Tell the Truth & Shame the Devil

by Lezley McSpadden

  I would see Andre around the Walnut Park area. Walnut Park was in North City near where we lived on Mimika and Emma. Everybody knew him and gave him respect, and in the hood that made you “the Man.”

  Andre’s hood props were mainly because in the streets he was a small-time dealer, the local bud man. He was a couple years younger than me, and if I was out in the streets with friends, he’d try to holler, but I was like, “Boy, please.” I didn’t think anything of it until one day while I was at work I looked out the door and saw a brand-new, spotless, white Regal pull up and park. It was Andre.

  “What you doing here, Andre?” I asked, giving him a skeptical look.

  “Lezley, that’s my son!” Rita called out from the back. Andre was grinning so hard his face could have broke.

  “Lezley, my son really like you,” she said, pulling me to the side. “Now, I told him he can’t handle you. You got two kids and you ain’t got no time to play no games.”

  I fanned him and Rita off and wasn’t thinking about no Andre, but then he started showing up, waiting on me to get off work, or he’d bring me something to eat. The more we talked, the more I started liking him.

  Andre started making me feel important. My flaws didn’t bother him. Andre showed me attention. He treated me like a lady.

  But I was still trying to tighten my life up so I was taking it really slow. Besides, I wanted to really know the man before I got involved again. I need someone who could love me enough and love my kids as well.

  I didn’t renew my lease on my apartment because I couldn’t afford it by myself. So me and the kids moved back home to Mama’s on Edmond.

  When Andre brought Déja a battery powered car for her second birthday, Mike was standing across the street with some friends. He just watched us.

  Three days later, Mike came driving down the street with a friend. He saw me sitting in the car with Andre and he threw a bottle at his car, shattering one of Andre’s windows. Andre got so mad, he burned rubber down the block trying to get back to his house. I tried to calm him down, but there was no getting through to him. Next thing I knew he was out of the car and had jumped in his other car and left me behind.

  When I got back to my mama’s house I found out that Mike and Andre had had a run in and Andre had used his gun. Luckily nobody got shot. At that point, I couldn’t communicate with Mike anymore, and I had to put Andre on ice. I was distraught. I had to decide if I was going to end my relationship with Andre or not.

  Mike was still living with his parents. I hated being so close to where he was, but it meant the kids still got a lot of time with the Browns and we were close to Pine Lawn Elementary where Mike Mike was going to go that fall.

  It was a big moment for me to drop Mike Mike off at Kindergarten on his first day. I wanted the teacher to know how special he was to me.

  Taking Mike Mike to school and kissing him goodbye was one of my favorite parts of the day, that and getting him ready.

  I was a young mama and I loved dressing him up, especially when he went to school. Mike Mike had always been a husky kid, short and chunky, and making sure his clothes had a good fit was challenging at times. Mrs. Brown would cut, hem, sew, nip, and tuck, and we would get him right. His hair was always in a fresh low cut.

  Before I knew it, he was in second grade. I had a meeting with his teacher who was concerned that Mike Mike was facing some challenges.

  “Miss McSpadden, we think Michael has ADHD, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. He is having difficulty concentrating.” She was very matter-of-fact. “They have medicines for this type of thing.”

  I cocked my head to the side, trying to process what she had just said to me. “Hold up, ma’am. Are you saying something is wrong with my son?”

  “It’s a learning disorder,” she said.

  “What do you mean learning disorder? He learns perfectly fine at home. He plays video games, puts puzzles together, and he recites things back to me.” I swallowed hard to keep from being emotional. I don’t know what kid his age is going to pay attention the whole time.

  “Well, Miss McSpadden, it’s just an observation. The school can help if you decide to get further evaluation.”

  “Thank you for your observation, ma’am, but with all due respect, I observe him every day. We don’t need any medicine.” I grabbed my purse. “We are going to be all right, I’ll take my son to his doctor to get a proper evalutation,” I said politely and strutted out that room.

  I was smart enough to know that a whole bunch of medicine can’t be good for anybody, let alone a kid.

