Concrete Rose, page 2
“Hey, Shawn,” Ma says. “You making it?”
“Yes, ma’am. Looking out for your boy.”
“Good,” Ma says, and this time her voice dip.
No mother want their son in a gang, but no mother want their son dead either. Pops made so many enemies in the streets that I need somebody to have my back. He told Ma I had to join. Kinging run in my blood anyway. Ma’s brothers claimed it, then Pops and his cousins. It’s like a fraternity for us.
Ma think I’m an “associate” though, aka somebody who only claim it and don’t sling or put in work. She say this whole King Lord thing is temporary. She drill it into my head all the time – get my high school diploma and go away to college so I can get the hell away from all of this.
“We’ve got an appointment to get to,” she tells Shawn. “Be safe out here, baby.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Shawn look at me and nod. “Good luck, li’l homie.”
I nod back.
Ma pull outta the parking lot, and I watch the homies in the rearview mirror. They ball on the courts without a care in the world. I wish that could be me again.
Instead, I’m headed to the clinic to find out if King’s son is actually mine.
CHAPTER 2
The free clinic real busy for a Friday afternoon. Everybody in the Garden would rather come here than go to County ’cause folks who go to County rarely go home. Some man on crutches talk loud as hell on the pay phone like he want all of us to hear that he need a ride. Somehow, he ain’t woke up the lady in the wheelchair beside us. A girl around my age chase after this snot-nosed kid and call after him in Spanish.
Wild to think that could be me in a couple years.
This whole situation kinda complicated. King got this homegirl Iesha. She not his girlfriend, nah. They mess around a lot, if you know what I mean. Iesha known to mess around with a lot of dudes though. No disrespect, but it’s fact.
Around a year ago, Lisa broke up with me after Carlos claimed he saw me talking to another girl. A bald-faced lie but Lisa believed that fool for whatever reason. I went to King’s crib, stressed out ’bout it. He asked Iesha to get my mind off things. I wasn’t sure at first, ’cause it seemed wrong, like I was cheating almost. Once me and Iesha got into it, I forgot right and wrong.
At some point, the condom broke.
Now I’m at the free clinic waiting for DNA test results on Iesha’s three-month-old baby.
Ma’s leg won’t stay still, like she wanna run out this waiting room. She glance at her watch. “They should’ve been here by now. Maverick, have you talked to Iesha lately?”
“Not since the other week.”
“Lord. We gon’ have our hands full with this girl.”
Ma always talk to God. Usually it’s “Lord, keep me from hurting this boy.” Guess it’s nice she talking to him ’bout somebody else for once.
She claim I got her aging early from stress. She keep her hair in finger waves and got a couple of grays she shouldn’t have at thirty-eight. That ain’t my fault. It’s from them long hours she work. Ma check people into a hotel during the day and clean offices at night. I always tell her “I’m gon’ take care of you.”
She smile and says, “Take care of yourself, Maverick.”
For weeks it’s been “Take care of your son.” She convinced I’m his daddy.
I’m not. “Don’t know why we doing this,” I mumble. “He ain’t mine.”
“Why? Because you were only with that girl one time?” Ma asks. “That’s all it takes, Maverick.”
“She swear he King’s baby. They even named him after King.”
“Yeah, and who does he look like?” Ma says.
Maaaan … a’ight, she got me there. When King Jr. was first born, he didn’t look like anybody. All newborns resemble aliens to me. After a couple of weeks, he got eyes, nose, and lips similar to mine. King was nowhere to be found. Baby boy don’t resemble Iesha either.
That’s why King stopped dealing with Iesha altogether. She wanna prove to him that I ain’t the father and asked me to take a DNA test. So, here we are. Unless I got the worst luck in the world, ain’t no way that baby mine.
My beeper go off on my waist, and Mr. Wyatt’s number appear. That’s our next-door neighbor. I cut his front yard every week. He probably want me to do it today. I’ll have to hit him up later.
Ma watch me with a smile. “You think you something ’cause you got a pager, huh?”
I laugh. I bought this joint two months ago. Got it in that blue ice you can see through. Flyer than a mug. “Nah, Ma. Never.”
