Tell the Truth & Shame the Devil

by Lezley McSpadden

  “Mama, I really don’t wanna have another baby with Mike. Will you help me get an abortion?” I asked.

  “No, Nette Pooh, you know we don’t do stuff like that.” Her answer caught me off guard. But I guess, now I was a little older.

  “Nette, it’ll be all right. Plus, Mike Mike need somebody to play with,” Mama said calmly.

  • • • •

  As I drove home from Venture that night on my way to pick up Mike Mike I drove past Mike’s cousin’s house. I slowed and did a double take when I saw Mike backing out the driveway with a girl in the passenger seat.

  Heat surged through my body. Here I was the mother of his child, pregnant with another one of his babies, busting my ass going to work, trying to do right by him, and he had some heifer in his car. I gunned the gas pedal and started chasing his car. I was a speed demon racing over hills squinting through the busted window trying to keep up with Mike’s car. Within minutes police sirens were going off. I was kicking myself that I had chased Mike and was probably going to get a fat-ass speeding ticket. Turns out they didn’t pull me over for speeding at all. They got me for my busted window. Then, when they realized I didn’t have insurance they had me trail them to the station, park the car, and call a ride.

  I was at the jail, mad at myself for even getting in this situation. As the black female clerk was processing me, I just couldn’t help but vent.

  “Why is it that I’m tryin’ to do right by this man, and he just keep doin’ wrong? I got a son by him and a baby on the way. It just ain’t right, and when I saw him with that girl in his car, somethin’ just came over me, and that’s why I was chasin’ him.”

  “Hell no!” She shook her head back and forth. “You know what? My sister had an episode just like you did. Right here it says they stopped you for obstruction of view.” she said, leaning over and whispering. “Look, I’mma let you go, and I’ll tell you right now, if they stop you again, I’mma tell my supervisor I don’t know how you got out. But I suggest you go home, park that car, and take care of your business!” On that note she gave me a wink, and I was free to go.

  • • • •

  I was five months and just wanted to get through the rest of this pregnancy as calm as possible, and I was trying to keep the peace with Mike. Then he came over to my mama’s to cut Mike Mike’s hair. It was just me and Mike Mike at the house. I was in a don’t-feel-like-puttin’-no-clothes-on-or-bein’-bothered mood. I had on one of my granny’s housedresses. We always called ’em dusters.

  Mike Mike was playing with his toys in the middle of the floor when Mike and me started to get into it. Mike started cursing at me and I wanted him out of the house. Until now I had shielded Mike Mike from our fights.

  As our voices got louder and louder, Mike Mike stopped playing and said, “Mama, what’s wrong?” His little eyes were starting to puddle up. “It too loud. I scared.”

  “Mike, you gots ta go. You want a fight, and I cain’t give you one. You need to leave, we cain’t be doin’ this in front of this boy,” I pleaded. “Mike Mike, go in the other room now!” I shouted.

  Mike Mike ran, but only to the other side of the room.

  “I ain’t leavin’!” Mike came closer to me.

  “Mama! Daddy! Mama!” Mike Mike had worked himself up to a full-blown cry.

  “Naw, fuck this!” Mike shouted, pushing me hard into the entertainment center. The television started to fall, but Mike caught it.

  “Watch out my mama!” Mike Mike screamed, covering his eyes.

  I stood up and tried to walk to the door.

  “Get out, Mike!” He pushed me with all his might, and I flew into the wall. I froze in fear. Even he was stunned by what he had done. I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t. My arm just clung to my body.

  “Aw shit, my arm! My arm!” Tears burst from my eyes and I was screaming in pain.

  Mike Mike ran over to me, his face frowned up. The more I cried, the harder he cried. Mike freaked out, darting from side to side. For the first time I saw that fear had gotten to him. He knew it was bad and he called 9-l-l, just before taking off running like the wind with the phone.

  The baby was OK, and my arm was put in a cast. My mama and daddy had gone around to the Browns’ to tell them but I didn’t even bother going. Mike eventually did his regular thing and told me how sorry he was.