  I took him to the doctors anyway, just to be safe. They immediately gave him a prescription of Aderall. Mama gave him the medicine once in his food and it had Mike Mike walking around like a zombie. I told her never to give it to him again. I even told the school that. Nothing was wrong with my son.

  • • • •

  Mrs. Brown got Mike Mike a bike. It was so exciting to see him learn to pedal and balance, and suddenly he was off. I was worried about him riding through the neighborhood. I warned him and Mrs. Brown about him riding off her street. Pine Lawn might not be the projects, but it was rough over there, known for gangs. I wanted an adult to have him in sight. I didn’t want him riding around the corner on Crescent or Lorraine. These kids were capable of taking his bike, and I didn’t want him to get hurt.

  Sure enough, not long after he got the bike, I was in the car with Andre when his phone rang.

  I could hear Mike Mike talking fast, “Andre, some boy knocked me off my bike and took it!”

  His words were choppy, he was crying so hard. I was anxious, trying to get the phone from Andre. He waved me off.

  “Hold up, Mike Mike. Calm down,” Andre said.

  “What happened?” I couldn’t hear Mike Mike’s voice no more. “Uh-huh, OK. I’m on my way.”

  I was a nervous wreck and Andre wouldn’t tell me anything. He just pressed his foot on the gas to get us to Pine Lawn faster.

  “Mike Mike, who got your bike?” I demanded when we got there.

  “I don’t know, Mama,” he said, looking down.

  “Yes, you do, damn it!” I was getting revved up.

  “Hold on, Lezley. He a boy; I know where he coming from. Don’t worry, Mike Mike. You wait here.”

  Andre told Mike Mike to get in the car. Within minutes they spotted the kid sitting on Mike Mike’s bike. Andre grabbed the kid by his collar and made him give Mike Mike’s bike back. Andre didn’t hurt the kid, but he put some fear in him.

  Andre could be so attentive and caring and giving. But on the flipside he was becoming more and more controlling. He would snap on me when we’d be talking, and the next thing you know we were arguing and cursing each other out. But when he was taking care of my baby, I was happy.

  When they pushed the bike up the walkway Mike Mike was so excited it was as if Superman had come to his rescue.

  Mike Mike was always my child who didn’t ask for much and whenever somebody did something for him, he was grateful. He was bigger than most of the kids in his class and that made him a little self-conscious. He wouldn’t even take his shirt off when he went swimming. At the same time, everyone at school seemed to like Mike Mike. We got through ADHD evaluations. I just kept pushing him to be the best he could be. I was a single mother, but I always let my presence be known at his school. So if the teachers could give him a little extra help in reading or writing, that’s what I made sure happened. I was determined to make the school see how special he was.

  We hit a bump when he had a scuffle with two boys who double-teamed him at school in a fight. I freaked out when the principal called. I raced through the front door of Pine Lawn Elementary and burst into the principal’s office. I spotted a kid who was wearing French braids and one of his braids had been pulled loose. Another kid was sitting nearby and his shirt was half outta his pants. I was afraid to see my child with a black eye, a busted lip, or worse. But when I found him sitting at a desk in a small area
off the principal’s office perfectly fine, I was confused.

  Mike Mike was quietly eating his lunch just like nothing had happened.

  “Hi, Mama!” He said totally unbothered.

  Ms. Baker, the principal, was a petite, skinny white lady. She looked kind of nervous when she saw me coming because she knew I didn’t play when it came to Mike Mike or Déja. I was always up at his school—picking him up, going to parent-teacher conferences, or making sure he got that little bit of extra help in reading and writing.

  “Ms. Baker, this isn’t how my son’s been taught. He doesn’t act like this!” I pleaded.

  She asked me to calm down, then explained that the three boys had gotten into it at lunch. As punishment she had each of them write an essay on nonviolence. Mike Mike chose to write about Martin Luther King Jr. and she wanted to highlight him at the Board of Education. She thought it would be inspiring for all the kids to hear Mike Mike’s words.

  I was speechless and filled with pride. I knew that it wasn’t a good thing that he had had the fight with the boys. But that he had written something that even the principal was proud of took my breath away.