“How’s business going?” she asks. “How many yards are you doing now?”
Ma think I make money by cutting grass around the neighborhood. I do, but I make even more by selling drugs. The whole yard-cutting thing help to keep her in the dark. When she see me rocking new kicks or clothes, I act like I got them for cheap at the swap meet instead of the mall. I hate that I can lie to her so good.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’m at around ten yards right now. Tryna get as many as I can before it gets cold.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll find something else to do. Lord knows babies aren’t cheap. You’ll figure out how to make it work.”
I won’t have to. That baby ain’t mine.
The clinic door open, and Ms. Robinson come in. She hold the door open for somebody else. “Bring your fast behind in here!”
Iesha walk in, rolling her eyes. She got a baby bag on her shoulder and hold a car seat in her hand. Li’l man asleep inside it. His fist rest against his head, and his eyebrows all wrinkled, like he thinking something deep in his dreams.
“Hey, Faye,” Ms. Robinson says to Ma. “Sorry we late.”
Ma goes, “Mmm-hmm.” It ain’t approval or judgment. Then she look at me, like she expect me to do something. I stare back, all confused.
“Boy, give Iesha your seat,” Ma says.
“Oh! My bad.” I hop up. Ma stay on me ’bout being a gentleman.
Iesha take my chair and set the car seat at her feet. Ma suddenly starstruck.
“Aww, look at that little man,” she says in a voice she only use on babies. “He knocked out, huh?”
“Finally,” says Iesha. “Kept me up all night.”
“Ain’t like you had nowhere to go,” Ms. Robinson snips. “Miss I-Skip-Summer-School-to-Chase-Some-Boy.”
“Oh my God,” Iesha groans.
“He’ll sleep through the night soon,” Ma says. “Maverick didn’t sleep through the night until he was five months old. It was like he needed to know what was going on all the time.”
“He the exact same way,” Ms. Robinson says, eyeing me.
She can look at me all she want. That don’t make him mine.
Li’l man whine in the car seat.
Iesha sighs. “What now?”
“He probably wants his pacifier, baby,” Ma says.
Iesha put it in his mouth, and he suddenly good.
I study Iesha real hard. She got bags under her eyes she didn’t have before. “Anybody helping you with him?”
“Help?” her momma says, like I cussed. “Who supposed to help her? Me?”
“C’mon now, Yolanda,” says Ma. “This is a lot for anyone to handle, let alone a seventeen-year-old.”
“T’uh! She wanna act grown, she can deal with this like she grown. By. Her. Self.”
Iesha blink real fast.
I’m feeling real bad for her all of a sudden. “If he is mine, you won’t be doing this alone no more, a’ight? I’ll come over and help as much as I can.”
Five seconds ago, she looked ready to cry. Now she smirk at me. “Oh, word? Your girlfriend gon’ be cool with that?”
I don’t know how Lisa gon’ react. I figured if the baby wasn’t mine, she didn’t need to know ’bout any of this. If he is mine… “Don’t worry ’bout her,” I tell Iesha.
“Oh, I ain’t worried. You should be. Her stuck-up ass gon’ drop you quick.”
“Ay, don’t talk ’bout her like that!”
“Whatever. All them girls at Garden High who drool over you, and you go for the bougie Catholic-school girl. It’s all good. My baby ain’t yours. Soon as these results come back, I’m taking him to his real daddy, and we gon’ be a family. Watch.”
“Iesha Robinson!” the nurse calls.
We all look that way.
This is it.
“Go on,” Ms. Robinson tells Iesha.
Iesha get up, sighing outta her nose. “This so stupid.”
“What’s stupid is that two boys could be the daddy!” her momma calls after her. “That’s what’s stupid!”
Well, damn. Do me and Ma get into it? Hell yeah, all the time. But not in public like this.
Iesha come back and shove the envelope into her momma’s hand. “Bet I’m right. Bet!”
Ms. Robinson take the papers out and read over them. By that smug look she get, I know what they say.
“Congratulations, Maverick,” she says, staring at her daughter. “You’re a father.”