  • • • •

  At nineteen, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. I made good on my promise that Brittanie could name her. Déja was born April 22, 1999.

  I only got a few minutes with Déja before the nurses took her away to the hospital nursery. It was so hard, because I wanted to hold her and feed her, but she had jaundice, so I had to watch Déja in the bassinet under them bili lights. When they brought Déja in the next morning, I was sitting in the window. They gently handed her to me. The nurses wanted her to get some natural sunlight. She was so tiny and delicate, and I must’ve stared at her all day, while I let the sun’s rays bathed her skin. When they first handed her to me, I was overwhelmed with love.

  I couldn’t wait for Mike Mike to meet his baby sister, and the day I brought her home to my mama’s house, he was jumping all around. He was almost three but was already making sure his baby sister was OK. I sat her baby seat down and turned away, and in a split second he had scooped her up and took off down the hallway with her in his arms like a football.

  “Boy, get back here!” I shouted, running after him. I caught him, quickly scooping Déja from his arms.

  “Mike Mike you scared me half to death!” I scolded, ready to tear his butt up.

  “But, Mama, I love her,” he said, looking up at me with the sweetest eyes.

  That was the first indication of how protective Mike Mike was going to be of his baby sister. From the time he was a toddler, he loved Déja, and he never stopped doting over her.

  • • • •

  My feelings weren’t there for Big Mike anymore, and it wasn’t working with our first baby and I knew a second baby wasn’t going to fix what was broke. I wanted out, but at this point I didn’t even know how I’d get out. I thought finally getting my own apartment when Déja was almost one would help let me do that.

  Who was I fooling? Mrs. Brown said she was helping to make Big Mike independent when she asked me if he could move in with me and the kids. I didn’t want him to, but she promised to help me pay my bills in exchange, and Lord knows I needed the money. We made a plan that when I went to work, Mike would watch the kids. Day after day, Mike’s friends and cousins were at my house kicking it.

  One day when I got home from my second job, I walked into the apartment. The television was blasting, the sink was full of dishes, clothes were on the floor—it looked like a tornado had touched down.

  “Mama!” Mike Mike ran toward me. Déja was walking right behind him.

  “My babies!” I wrapped my arms around them and closed my eyes tightly, inhaling real deep. Then it was like fire shot through my veins.

  “Mike!” I shouted, storming into the bedroom. “Mike, why these babies still in they pajamas?” I demanded. He was so engrossed in his video game, he didn’t even look up. “Mike! You hear me?”

  “Nette, I ain’t got no time to hear yo’ shit. Stop naggin’ me and get out my face,” he said, standing up, pushing past me and walking out the front door.

  In that instant, it was like I was finally unthawing from a deep freeze. It was time to stop banging my head up against a brick wall. I had enough. I wasn’t willing to let Mrs. Brown pay Mike’s way anymore. He had to go.

  • • • •

  It was the day before my birthday, December 18, and I didn’t need to turn another year older living this lie and pretending things were OK with Mike. I was glad he had started moving out. I dreaded that he was coming by tonight to get more of this things. I was in a festive mood, trying to get ready for my big party the next night. My cousin, Nina, and me were going to put up decorations and cook. We were just hanging out, listening to music
, having some drinks. Mike Mike was playing in the living room and I was holding Déja.

  Big Mike showed up like a dark cloud. When he walked into the apartment his face tightened when he saw Nina and my cousin. He never liked them.

  “I’m finna get the rest of my shit,” Mike said. He had some words for my cousin and Nina and then he turned to me, “And I’m tired of you!” His veins were bulging out of his neck. My cousin and Nina just tried to stay cool, but things were heating up fast. I stood up and handed Déja to Nina. I didn’t want my babies hearing all this cussing and hollering and screaming.

  “Hold up!” I was tired of hearing it and I wanted Mike to get the hell out.

  We began shouting back and forth and I got so angry that he was here, I swung my fist at him. Mike grabbed me and we got into a tussle. Nina immediately scrambled to get Mike Mike and held both my kids close. My cousin grabbed my phone.

