Long Time Coming (3 page)

Deidre wiped at the tears."Tell it to Children's Services."

"W-w-wait." No social worker was going to call her unfit. Before Kenisha could stop herself, she blurted out, "I have cancer, okay? I was at the hospital getting a radiation treatment."

"What a terrible thing to say."

"It's more like a terrible thing to have. But it's true. You can call my doctor if you want." She dug in her purse and produced a small white business card."Here. Call Dr. Lawson if you don't believe me."

Jamal walked back in the room looking from his mom to Mrs. Morris. His mom had this angry look on her face, and Mrs. Morris was standing there with her mouth hanging open."Is something wrong?"

"No, baby. Let's just go. I need to get out of here," Kenisha told him as she grabbed his hand and swung open the front door.

"Wait," Deidre yelled.

Kenisha turned around to face her accuser."What else do you have to say, lady?"

"Look, I'm sorry that I accused you of neglecting Jamal. I've seen him around in school, and I've always thought he was well taken cared of."

Kenisha scoffed."Then why'd you say that stuff about Children's Services?"

Deidre put her hands to her head and massaged her temple."I've been going through some things lately. But I had no right to take my anger out on you."

"Yeah, Mama," Jamal chimed in."Mrs. Morris thought she was pregnant, but it turned out she wasn't."

"How do you know?" Kenisha turned to her son.

"Ask her," Jamal said."She was crying and everything."

Oh, Lord, Deidre thought. If Dr. Thomas found out that she had shared such personal information with a child, he would write her up for sure. She looked from Jamal to Kenisha and then said, "I was in the bathroom crying. Jamal walked in trying to see if I was okay. I'm sorry about blurting such a thing out. But I was in a bit of distress when he walked in on me."

Kenisha doubled over in laughter. When she pulled herself together, she said, "That's a first for me. The women I know get distressed when they find out they
are
pregnant."

Trying to get off the subject, Deidre said, "Well, look, if you need to talk or need my assistance with anything, you've got my number now, so please give me a call." With that, Deidre walked them to the car without so much as an offered prayer for Kenisha's infirmities.

K
enisha made Hamburger Helper as soon as she got home. Fed her kids and then put Diamond and Kennedy to bed. Jamal was like her, a night owl. She let him stay up, but never past eleven. His company usually kept her from feeling so lonely. But tonight, when he looked at her with those sad brown eyes, she wished she'd put him to bed with the girls.

"You got cancer?"

Kenisha got up, went into the kitchen, and started running some dishwater.

Jamal followed her."Do you have cancer?"

She turned to face him."What you know about cancer?"

A tear trickled down his young face."I know that my friend Joey's grandmother just died from it."

Kenisha turned off the dishwater and sat down at the small kitchen table. She patted the seat next to her, and her son joined her."Now, Jamal, you know that Joey's grandmother was old, right?"

"Right."

"But I'm not old. I'm too young to die, right?"

"Right."

She put his small hand in hers and rubbed up from his hand to his elbow."So don't think like that, okay?"

Jamal snatched his hand away and stood up."You've got it, don't you? I heard you tell Mrs. Morris that you had cancer."

Jamal was wise beyond his years, always had been. Kenisha had never been able to hide anything from him. No sense trying now. She lowered her head, twisted her lips."Yeah, baby. I've got cancer."

He cried. Kenisha held her son. His body jerked back and forth as his tears flowed. He held onto her so tight that Kenisha was afraid to let him go. She wanted to comfort him but didn't know what to say. Tears rushed to her eyes as she said, "Come on, Jamal. Stop all this crying. I'm going to need you to be strong for me. You've always been my little helper. And I'm really going to need you now."

Slowly he released his hold, sat back in his chair, and dried his eyes.

Kenisha wiped her own eyes and silently commanded her chin to stop quivering. She had to be strong for Jamal."Are you going to help me through this, Jamal?"

"I can do it. I'll take care of you, Mama."

She grabbed him and hugged him tight."That's my little man." It was hard, but she pulled away from the embrace, patted his hand."Everything's going to be okay. You'll see."

Jamal gave her a weak smile.

"Off to bed with you. I'm going to finish these dishes and go to bed myself. We can watch a movie tomorrow night. Okay?"

Jamal got up. He didn't argue about going to bed before eleven. He kissed his mother on the cheek and walked away.

Her chin started quivering again as she watched Jamal walk away. Jamal had brought so much joy into her life, but Kenisha still remembered the pain he'd caused her.

Tears of regret sprang into Kenisha's eyes as the doctor shouted, "Push!"

"No. I can't."

"You acted like a grown woman when you spread your legs to make this baby. Act like one now and push him out."

She barely knew this man in the white coat, crouched between her legs, demanding that she push her baby out of a hole that was too small for some grapefruit-size head to get through. She turned to James, pleading her case."He's too big. I can't get him out."

James wiped away the tears that trickled down Kenisha's ashen face."You can do this, Ke-Ke. You're a woman now. Remember that."

Smirking, the doctor mumbled, "I've never met a fifteen-year-old woman."

Strength from way down deep grew in Kenisha as she shifted her swollen body to look Dr. Holton in the eye. He was disrespecting her. People got cut for messing with others like that where she came from.

"I've been taking care of myself for more years than I can count," she told him, then stilled herself as an explosion ripped through her body. Pain so sharp and mind-blowing, it made her want to travel back to the beginning of time, snatch Eve up by her nappy roots, and smack the fruit juice out of her mouth.

"You okay, Ke-Ke?"

She wanted to smack James too. All his "baby, baby, pleases" had put her in this predicament. But her desire to wipe that smug, betyou-
wish-you'd-listened-to-your-mama look off Dr. Holton's face directed her energy toward her belly. Panting as the pain subsided, she told them, "This baby is ready to meet his mama."