Shit.
“Jesus.” Ma hold her forehead. Saying he mine and knowing it two different things.
Iesha snatch the papers. She look them over, and her face fall. “Shit!”
“Damn, why you mad?”
“This should be King’s baby! I don’t wanna deal with your ass!”
“I don’t wanna deal with your ass either!”
“Maverick!” Ma snaps.
My son cry in the car seat.
Ma cut me a hard glare and pick him up. “What’s wrong, Man-Man? Huh?” She don’t have to know you long to give you a nickname. Ma sniff near his butt, and her nose wrinkle. “Oh, I know what’s wrong. Where are his diapers?”
“In the baby bag,” Iesha mumbles.
“Grab the bag, Maverick,” Ma says. “We’ll handle this.”
Suddenly, I got a son and he got a dirty diaper. “I don’t know how to change a diaper.”
“Then it’s time for you to learn. C’mon.”
Ma go into the women’s restroom and act like I should follow her in there. Hell nah. She come back to the door. “Boy, c’mon.”
“I can’t go in there!”
“Nobody’s in here. Until they put changing tables in the men’s room, c’mon.”
Damn, this ain’t cool. I follow her in. Li’l man cry his head off. I get why. That diaper stank. Ma hand him to me so she can search his bag, and I hold him away from me. I ain’t tryna get diaper doo on me.
“They sure got a lot of clothes in here,” Ma says. “Let’s see if she’s got some changing pads. If she doesn’t – never mind, she does.” Ma put one on the table. “All right, lay him down.”
“What if he fall off?”
“He won’t. There you go,” she says as I lay him down. “Now unbutton his—”
I miss the rest for staring at him.
Before when I’d look at him, I was in awe that something so little existed. Now I look at him and he mine, no question.
Worst part? I’m his.
I’m scared. I messed up. I only been seventeen for a month, and now I gotta take care of another person.
He need me.
He depending on me.
He gon’ call me Daddy.
“Maverick?”
Ma touch my shoulder.
“You’ve got this,” she says. “I got you.”
She don’t just mean the diaper.
“A’ight.”
I change my first diaper with her help. This nurse come in and see us struggling – it’s been a while since Ma did this – and give us some tips. Li’l man still fuss even though he clean. Ma hold him against her shoulder and rub his back.
“It’s okay, Man-Man,” she coos. “It’s all right.”
He soon calm down. Guess that’s all he needed to know.
I grab his bag, and we go to the waiting room. My son’s car seat on the floor with the DNA papers lying inside it. Ms. Robinson is gone.
So is Iesha.
CHAPTER 3
“That trifling heffa! And I don’t mean Iesha,” Ma says. “I mean her momma!”
Ma ain’t stopped fussing since we left the clinic.
At first I thought Iesha and Ms. Robinson stepped outside. Nah, they left. One of the nurses said she pointed out they were leaving the car seat. Ms. Robinson told her, “We don’t need it anymore,” and shoved Iesha out the door.
We went straight to their house. I banged on the doors, looked through the windows. Nobody answered. We had no choice but to bring li’l man home with us.
I climb our porch steps, carrying him in his car seat. He so caught up in the toys dangling from the handle that he don’t know his momma left him like he nothing.
Ma shove the front door open. “I had a funny feeling when I saw all them clothes in that diaper bag. They shipped him off without a word!”
I set the car seat on the coffee table. What the hell just happened? For real, man. I suddenly got a whole human being in my care when I never even took care of a dog.
“What we do now, Ma?”
“We obviously have to keep him until we find out what Iesha and her momma are up to. This might be for the weekend, but as trifling as they are…” She close her eyes and hold her forehead. “Lord, I hope this girl hasn’t abandoned this baby.”
My heart drop to my kicks. “Abandoned him? What I’m supposed to—”
“You’re gonna do whatever you have to do, Maverick,” she says. “That’s what being a parent means. Your child is now your responsibility. You’ll be changing his diapers. You’ll be feeding him. You’ll be dealing with him in the middle of the night. You—”
Had my whole life turned upside down, and she don’t care.