  “You gotta leave, Mike,” I screamed. He was towering over me like a big concrete building, but I felt ten feet tall. I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me.

  “Shut the fuck up, Nette Pooh!” He warned.

  “Naw, Mike, this shit is over. Get out! I don’t want Mike Mike and Déja seein’ this!”

  He dragged me to the bedroom.

  The next thing I knew he reached into the top of the closet and pulled out a double-barreled shotgun.

  “What the fuck you sayin’ now!” he said training the gun on me. My eyes went wide. I didn’t even know he owned a gun.

  “Mike, what you doin’?” I screamed, and we began to wrestle. I knew if I was going to make it out that room, I had to fight. Mike Mike and Déja’s faces flashed before my eyes as Big Mike slammed me down on the bed and shoved the barrel of the shotgun against my throat. He started to choke me with it. I was gasping for breath. I could hear my babies screaming in the background. Tears flowed down my face. God, please don’t let my kids see this. God, don’t let this man kill me, I thought.

  I wriggled free and ran out into the living room. Nina and my cousin were holding my babies and Nina was trying to get the phone to call the police. She was shaking like a leaf.

  “Get out! Get out, and get my kids outta here!” Nina tried to grab a blanket to cover Déja, and ran out the house with the phone to her ear and my baby in her arms. I tried to cover Mike Mike’s eyes, and together we ran out. Mike was in the room still. I could hear glass breaking. We hid in a corner of the building. The sirens were blaring, getting closer and closer.

  “It’s gonna be OK,” I whispered, trying to keep them calm and stop their tears. Mike ran out, jumped in his car, and I heard his tires burn rubber outta there.

  “Mama, you OK?” Mike Mike asked, patting me on my arm.

  “I’m OK, Mike Mike,” I said, cupping his little face in my hands. “And everything is OK now. Mommy love you.” I just held him tightly and prayed this would all go away like a bad dream.

  The police came, and as they took a report, I thought about what I was doing. I saw what this whole night had done to our two kids. But did I really want them to see their daddy get locked up? No. So I decided not press charges.

  • • • •

  Nina moved in to be a babysitter so I could keep going to work. It was the best of both worlds. I could go to work, but then when I came home I was having fun. She cooked and cleaned, and helped me with the kids. She really had my back. We were having fun, and I was enjoying my apartment. But my finances were still tight.

  By the time I was twenty-two I was eligible for my own welfare.

  “Do you know you’ve had six jobs in one year, Miss McSpadden?” the nerdy white social worker asked me in a flat tone.

  “Yeah, you ’bout right,” I snapped, feeling like all my flaws were on display. What did I want to do with my life? I had to figure out a plan for myself. I couldn’t just keep going from job to job. I had my food stamps but didn’t have a paycheck. Until I could get a good job, I had to get some money coming in to pay for food, clothes, and day care. I had to get some independence with my own place, too.

  • • • •

  Sitting in the welfare office was humiliating. I never wanted to be there. But I had to put my pride aside, because my kids had to eat. As kids, we joked and called lean food days “Friday moments.” In other words, you got sugar, but no Kool Aid; peanut butter, but no jelly; bread, but no bologna. But I couldn’t just keep making rice and potatoes stretch. I needed help with groceries. I had seen my mama on welfare, and I didn’t like it. To me, public assistance was like losing, and I didn’t want to lose anymore. I took the assistance that day but promised myself to keep it at a minimum. I wanted to get off welfare as fast as I had got on.

  When I got home that night, I collapsed on the couch and held Déja and Mike Mike close to me. I was tired but I wanted to read to them and tuck them into bed. After they fell asleep, I told myself that tomorrow would be better.

  • • • •

  I had a stroke of luck. Brittanie had started doing work in the dietary department of another nursing home called Delmar Gardens. They had a job opening actually working with patients. This was my shot. Back when I was doing janitorial work at the nursing home, I noticed how the patients were being treated. I didn’t like it. I knew I could be good working with older people. I could definitely treat them kinder than the way I saw some of these nursing assistants and even nurses treating they patients. I didn’t have any experience. But there was one thing I was never short on and that was nerve. I decided to just go for it.

