, had a fervor and spirituality that I’d never heard from him before:

  August 6, 2014, at 11:40 p.m.

  We in a world full of hell and certain people that are chosen to move on to the next

  August 6, 2014, at 11:41 p.m.

  Dont hate each other love each other as if we were all a big family aint no tellin when u go need the next person just because you fucked up on yo behalf we better than that yall betta step up to the plate and make sum changes flat out

  August 6, 2014, at 11:49 p.m.

  Its not only one god everyone has their own god and it takes you to bring that god out of you

  August 6, 2014, at 11:50 p.m.

  Because the real you wants better for you and the people around you all you have to do is forgive thats all and move on and better thingz will fall in place slowly I promise

  August 7, 2014, at 5:07 p.m.

  Its funny how I was raised by church folks but neva read the bible but I have a full understandin of the illuminati its not devil worshoping it’s the other way around

  August 7, 2014, at 5:09 p.m.

  I honestly believe that the person that is sacrificed has to be a love one in order to test how you can deal with your stress

  August 7, 2014, at 7:18 p.m.

  Trynna heal and feed all my people we shall not fear no evil fuck the BS be about you business and kill that fake shit with kindness we all will face the truth sooner or later but for as of now u go either learn or fall off the cliff left senseless af
ter all you told me to mind my business while I was trynna stick my hand n yo shit and pull you out of it

  August 8, 2014, at 3:14 a.m.

  I believe I found the answer to my question to why I feel like Im breathing in water my home boi sis told me she once heard before that god got swallowed by a whale and was sent to deliever a message to some other kingdom or something IDK

  August 8, 2014, at 3:14 a.m.

  Yall seeking for the truth help me bring it out

  August 8, 2014, at 3:16 a.m.

  The truth hurts like a mug fucka I swear but ill neva give up on you all

  August 8, 2014, at 3:22 a.m.

  I could use a hug right now FR

  August 8, 2014, at 3:23 a.m.

  The devil still after me as well but he hatin cause im back and im turning hell into a true fairy tale

  PART THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  WON’T BRING HIM BACK

  When something bad happens—I mean really bad—you find yourself trying to put it all in some order, make it make sense. But when it’s something so messed up, sometimes it’s like a million pieces of a puzzle scattered out in front of you. How are you supposed to put that together?

  August 9, 2014

  Bernard was at Mama’s house with his girlfriend, Kat. I had planned on going by there on my way home. Brittanie was on her way to get Mama something to eat at Subway.

  When Brittanie drove past Mike Mike, she was on her way out of the Canfield Apartments complex, and he was headed back in, walking down Canfield Drive with a skinny short dude wearing dreads. She figured she’d just catch him back at Mama’s.

  Something was about to happen, but none of us knew it.

  “I’m finna go to work, Mama,” Bernard said, checking his watch. They left. Mama was there with MJ and Kiah. Déja had just called to check in.

  “Gun Gun, you OK?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m just waitin’ on Brittanie to come back with my food,” Mama said.

  “OK, I’m home with Jazzy and Moo Moo. I’ll see you later. Oh, tell Mike Mike to call me.”