Push Read online

  Umm hmmm. She point D, then A, then Y. She say do you know that word? No I don’t but I say silence. She say, ” ‘Day,’ that word is ‘day.’ ” She point back at A, then “DAY,” then point at A, T, say, “What’s that word?” I say, “Ate.” She say,

  “Good! Almost! That word is ‘at.’ ” Then point next word. I say, “The”; then she point last word.

  I say, “Beach,” but I’m not sure, I know B in

  “beach,” no B in that word. She say, ” ‘Shore,’

  that word is ‘shore,’ that’s almost like ‘beach,’

  very good very good,” she say. Then she say in soft voice like cat purr (I always wishted I had a cat), “Can you read the whole thing?” I say, “A Day at the Beach.” She says very good and closes the book. I want to cry. I want to laugh. I want to hug kiss Miz Rain. She make me feel good. I never readed nuffin’ before.

  Wednesday can’t come fast enuff” I’m thinking as I walk down one-two-five. I loves Harlem, especially 125th Street. Lotta stuff” out here. You could see we got culchure. I gotta ask my muver for some money for journal book and pay Rhonda back for chips. This gonna be good school for me I know it.

  My muver is in the middle of her stories when I come in—TV, TV She shout on me the minute I open the door.

  “Bring your fat ass in here!”

  What she think I was doing? I’m tired; I don’t want no trouble.

  “Where you sneak your ass off to this morning?”

  She look like whale on couch. My muver have not left the house in, let’s see—1983, ‘84, ‘85,

  ‘86, ‘n now ‘87. Ever since Little Mongo was born.

  Social worker come here. I be at school. My grandmuver, Tbosie, bring Little Mongo over on days social worker come; game is Little Mongo live here, my mama take care of Little Mongo and me. My mama get check ‘n food stamps for me ‘n Lil Mongo. But it’s my baby. Little Mongo is money for me!

  “You hear me talking to you! I said where you sneak your ass off to this morning!”

  “School!” I shout back. “I was school!”

  “You was school?” Mama mimic me how I talk. I hate that! She know what I mean. “You lying whore!”

  “Not!”

  “You is! The welfare done called here, saying they is removing you from my budget ‘cause you not in regular attendance at school.”

  JeeZUS! Where she been! I told her I got kickted out. I been home three weeks, twenty-four seven. She here when Mrs Lichenstein’s white ass come here. I mean Mama what’s the deal!

  Who stupid, me or Mama?

  “What you staring at?”

  To get to my room I got to walk past Mama. I jus’

  wanna go to my room.

  “I ain’ had no breakfast,” Mama say.

  Oh, so that’s it. She want me to cook. Mad

  ‘cause I ain’ cook ‘fore I left. Shit, get tired of cooking for her. It hard for Mama to stand up long. I look at her. She ain’ circus size yet but she getting there. Usta be when I go to regular school Mama make me fix breakfast, bring it to her room ‘fore I leave. But since I be outta school I just fix it a little later. She know today I was goin’ to alternative.

  “I tole you I was goin’ to school today.”

  “Forget school! You better git your ass on down to welfare!”

  “I gonna get stipend for school.”

  “Fool fuck a stipend! What’s that. I said take your ass down to welfare NOW!”

  “Now?” She know I got to be there at 7 a.m. if I gonna get to talk to anybody. Welfare very crowded nowadays. “I go in the morning first thing.”

  Same thing in me when I try to hit Mrs Lichenstein ‘n when I grabbed the knife in the dishwater—only deeper. I think my mind a TV set smell like between my muver’s legs. I stupid. I ain’ got no education even tho’ I not miss days of school. I talks funny. The air floats like water wif pictures around me sometime. Sometimes I can’t breathe. I’m a good girl. I don’t fucks boyz but I’m pregnant. My fahver fuck me. And she know it.

  She kick me in my head when I’m pregnant. She take my money. Money for Little Mongo should be mine. A Day at the Beach Shore A Day A Day ABC Alphabetical order CD ABCD. I grab my notebook. I look at my muver.