  I remember I was terrified walking up in Delmar Gardens when they called me in for an interview. The job would have me working with the patients, and the chance to actually get my Certified Nursing Assistant certificate. Getting a CNA would open even more doors for me.

  “Lord, please help me get this job,” I silently prayed to myself.

  There were four other girls in the waiting area. I smoothed down my blouse and skirt, shifted in my seat, and was hoping I didn’t start sweating. In the interview room two white women were sitting behind a table.

  “Close the door, Lezley,” the plump blond one said with a half smile. I had a dry lump in my throat. I sat down and smoothed my blouse again.

  “We weren’t gonna give you the job, based on your application,” the dark-haired one who was kind of scrawny said, pausing, then flipping through her notepad. I stopped breathing at that point.

  “But, errum . . .” My eyes got wide as she cleared her throat and drank a sip of water. “We were very impressed with your presentation. You are very professional, and your attire says you came here to get this job. Congratulations, Lezley!”

  I almost fainted and lay right on that table in front of them white women. Not only did they give me a try without the experience, but also I was able to get in a four-month CNA course. It was on!

  I worked at the nursing home and then took class once a week, and got paid to go. There were lots of other black women in the class who were older, and I was learning a lot from them, too. We’d bring fish-fry lunches, and I even put a weave in a coworker’s hair. When I went in front of the state board, I passed the test and got a fifty-cent raise and a title change.

  The biggest lesson I had to learn when it came to health care was to how to keep my emotions in check. I was proud that I was the kind of person who spoke my mind, but my mouth would also get me in trouble, and it lived up to its reputation for sure the day me and another CNA had an argument. I didn’t like how she was taking care of one of the patients, and we broke the rules and argued in front of the patient. I got fired on the spot.

  I was back to square one.

  • • • •

  One night Nina and me were going out. I was ready to kick it at the haunted house down on the riverfront. I dropped the kids off at Mrs. Brown’s house. When I made it back to Nina’s car, I let out a breath.

  “Whew, girl, I was so glad Mike’s ass wasn’t there,” I said.

  “Girl, that nigga crazy. I don’t
know how you deal with it!”

  We pulled off and turned the music up loud. We had just gotten a block away from the Browns’ when I saw Mike running toward the car.

  “Damn, Nina, there he go, fuck!”

  “I gotta stop; ain’t no other way for us to go,” she said, worried.

  She slowed down at the corner stop sign, and before I could lock my door, Mike ran up to the car and ripped my door open.

  “Get yo’ ass out the car, Nette!” he shouted, reaching toward me with his big hands.

  “Hold up, Mike!” I started swinging. “Why you doin’ this?” I screamed. I kicked and punched as hard as I could, but I wasn’t a match for his strength.

  Just then he swooped down with his right arm and pulled my wig off. All I could hear was Nina’s screams. “Mike, let Nette go, please!” She was crying, too.

  “So now you just gon’ be out like some ho?” Mike said, punching me.

  I was blocking my face, praying that he would stop hitting me. Suddenly, he did stop and pushed me down in the street. Nina helped me up. My hair was all over my head, and my head was throbbing from him pulling my hair, but I had managed to protect my face.

  “You feel like a man now, Mike? You got yo’ shit off now?” I was so angry and hurt that I was spitting as I shouted.

  “Fuck you, Nette!” he said, brushing his clothes down and walking away.

  Nina wiped my face off. I was busted up with bruises, but I put myself back together.

  That was the last time Mike hit me. I was determined he wasn’t going to stop my flow. I wasn’t married or on anybody’s lockdown. I was young and free and working on getting me in order.

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  FOOD ON THE TABLE

  My days were filled with running around trying to get everything done—paying bills, cleaning the house, working at F&G Foods, shuttling the kids to school, to Mrs. Brown’s, and to Mama’s. There wasn’t even time to breathe. But, busy as I was, I could feel myself smiling more, and the kids seemed happy. But men have a way of coming around, just when a woman has found calm waters.