"Then push," Dr. Holton said.

Grinding down, Kenisha pushed, not once, but three times, before her sweat-drenched body collapsed on the bed.

"I've got the head," Dr. Holton said, as he positioned himself to extract the shoulders."One more push, Kenisha.come on. You can do it."

Her insides were exploding, or were they imploding? She really didn't care what the correct term was. She was ready to throw in the towel, scream "Uncle," call for a truce, or beg this big-headed baby for mercy. How on earth was she supposed to push again? She was dying. Couldn't they see that? Dr. Holton was right. The delivery room was no place for a fifteen-going-on-thirty-five-year-old girl.
There, she'd admitted it. Now could somebody please get this baby out!

If she died with her baby half in, half out, everyone would know she was a fraud—she couldn't really handle life.

She thought about praying. But she hadn't done much of that since she was nine years old, sneaking out to Sunday school at the church down the street from the Arlington Courts project homes where she'd aged beyond her years. That's where she'd heard that Bible story about a woman who wanted a child more than anything.
The woman promised God that if He gave her a child, she would give the baby back to Him. Another pain shot through her and she screamed, "He's Yours, God, just help me through this."

The next few minutes passed like a blur. Her last push was faint, but she felt like Christmas had come when the pain of birth subsided.
Then she heard the cry of her child and knew that God had been with her.

James moved a few strands of wet hair from her face."You did it, Ke-Ke. Our son is here."

Stretching out weary arms, she said, "Hand me my son."

The nurse had just finished cleaning the baby. She looked to Dr.
Holton. He nodded his approval.

She couldn't sit up. So when the nurse put her baby in her hands, she brought him to her lips and kissed his forehead. She and James had already picked out a name for their son. As best she could, Kenisha lifted Jamal Anthony Moore and proclaimed, "He's a gift from God."

How could this be happening to her? What was God thinking when he let her get cancer? Didn't he know she had three children to raise?

Getting up, she walked back to the sink and started putting the glasses in the water. Once again, she had found herself in another situation that proved God didn't care about her or her children. She swished a drinking glass around in the water a few times. She pulled it out of the water, but instead of rinsing the bubbles from the glass she threw it against the kitchen door.

"You're not fair," she screamed at God as the shattered glass cascaded down the wall."What am I supposed to do now?"

The patter of six little feet could be heard as Kenisha's children ran toward the kitchen."Mommy, what's wrong?" asked Diamond, her second oldest.

Kenisha had been staring at the shattered glass when her children ran into the kitchen. She turned around and looked at them. Jamal was eight and her rock. He was the man of the house. Diamond was five and was the typical middle child, always thinking the world was against her or that nobody cared about her. She'd given up thumb-sucking at the age of three; however, when she was sad or mad, that thumb found its way to her mouth. Kennedy was only two. She was still in diapers and refused to be potty trained—only admitting to doing "the number two" after it was already in her diaper. Her babies were too young to live without a mother.

Kenisha got down on one knee, she opened her arms wide."Come here," she called to her children. They ran into her arms, and Kenisha hugged them all."I'm sorry, kids. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"What wong?" Kennedy asked in her two-year-old dialect.

"Nothing's wrong, honey. Mommy's angry, but I shouldn't have been so loud. Now, you guys go back to bed, and I promise to be quiet."

"Are you sure you're okay, Mom?" Jamal asked.

Kenisha wiped away the tears that fell down her face. This was the second time tonight that he'd seen her crying."Yes, hon, I'm okay. Can you put your sisters back to bed for me?"

Jamal grabbed his two sisters' arms."Come on, back to bed."

Kenisha sat down on the floor and watched her children walk away as if this was the last time she would ever see them. She put her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the moans that wanted to escape. But she couldn't stop the tears that came back like a river that forever flowed. Her eyes blurred, but she kept watching Jamal shuffle her little girls down the hall. When she lost sight of them, she stood up and ran to the edge of the kitchen, and with her head popping out of the doorway, she watched them march upstairs.

It's not fair,
she thought as she crouched down to pick up the shards of glass off the floor. Her mother had been an alcoholic who never did anything for her children that wouldn't first benefit her, but she had already outlived one child and would probably outlive another. Kenisha really didn't understand how horrible mothers like Martha Carson were able to live long enough to ruin the lives of children, but a mother like herself, who only wanted the best for her children, would probably never see them graduate from high school, go to college, start their first job, get married, or have children of their own.

Three out of five of her mother's children never finished high school. One was a crackhead, two were unwed mothers, and one was murdered by her drug-dealing boyfriend. Her youngest sister, Angelina, was the only one of them who was even trying to make something of herself. She was in her third year of college and didn't have time to babysit, let alone have any rug rats of her own running behind her. Sitting down on the couch in the living room, Kenisha wondered if Angelina would consider taking her kids if Kenisha didn't make it through this.

She picked up the remote, propped her feet up on the couch, and said to herself as she turned the TV on, "Only one way to find out. I need to ask her."

"What's the reason for this family meeting? " Aisha asked impatiently.

"Yeah, and I want to know why you think you're grown enough to schedule a family meeting, when that's my job," Martha, Kenisha's mother called out from the couch where she lay with her head propped on a pillow.

Kenisha had called her brother and two sisters and asked them to meet her at her mother's apartment. Actually, Kevin was already at her mother's. His girlfriend had kicked him out two years ago, and he hadn't been able to find another woman with low enough self-esteem to offer him another free place to stay.

Clearing her throat, Kenisha stood in front of her family and said, "I asked you all to meet me here, because I have something important to say. As soon as Angelina gets here, I'll tell everyone what I need you to know."