  “I go to welfare tomorrow—Tuesday. Wednesday I go to school. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I go to school.”

  I look Mama. This baby feel like a watermelon between my bones getting bigger and my ankles feelin’ tight cause they swoled. I sigh. This gonna end, even if it end by me stop breathing. Thas what I want sometimes. Sometime I hurt so bad I want to not wake up, want breathing to stop in my sleep. Have me don’t wake up. Other times I start to go a huh a huh ahuh ahuh A HUH A HUH

  and I grab my chess ‘cause I can’t breathe, then I ainʼt breathin’bad.

  I try to forget I got baby in me. I hated borning the first one. No fun. Hurt. Now again. I think my daddy. He stink, the white shit drip off his dick.

  Lick it lick it. I

  HATE that. But then I feel the hot sauce hot cha cha feeling when he be fucking me. I get so confuse. I HATE him. But my pussy be popping.

  He say that, “Big Mama your pussy is popping!” I HATE myself when I feel good.

  “How long you gonna stand there like you retarded.*’

  I start to tell her don’t, don’t call me that, but all, everything, is out me. I jus’ want to lay down, listen to radio, look at picture of Farrakhan, a real man, who don’t fuck his daughter, fuck children.

  Everything feel like it is too big for my mind. Can’t nuffin’ fit when I think ‘bout Daddy.

  “I’m tired.” Why I say that, she don’t care.

  “Fix us some lunch, it’s way pas’ lunch. you done ate?”

  “I had some potato chips.”

  “Thas all?”

  I remember ham ‘n chicken, don’t say nuffin’, ax her, “What you want?” .

  “I don’t know, see what’s in there. If not nuffin’ in there, get stamps out my purse and go to store ‘n get us’es somethin’ to eat.”

  ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPABCDEFGHIJKLMNO

  PQRS. There are 26 letters in our alphabet. Each letter has a sound. A Day at the Beach Shore ABCDEFGHI JKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ.

  That night I dream I am not in me but am awake listening to myself choking, going a huh a huh A HUH A HUH A HUH. I am walking around trying to find where I am, where the sound is coming from. I know I will choke to death I don’t find myself. I walk to my muver’s room but it look different, she look different. I look like little baby almost. She is talkm’ sweet to me like sometimes Daddy talks. I am choking between her legs A HUH A HUH. She is smelling big woman smell.

  She say suck it, lick me Precious. Her hand is like a mountain pushing my head down. I squeeze my eyes shut but choking don’t stop, it get worse. Then I open my eyes and look. I look at little Precious and big Mama and feel hit feeling, feel like killing Mama. But I don’t, instead I call little Precious and say, Come to Mama but I means me. Come to me little Precious. Little Precious look at me, smile, and start to sing: ABCDEFG …

  Wednesday morning Jo Ann back. She not like G.E.D. I guess. Say she need a little brush up before she go to G.E.D. Miz Rain don’t say nuffin’

  till she hear the brush up stuff, then Miz Rain say,

  “Are you in the right class Jo Ann? This is a class to learn reading and writing, this is not a brush up for G.E.D.” Jo Ann look hate at Miz Rain. I like Miz Rain. I see what she doing, I think. Jo Ann tryin’ to act like she ain’ one of us. Miz Rain tryin’

  to git her to ‘cept herself for where she at. She ain’ no G.E.D. girl, leas’ not yet.

  Miz Rain call roll: Jermaine Hicks, Rhonda Johnson, Precious Jones, Consuelo Montenegro, Jo Ann Rogers, Rita Romero. Everybody here.

  Miz Rain ax, “Who wishes to start?” Jo Ann and Jermaine look at her like what she talking. I go to stand up, see Rita Romero done beat me to my feet. She slim, not pretty but she got that light skin that stand for something. Miz Rain l
ook me, say, Gone git up Precious, you can recite together. Rita smile half a smile at me; it’s real, but only half ‘cause she don’t want to show rot teef. I look in her eye, she nod, we go together: ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ.

  Then everybody go except Jo Ann. Then Miz Rain ax us to get out our journal books. Mama don’t give me no money but I took the change from the food stamps when I was shopping to git one. I got Rhonda’s 50 cents too from bottles and cans.

