by Landis Lain
“You’re putting me out?” asked Mrs. Benson, indignant.
“I don’t want to have to do that,” said Amina, with narrowed eyes. “But my patient is not a minor child and she is my first concern. This is not the time or the place for yelling at her about her choices.”
Sasha’s mother glared at Amina and Damon before she stalked from the room. Everyone sighed with relief.
“Thank you,” said Sasha in a small voice. Amina smiled at her
Just then, the Doctor strode in. She was a young black woman with a short curly afro.
“Hello, little mama,” she said while she washed her hands in the sick with beta dine solution and pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.
“Hi, Dr. Moon,” said Sasha. The pains had subsided for a moment and she loosened her hold on Damon’s hand. Damon flexed his hand to regain circulation and nodded to the doctor but said nothing. He watched while Dr. Moon soothed Sasha and then checked her to make certain she was fully dilated. Sasha moaned the whole time that the doctor was doing the pelvic exam and Damon felt his thighs lock together at the thought of going through anything similar. First, girls had to have a period, which was nasty and painful as far as he could tell, and now this. Damon was so glad that he wasn’t a girl.
“Show time, little mama,” said Dr. Moon, with a smile.
Damon watched fascinated for the next hour while Sasha pushed and grunted and screamed trying to get the baby out. He wanted to cover his face with his hands but he couldn’t pull his attention away from the scene. He watched in horror as the place that had given him so much pleasure stretched out of recognition and a furry head appeared. He swayed where he stood.
“Don’t you dare faint, dad,” said Amina. “We’ve got no time to pick you up.”
“I won’t,” said Damon, but he wasn’t at all sure he could keep his word.
Finally, with one last mighty shove and a scream from Sasha that sounded like her insides were being torn away, the baby slid out. Dr. Moon caught what looked to Damon like a giant slimy slug and said, “Congratulations, little mama, you have a son.”
She turned to Damon.
“Do you want to cut the cord?” she asked. Damon shook his head, terrified to get close to the thing. Amina gave him a sharp look and pushed him to a nearby chair, leaving bloody fingerprints on his scrubs.
“Sit,” she commanded. Damon sat. He didn’t see or remember anything else that went on afterwards until Amina came over to him.
“Have you recovered?” she asked. “Would you like to hold your son?”
Damon looked up at her like she was crazy but she proffered the blue blanket wrapped bundle like she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Damon took the baby with shaking hands.
“He’s so little,” said Damon, in a choked voice.
“Hold him like this,” said Amina, demonstrating. Damon nodded but couldn’t speak past the knot in his throat. “He weighs six pounds, three ounces.”
“He’s a little early,” said Sasha. “He wasn’t supposed to come until February.”
“He’s right on time,” said Dr. Moon, stripping of her rubber gloves and tossing them into a bin. “Babies come when they feel like it.”
Damon nodded.
“He’s had a rough night, so he needs to know that he’s finally safe,” Dr. Moon said. “Hold him close.”
Damon cradled the baby to his chest awkwardly and looked down into the little wrinkled old man’s face. Cloudy eyes stared back at him for a moment and then slammed shut.
“Does he have a name yet?” asked Amina.
“Ricardo,” answered Sasha, from the recovery table. “Ricardo Damon Anderson.”
Damon didn’t hear her, because for the second time in his life, he was too busy, falling in love.
Damon and Ricky
They argued briefly about having Ricky circumcised. Damon didn’t really know what it was and asked his father about it. After Damon and his father had gone to buy flowers and gifts for Sasha and the baby, he’d come back into the room during the middle of the discussion between Sasha and Amina.
“You don’t have to have it done,” Amina said. “But it is usually done to help prevent urinary tract infections and other potential problems. It diminishes the risks of some diseases and lowers the risk of sexually transmitted diseases like HIV.”
Sasha was all for it. She nodded her head and took the paperwork from Amina with a smile. Damon thought that it was incredible that Sasha was not wallowing on the bed in agony after what she’d gone through just a few short hours before. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to have sex again, he felt so inadequate. Child birth was the most intimidating thing he’d ever seen and he would never be able to measure up. Damon was queasy just thinking about it.