  On the day of the assembly, Mike Mike stood in front of a microphone and bravely read his essay out loud. Mike Mike had his family there cheering him on. When he finished reading, they gave him a big gold sticker.

  “Mama! Look they gave me a gold sheriff’s badge,” he bragged.

  “Mike Mike that’s not a badge, it’s a gold star and it means you’re officially smart.”

  My heart felt so big. I was crying as I told him how proud I was of him and hugged him hard.

  Sometimes, with all three of us running around so much, I worried that he didn’t know how proud I was of him and what a help he always was to me.

  With Mike Mike and Déja both in school now. It was getting harder to juggle getting them back and forth and keeping a job that had reasonable hours. But I had started working at the Abbey Nursing Home. Miss Vivian was my charge nurse and supervisor, and it was a lifesaver when she told me I could bring my kids there after school. My coworkers were cool too, but I was still nervous about bringing the kids to work.

  The first afternoon I did it, I took one of my breaks just before they got out and went to pick them up. Andre would come get them after they did their homework and take them to my mama’s house.

  Before we went inside, I explained the rules one last time. “Now y’all know you at Mama’s job. This is how I pay the bills and keep food on the table and clothes on y’all’s backs. So y’all gotta be quiet and mind your manners. Mike Mike, remember you the oldest, so I’m dependin’ on you.”

  “Yes, Mama,” Mike Mike nodded and grabbed Déja ’s hand.

  “Déja, make sure you listen to your brother,” I said, turning to her.

  “Okay, Mama,” she said, gripping Mike Mike’s hand tightly.

  I put them in an empty room and gave one last warning. “Mike Mike, what you gonna do?”

  “I’mma sit here and wait on Mama ’cause she gonna be back here soon!” he proudly repeated. I couldn’t help but smile.

  Sure enough, it being an unfamiliar place, those little rug rats got out of that room and started looking for me. One of my coworkers caught them wandering and ran and got me. Mike Mike was leading Déja around; she followed his every move. I had to chuckle at how cute they were.

  We had got on a good routine at my job. I’d see a couple clients, then check on them.

  “Mama, Déja in here scared,” he said, laughing.

  “Stop!” Déja would swat him and poke her lip out.

  “Mama, Déja scared of the old people because they be slobbin’ and some of ‘em got their tongues hangin’ out,” he laughed, sticking his tongue out his mouth.

  “Mike Mike stop that!” I didn’t want anybody to see him, but I was struggling to hold my laugh in.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  GHETTO ROSE

  Me and Andre were far from perfect, but he always made up for any problems by taking care of me when it came to money. He even got me a car. I saw that this was his way of having control, but I put up with his attitude and behavior.

  Andre was getting bigger in the streets and so was his ego. We got an apartment together, but within a matter of weeks he was showing me signs that felt like a man cheating. He didn’t come home for two weekends in a row. Mama was impressed with Andre. So when I told her I was going to put him out she tried to convince me not to do it.

  “Nette, this man payin’ all the bills, and takin’ care of you. You need to be with him.”

  “Mama, I got a job. I can pay my own bills!”

  I didn’t care. When he finally got back in, I put him out. He tried to explain that him being gone was part of his lifestyle. He was a D-Boy, and sometimes they just had to be out all night to make money. Some women can handle it. Some can’t. I was definitely beginning to wonder which one I was. I knew he had to hustle, but I also wanted him home with me. Even though the question of whether or not I really wanted to be with a man in the streets like that was in the back of my mind, I decided to stick it out, and stay with him.

  • • • •

  That good news for our family was that Mama was about to welcome another grandbaby. Brittanie was pregnant with her first child, a girl.

  The night she went into labor, I was half-asleep on the couch in Mama’s TV room and I could hear Brittanie talking to Mama. Then, she came in and held up her hand, “Mama said this looked like a chicken bone.”

  “Girl, that’s your mucus plug.”

  Neither one of us believed her until her water broke just as the ambulance arrived. I dropped the kids off at Mrs. Brown’s on the way to the hospital. Mama stayed in the waiting room with Déja, and I was in the room with Brittanie.