  “This is your journal,” Miz Rain say. “You’re going to write in it everyday.” Jo Ann look disgusted, like yeah right! One minute we doin’ ABCs, next minute we spozed to be writing. Miz Rain give her look like fuck you bitch. I can tell Miz Rain don’t like her but she don’t say nothin’. She jus’

  tell us we gonna write in our journals for fifteen minutes everyday.

  How, I wonder.

  “How,” Rhonda say out loud, “how we gonna write for fifteen minutes if we can’t spell?”

  What we gonna write if we could spell, I wonder.

  “What,” Jermaine throw her two cents in, “what we gonna write?”

  Miz Rain say, “Write what’s on your mind, push yourself to see the letters that represent the words you’re thinking.” She turn to me ax real fast, “Precious what’s on your mind?” I say,

  “What?”’ She say, “What you was thinking just then.” I go to open my mouf. She say, “Don’t say it, write it” I say, “I can’t.” She say, “Don’t say that.” She say, “DO what I say, write what you was dunking.” I do:

  li Mg o mi m

  She tell everyone to not talk and to write for the next fifteen minutes. Everybody is trying something. After time up Miz Rain come to my book ax me to read what I wrote. I reads: “Little Mongo on my mind.”

  Underneaf what I wrote Miz Rain write what I said in pencil.

  li Mg o mi m

  (Little Mongo on my mind)

  Then she write:

  Who is Little Mongo?

  She read me what she wrote, tell me to write my answer to her question in the book. I copy Little Mongo’s name from where Miz Rain had wrote it.

  Litte mony is mi cie

  Miz Rain read, “Little Mongo is my child?” She have question in her voice. I say, “Yes yes.” Miz Rain know Little Mongo is my child ‘cause I wrote it in my journal. I am happy to be writing. I am happy to be in school. Miz Rain say we gonna write everyday, that mean home too. ‘N she gonna write back everyday. Thas great.

  I go home. I’m so lonely there. I never notice before. I’m so busy getting beat, cooking, cleaning, pussy and asshole either hurting or popping. School I a joke: black monster, Big Bertha, Blimp B54 where are you? ‘N the TVs in my head always static on, flipping picture. So much pain, shame—I never feel the loneliness. It such a small thing compare to your daddy climb on you, your muver kick you, slave you, feel you up. But now since I been going to school I feel lonely. Now since I sit in circle I realize all my life, all my life I been outside of circle. Mama give me orders, Daddy porno talk me, school never did learn me.

  It been a month now. I runs in from school nowadays. I don’t pretend I’m not pregnant no more. I let it above my neck, in my head. Not that I didn’t know it before but now it’s like part of me; more than something stuck in me, growing in me, making me bigger. I run past my muver into my room. I wish I had TV in my room. My muver never let me have TV. She say come sit with her.

  I don’t wanna.

  I sit in my room. I know too who I’m pregnant for.

  But I can’t change that. Abortion is a sin. I hate bitches who kill they babies. They should kill them, see how they like it! I talk to baby. Boy be nice. Girl might be retarded, like me? But I not retarded.

  I bet chu one thing, I bet chu my baby can read.

  Bet a mutherfucker that! Betcha he ain’ gonna have no dumb muver.

  I look down my stomach. I’m some big now. I’m only seven months but I know I look nine. I mean I am big. Scale just stop at 200 but I know if it a different scale like hospital scale it just keep going. I’m going to doctor tomorrow. Miz Rain fall out, I mean she fall out! when she finded out I ain’ been to doctor. PRENATAL! PRENATAL! The whole damn class is screamin’ preeeenatal!

  Whas that! You gotta this, they say, and you gotta that— I don’t gotta though. I don’t tell them I had first baby on kitchen floor, Muver kicking me, pains whipping me. Who gonna believe some shit like that?

  I look Farrakhan. I look out window at dirt bricks of other building, no sky like school. I got ‘nother poster on wall now. Miz Rain give me poster like what we got on wall at school. Thas Harriet nex’

  to Farrakhan. She leaded over 300 black people out of slavery. You seen Roots’? I ain’t. Miz Rain say see Roots, find out what it’s all about.