“Am I circumcised?” he asked his dad, quietly.
“Yes,” answered his father. “They used to do it just as a matter of course.”
“What do you think?” asked Damon. His father was holding the baby, staring at Ricky in fascination.
“It’s better to do it now,” said his father. “If you wait until later, it’s a very painful procedure.” When Amina explained the procedure in detail Damon thought that he was going to faint from horror, but Sasha signed the papers without batting an eye. Damon had no say, because he was a minor and couldn’t legally acknowledge paternity, but he agreed to watch the procedure because he thought that he should. A wave of protectiveness surged out of his heart every time he looked at the baby. Ricky was so tiny, but he had all the working parts. It was like holding a moving doll.
When they got to the room for the procedure, a male nurse named Don picked up Ricky and took his diaper off. He put the baby in a plastic container called a circumstraint, explaining everything as he went. The circumstraint looked like a reversed toilet seat cover. Don strapped the baby’s legs wide open with light blue Velcro tabs and also strapped his arms so that he could not move. He rubbed Betadine solution on the baby’s private area and placed a surgical drape over the baby. When the nurse hooked the baby up to a device that looked like a miniature guillotine Damon felt the room rushing forward like a video game vortex and dropped to the floor like a stone.
When he came to a few minutes later, Damon heard the baby wailing. He struggled to sit up but was stopped by his father’s hand on his chest.
“Relax for a minute,” said Mr. Hamilton. “Don’t want to have to admit you to the hospital with a busted head.” Damon turned his head and looked around curiously. He was resting on a gurney and the procedure was finished. Damon could hear Don crooning and soothing the baby somewhere out of Damon’s sight. The baby quieted.
“What happened?” Damon asked.
“Circumcision got a little rough for a brother,” said Mr. Hamilton, looking a little shaken. His light brown skin was ashen and his pupils slightly dilated. “Got a little light-headed, myself.”
Damon felt his stomach pitch.
He sat up slowly and when he didn’t immediately throw up or get dizzy he breathed a sigh of relief and looked at his father.
“That was crazy, dad,” said Damon.
“Yeah,” said his father. “It was. They didn’t used to let you watch. I see why.”
Damon wanted to grab his crotch to make certain everything was still where it was supposed to be, but restrained himself.
Mr. Hamilton shook his head.
“That’s the kind of thing have a brother checking his shorts, make sure nothing’s missing,” said Mr. Hamilton. Damon and his father laughed uneasily, in complete charity with one another.
February
Damon and Brielle
Brielle was sitting in Jada’s mother’s kitchen working on the debutante college project. They had all been assigned to pick three colleges and do a collage and report on them. Brielle had picked Howard University, Hampton University and Michigan State University for her report. Sammie and Kyzie were sitting on the floor in the living room bickering over which one was going to report on Spell
man College. Jada was adding the finishing touches to her poster on Western Michigan University, outlining bold brown letters with orange marker. They had to present the reports at the upcoming college and career fair.
Brielle hadn’t wanted to come to Damon’s house or ever see him again, but Jada had convinced her that Damon probably wouldn’t be home, or if he was, he’d be tied up in the room with the baby and wouldn’t try to talk to her anyway. So engrossed was she in her project that Brielle did not notice Damon until he was standing right in front of her, cradling the blanket wrapped baby.
“Hi,” he said softly. Damon looked exhausted, with dark circles ringing his eyes like Egyptian Kohl. He wasn’t wearing his glasses so his eyes had a slightly unfocused, bleary look. He was barefoot with faded jeans riding low on his lean hips and wearing an oversized white tee shirt that had unrecognizable stains on it. He looked so good that Brielle felt a jolt in her insides. Hastily she tamped down the feeling.
Brielle wanted to dismiss him haughtily or give him the cussing out of his life, with every fiber of her being but she didn’t want to give Damon the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d hurt her. Besides, when he looked at her with those pleading eyes she couldn’t maintain her anger. Better not to say too much and give her inner turmoil away.
