Monday, March 14, 2011

Separating The Good From The Bad

 I became a slave to society as soon as I entered this hell. Strong willed, refusing to show weakness, I refused to cry. Then the doctor slapped me on my naked ass and the controversy began. Little did I know the repercussions would not stop there. All of my life I was reprimanded for my strong will. Tossed back and forth from the streets to home, I learned that they were the same place. Mama always had a hustle. She had also always had a selfish streak. I was just another hustle. Not knowing who my daddy was, Mama pawned me off to the highest bidder. Since I was light skinned, I stood a better chance in the divided world where the only dominant color was green. Since I had grown up, the most important lesson that I took with me, was to always love me no matter what anyone said.

Ten years had passed me by. I sat on the broken step of a crack house with no particular thought in mind. My hands trembled. My throat ached. The sun beat on me like a two dollar whore refusing a trick. This was where I had landed. Loving me, depending only on me. Disregarding the help of the good intentioned people along the way. Always thinking that someone was out to get me, when the truth was, everyone was trying to help me. Accusing my high school math tutor of soliciting sex from me, when he was just trying to teach me how to divide and figure out that damn algebra. I had lost myself within myself. Who was I to refuse the kindness of strangers and the familiar faces that had known my struggles all too well. My childhood was no secret. The entire neighborhood knew who I was. Most of them had witnessed the fights between Mama and me. They had also saw the many police raids.

I was no different than the rest of the abandoned children thrown to the streets. Society had labeled me as a misfit, junkie, whore, trash. But one man saw something in me that I didn't even see. Everyone called him “The Mechanic”. He was known to fix cars around the neighborhood. Skinny as a twig, clothes falling off of the malnourished bones I called a body. This man made a bed for me on his sofa. Worn like a pair of shoes, the holes in the cushion were as big as I was. Ever so grateful, I laid there quiet so that he could finish polishing his silverware. He said it was a gift from his great grandmother that got it from her great grandmother years ago. A white woman had given it to her as a peace offering for ruining her life. A platter of silverware made in the early eighteen hundreds worth about two thousand dollars nowadays, hardly enough to compensate for enslaving a human race. Once I knew the story, it angered me to see The Mechanic polishing that twenty piece dinner set. That's what his great great grandmother did all the time to please her massa.

My eighteenth birthday had rolled around. The Mechanic had gotten drunk. He offered me a beer, but I declined. After I seen the devil in him, I wanted nothing to do with that potion. My virginity was far from me. Not my choice though. Physically I was too weak to fight. Mama was suppose to be my strength, but her mind was weaker than mine. The Mechanic didn't overpower me at all. Once that demon left him, I was all his. I could smell traces of it on his breath, but his temperament was calm and comforting.

Now I sit with a legacy of my own in my belly baking for the summer time. Don't know who it is yet. Really don't care. A boy would lead a nation and a girl will birth a new one. Life meant something to me. The Mechanic's liver couldn't gain handle on that demon. They laid him in the ground this afternoon. I cried only because my hormones were out of wack. Emotions were limited in my life, having seen so much. The walls began whisper in that old house. I had to get out of there. As soon as my bare feet hit the pavement, my legacy was born! Great news everyone! I have a soldier for the army. Not the American army. I wouldn't dare do that to my blood. I'm talking about the army of life. A man that will lead this nation to victory with his knowledge and wisdom, not his fist or his gun.

Paying back my ancestors with getting off my ass and working, I became a woman. The Mechanic had left me a few coins in his will. The rest went to his wife and children on the other side of town. Shit happens!


Anonymous said...

searing ... soul-releasing songs of pain n heartache with a veneer of bravado n worldliness ... what a truthful style u write with.

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