  I didn’t know what was wrong with me, I had to rest every time Brittanie got done pushing, but I was right there with her. I never left her side. She gave a final push and out came a beautiful baby girl. I looked out the window and smiled. It was January 19, 2004, and the first snow of the new year was falling. Now it was my turn to name a child. I had the perfect one for her, too.

  I held her in my arms, before anyone, Brittanie or my mama, and looked into her tiny eyes, then I handed Brittanie li’l miss. Lakiah Deayra. We decided to call her Kiah for short.

  • • • •

  Andre always said he wanted me to have his baby. Here we were six years later and two lines were staring back at me again.

  Sitting across from Andre I said, “I got some news. Well, I’m pregnant.”

  “Wow, you gonna have my baby? That’s the bomb! I’mma be a daddy!” Andre was practically jumping around with excitement.

  A smile spread across my face. This was something that we both wanted. When you with a man and you get pregnant and you know that you both want the same thing it’s a good feeling. I was happy he was in this with me. Me and Brittanie both lived with Mama, where I’d stay through most of my third pregnancy. Mike Mike fell in love with Kiah right away. He sat on the couch and very tenderly held the newest member of our family. For such a chunky, big kid he was always very gentle.

  My pregnancy was moving along and Andre went with me to find out what I was having. I walked out of the doctor’s office to where Nina was sitting with Andre.

  “I’m having a boy,” I said, holding up the ultrasound.

  “Look at this picture!” She jumped up, holding up a magazine ad with a Chinese baby pictured on it. “Andre said this how ya’ll baby ’gon look!” She said cracking up. Then me and him busted out laughing too.

  “My son gonna be a junior, too!” Andre just couldn’t stop starring at the ultrasound picture.

  Then one morning, several months later, I was getting Déja ready for school. Mike Mike had stayed over with the Brown’s the night before.

  “Mama you peed on yourself,” she said, tapping me on the back.

  “No I didn’t, Déja,” I said, looking down, confused by the puddle
of water I was standing in.

  I knew something was wrong. I called Mr. Brown to come and get Déja and take her to school. By the time I reached the hospital with Brittanie and Nina, I was in labor. Andre got there just in time. The baby’s heart rate was racing, and his blood pressure was elevated. I was terrified. The doctor gave me an emergency C-Section.

  Andre was right there and his chest was all poked out. He was the proud new father of Andre Jr. Delivered September 21, 2004. He weighed five pounds eight ounces, and because of his low birth weight he couldn’t suck his bottle very well. So, I had to massage his jaws when I fed him to encourage him to keep sucking. Once he’d get all his milk down I’d say, “That’s my moo moo!” So the name Moo Moo just stuck. Andre’s phone had been buzzing like crazy from the time he got to the hospital. So, he ended up leaving a little while after the baby was born. It rubbed me the wrong way, but I was too busy looking into my new baby boy’s face, amazed that he had made it here after such a big scare.

  • • • •

  Meanwhile, my living situation was erratic, and I was running from pillar to post, but there were bigger things at play.

  Big Mike called to let me know that Mr. Brown had been sick, but no one knew it was as bad as it was. He had had a bad cough in recent months, and Big Mike told me that his dad had gone to the hospital on Monday.

  On Thursday when the phone rang, I was hoping Mike had good news, but the long pause on the phone when I answered was the news I dreaded. Mike’s voice was empty and weak.

  “Nette, he died.”

  “Aw, man, do you want me to come up to the hospital?”

  “Yeah, please.”

  That might have been one of the very few times I heard Mike break down. He was hurt, weak, and lost. I needed to just get there to see Mr. Brown.

  Andre flipped out and didn’t understand that this wasn’t about consoling Big Mike. This was about supporting the family. All of me and Mike’s bullcrap had to be thrown out. We had children together. Mr. Brown had been like a father to me. But more than that, he had a special relationship with Mike Mike. Déja was seven and telling her would be much easier than Mike Mike, who was ten now. He was maturing and I worried he’d have more questions than I had answers for. I had to tell him that the man who’d been his hero was gone.