That’s Ma for you. Granny say she came in the world ready for whatever. When things fall apart, she quick to grab the pieces and make something new outta them.
“Are you listening to me?” she asks.
I scratch my cornrows. “I hear you.”
“I said are you listening? There’s a difference.”
“I’m listening, Ma.”
“Good. They left enough diapers and formula to last the weekend. I’ll call your aunt ’Nita, see if they have Andreanna’s old crib. We can set it up in your room.”
“My room? He gon’ keep me awake!”
She set her hand on her hip. “Who else he’s supposed to keep awake?”
“Man,” I groan.
“Don’t ‘man’ me! You’re a father now. It’s not about you anymore.” Ma pick up the baby bag. “I’ll fix him a bottle. Can you keep an eye on him, or is that a problem?”
“I’ll watch him,” I mumble.
“Thank you.” She go to the kitchen. “‘He gon’ keep me awake.’ The nerve!”
I plop down on the couch. Li’l Man stare at me from the car seat. That’s what I’m gon’ call him for now, Li’l Man. King Jr. don’t feel right when he my son.
My son. Wild to think that one li’l condom breaking turned me into somebody’s father. I sigh. “Guess it’s you and me now, huh?”
I hold my hand toward him, and he grip my finger. He small to be so strong. “Gah-lee,” I laugh. “You gon’ break my finger.”
He try to put it in his mouth, but I don’t let him. My fingernails dirty as hell. That only make him whine.
“Ay, ay, chill.” I unstrap him and lift him out. He way heavier than he look. I try to rest him in my arms and support his neck like Ma told me to. He whimper and squirm till suddenly he wailing. “Ma!”
She come back with the bottle. “What, Maverick?”
“I can’t hold him right.”
She adjust him in my arms. “You relax, and he’ll relax. Now here, give him the bottle.” She hand it to me, and I put it in his mouth. “Lower it a little bit, Maverick. You don’t wanna feed him fast. There you go. When he’s halfway through it, burp him. Burp him again when he’s done.”
“How?”
“Hold him against your shoulder and pat his back.”
Hold him right, lower the bottle, burp him. “Ma, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. In fact, you’re doing it now.”
I hadn’t realized Li’l Man stopped crying. He suck the bottle and grip my shirt, staring up at me.
I look at him. I mean look at him. Yeah, I see me – ain’t no denying he mine. More than that, I see my son.
My heart balloon in my chest.
“Hey, man.” For some reason this feel like I’m meeting him for the first time. “Hey.”
“I’m gonna throw his clothes in the washing machine,” Ma says. “Who knows what kinda germs they’ve got at that house.”
Don’t nobody hate germs like Ma. She got asthma, and the weirdest stuff can set her off.
“Thanks, Ma.”
She go back to the laundry room. I watch my son, and I gotta admit as much as I’m in awe I ain’t never been this scared in my life. He a whole human being that I helped make. Got a heart, lungs, a brain partly ’cause of me, and now I basically gotta keep him alive.
This almost too much. Definitely not how I planned to spend my Friday ni—
Oh, dang. The party. Ain’t no way Ma gon’ let me go.
I stop feeding Li’l Man long enough to dial Lisa’s number on the cordless phone. I hold it to my ear with my shoulder. It ring a couple of times, then she go, “Hey, Mav.”
I always forget that her momma got caller ID. “Hey. This not a bad time, is it?”
There’s a muffled sound like she moving around. “Nope. Just putting an outfit together for the party. Why? What’s up?”
I really feel like shit now. “Umm … I can’t take you out tonight. Something came up.”
“Everything all right?”
“Yeah. My momma want me to stay home and take care of stuff here.”
That ain’t a lie. It just ain’t all of the truth. This baby in my arms ain’t exactly a phone conversation, you know?
“Sounds like my momma,” Lisa says, and I can practically hear her roll her eyes. “I could come over and keep you company if you want.”
“Nah!”
I startled Li’l Man. His face scrunch up.
“My bad,” I tell him and Lisa, and bounce him a bit. Please, God, don’t let him cry. “You ain’t gotta spend your Friday watching me do chores. I’m a’ight.”