“Hi,” she said.
“How’ve you been?” he asked.
“Fine,” said Brielle. “I’ve been good.” She glanced back down at her project, wishing that Damon would just go away.
“Um,” he said and then paused. “This is Ricky.” He leaned down to show Brielle the tiny round face. The baby stared back at her solemnly, light brown almost yellow cheeks smooth and unblemished. His eyes were cloudy blue-grey. He was wearing a little blue cap and mittens on his hands. The rest of him was wrapped tightly in a blue receiving blanket.
Brielle smiled.
“He’s really cute, Damon,” she said. Her hand reached out of its own volition and Brielle caressed the tiny cheek with one finger.
“He’s a month old,” said Damon, every inch the proud father. “He’s holding up his head and trying to roll over already. The baby book that I’ve been reading said that most babies don’t do that until they are like four months old.”
“Really,” Brielle, fascinated with this little life. She found that if she focused on the baby, her awareness of Damon faded a little.
“Do you want to hold him?” asked Damon.
“Can I?” breathed Brielle. “He’s so little. I don’t want to hurt him.”
“You won’t,” said Damon, confidently. He put the baby into Brielle’s arms and she cooed at him.
“Aren’t you a cutie?” she crowed over and over again. Sammie and Kyzie crowded around. The baby smiled at Brielle and she looked up in delight.
“He smiled at me Damon,” she said.
“The books say it’s gas,” said Damon, smiling at Brielle. “But I think he’s smiling, too.” Brielle’s heart caught at Damon’s smile but she hastily looked back down at the baby. For a few seconds, as it washed over her that this was really Damon’s son, and Damon was forever lost to her, she hated the child with every fiber of her being. She actually had to catch herself before she dumped the baby out of her arms onto the floor. If this child didn’t exist, then she’d still have Damon.
The baby continued to stare up at her with wide, innocent eyes and Brielle felt her heart melt and her animosity fade as quickly as it had come. A feeling of shame replaced the rage. It came to her that she blamed the baby for losing Damon. The truth dawned on her that the baby was the one true innocent in the whole situation. She shook her head slightly to clear it. She smiled at Ricky who promptly burped. Brielle laughed in delight.
“Oh, you are a funny baby,” she said, nuzzling his cheek with her nose in apology for her earlier thoughts. “Gotta stop drinking that beer.”
Brielle forgave the baby. She understood why Damon had dumped her now, but she wasn’t ready to forgive him for how he’d done it. She told herself for the thousandth time that she was over Damon, but knew deep inside that she was still sick and raw over the thought that she was lying to herself and would probably always love this boy.
After a few minutes, Ricky had been handed off to Sammie, and Kyzie and then back to Damon. Jada turned her shoulder firmly away from Damon and he did not even ask her if she wanted to hold Ricky. Finally, the baby dozed off.
“I’m going to go and put him in the bed,” said Damon. “Do you need any help with your projects?” He made the offer generally but looked wistfully at Brielle. Kyzie and Sammie shook their heads simultaneously.
“Nope,’ said Kyzie. “We are almost finished.”
Jada snorted from her seat on the floor. She had not held the baby, had not even looked at him, really, and she was still angry with Damon about the whole situation. She hadn’t reconciled with her brother about Brielle. Damon glanced at his sister and sighed. He turned his attention to the real reason that he’d come into the kitchen.
Damon stared at Brielle, willing her to talk to him, to let him help so they could spend a few minutes together.
Brielle looked at Damon for a long moment, a moment that he allowed himself to hope that she had forgiven him and then shook her head no.
“Thanks,” she said, voice cool and distant. “I can handle it.” The light in Damon’s eyes died and he turned and left the room with the baby.
Brielle
“Wow,” said Sammie, when Damon was out of earshot. “How can you stand to be so cold to Damon?”
“I’m not mean to him,” said Brielle.
“No, but Kyzie told me that you blow him off every time he comes around at school,” said Sammie. “And just now, oh, my God. I mean he looks so cute, him and the baby, I wouldn’t be able to resist the whole combination.”
“I can’t help it,” said Brielle, looking miserable. “He comes around and I just freeze up inside. Do you think I’m wrong?”
“I think it would be a dope fiend move to let him get next to you again,” said Jada, in a fierce voice. “He’s my brother, but I think he’s a selfish jerk. He only came in here with the baby so he could take a break. The little monster was up all night, screaming.”
“Dang Jada, don’t be so mean,” said Kyzie.
“I’m mean?” asked Jada. “I thought you were the one that threatened to cut off Damon’s nuts with a butter knife?”
Kyzie laughed.
“I was mad. But since I found out what really happened, I’m not mad at him anymore,” she said. “Don’t you think the baby is cute?”
“No,” said Jada, rolling her eyes. “That stupid girl drops him off all the time. She just takes off and the kid doesn’t even have diapers or formula. Half the time he’s got a rash and something disgusting shooting out of either end. My parents go crazy. Little Ricky this and Little Ricky that. It makes me want to throw up. Damon wasn’t singing the brat’s praises last night when it was howling like a werewolf. He actually asked me to hold that little rat after it woke me up out of my sleep. I told him it wasn’t my danged baby. My mother had the nerve to yell at me for being selfish. And Damon gets out of his chores because he has to watch the baby and go to work and school. It’s like he gets rewarded for having sex and a baby. It’s not fair.” Her voice got angrier and angrier as she continued.
“Yup, yup, tell us how you really feel,” quipped Sammie.
“I mean, if it had been me having a baby, after the parental beat down, I’d be working, going to school, taking care of my baby and still doing the chores. Mama would constantly be fuming about it,” said Jada. “With Prince Damon, all is forgiven. Hmmph. And he hurt you, Brielle. He comes in here all pitiful like you’re just supposed to melt all over his feet because he has this baby and you’re supposed to feel all sorry for him. He was wrong. Totally wrong. I’m still mad at him about that.”
Sammie and Kyzie stared at Jada in surprise. Brielle bit her lip.
“That is like the longest speech I’ve e
ver heard you make,” said Sammie to Jada.
Jada hunched her shoulders.
“It’s like we’re just supposed to forget how messed up he’s made his life by screwing with that dumb girl,” said Jada. “He totally messed over Brielle.”
Brielle blinked back tears of relief. At last, somebody who understood just how angry she was feeling at Damon’s betrayal.
Brielle got up from her chair and leaned down to hug Jada.
“Thanks,” she said. “I love you, Jay.”
“Love you, too,” said Jada, returning the hug. She still looked like she wanted to get up from the floor and go and kill Damon. She took a big breath and let it out in a huge sigh to calm down.
Besides,” said Brielle, with a shrug. “He doesn’t have time for me. Even if I still wanted to be with him, I’d always come third after Sasha and the baby. My mom said trying to get a man’s attention while he’s focused on something else is like trying to stop a moving train with your body,- all you end up with is pieces of yourself splattered all over.”
“What a gross thought,” said Kyzie.
“I think she meant emotional pieces,” said Brielle, rolling her eyes at her sister in exasperation. Kyzie was very literal in her thought processes.
“Still,” said Kyzie.
“That’s deep,” said Sammie. “Sounds like something Madre would say.”
The conversation turned general as the girls completed their projects.
March
Damon
The letter came to the house on a day when Damon was feeling exhausted and inadequate. Ricky had been awake all last night, again. He’d have to give the baby to Sasha when she came for him, but right now Ricky was sleeping, thank God. Damon was wracking his brain trying to find a way to shut Sasha down when she asked him if they could go out sometime. Dating was over for him, even if he’d wanted to go anyplace with Sasha, which he didn’t. He knew that she was going to throw a tantrum if she didn’t get her way, and probably not bring Ricky by for a few days to punish Damon. She couldn’t last any longer than that. Ricky exhausted her and cramped her style. Ricky was also a bone of contention between Sasha and her mother, because he was colicky and kept the family up nights. Damon was sitting at the kitchen table, weary and glassy eyed, not talking to his mother, when Jada brought the mail in.