  I put my han’ on my stomach. I sit here, res’

  awhile ‘fore Mama call me to fix dinner or clean up. It’s 26 letters in the alphabet. Each letter got sound. Put sound to letters, mix letters together and get words. You got words. “Baby,” start wif B, b for “baby,” I says in nice soft voice. Soon as he git born I’ma start doing the ABCs. This my baby.

  My muver took Little Mongo but she am’ taking this one. I am comp’tant. I was comp’-tant enough for her husband to fuck. She ain’ come in here and say, Carl Kenwood Jones—thas wrong!

  Git off Precious like that! Can’t you see Precious is a beautiful chile like white chile in magazines or on toilet paper wrappers. Precious is a blue-eye skinny chile whose hair is long braids, long long braids. Git off Precious, fool! It time for Precious to go to the gym like Janet Jackson. It time for Precious hair to be braided. Get off my chile nigger!

  No, she never say that. Miz Rain say value.

  Values determine how we live much as money do. I say Miz Rain stupid there. All I can think she don’t know to have NOTHIN’. Never breathe and wait for check, check; cry when check late.

  Check important. Most important. My mama not getting no check for me, I think she be done killed me a long time ago (well maybe not kill me, but thas how I feel). Miz Rain say feelin’s is important. White woman on the news leave her daddy in desert in a wheelchair when checks run out. He had Alhammer disease. Bitch leave him under a cactus tree wif teddy bear. Don’t tell me

  ‘bout check not important.

  Mama say this new school ain’ shit. Say you can’t learn nuffin’ writing in no book. Gotta git on that computer you want some money. When they gonna teach you how to do the computer. But Mama wrong. I is learning. I’m gonna start going to Family Literacy class on Tuesdays. Important to read to baby after it’s born. Important to have colors hanging from the wall. Listen baby, I puts my hand on my stomach, breathe deep. Listen baby (I writes in my notebook):

  A is fr Afrc

  (for Africa)

  B is for u bae

  (you baby)

  C is cl w bk

  (colored we black)

  D is dog

  E is el lm

  (evil like mama)

  F is Fuck

  Gisjerm btjer j

  (jermaine but Jermaine J)

  ok G is gunn

  Hhm

  (home)

  11 somb

  (somebody)

  JJer

  (jermaine)

  kkl

  (kill)

  llv

  (love)

  M frknka rl m

  (Farrakhan real man)

  Nnfkkk

  (North America America^KKlC)

  Oop

  (open)

  Pph

  (punks)

  Q qee litee

  (Queen Latifah)

  Rsrt

  (respect)

  S stp

  (stop)

  T2tn

  (two ton)

  Vvt

  (vote)

  Wwll

  (weʼll)

  X ma m ml

  (mam man Malcolm)

  Zzk

  (zonked, mean like high)

  Listen baby, Muve
r love you. Muver not dumb.

  Listen baby. ABCDEFGHUKLMNOPQRSTUVW

  XYZ.

  Thas the alphabet. Twenty-six letters in all. Them letters make up words. Them words everything.

  III

  Boy. It’s a boy. Borned at Harlem Hospital January 15, 1988. Abdul Jamal Louis Jones.

  That is my baby’s name. Abdul mean servant of god; Jamal, I forgot; Louis for Farrakhan, of course. At school, new girl Joyce, bring me a book wif African names. I awready had known, Abdul, if it a boy. But I didn’t know what it mean.

  My name mean somethin’ valuable—Precious.

  Claireece, that somebody else’s name. I don’t know where my muver get that shit from.

  Well, I don’t know ‘bout baby, I’m happy ‘bout baby, I’m sad about baby. Social worker come. I talk to her. She ask ‘bout Little Mongo. I tell her Little Mongo wif my grandmother over on St Nicholas Ave. I probably shouldn’t have done that. But I was tired. Tired of game, lying. Miz Rain said she read the truth shall set you free; say she not sure she believe it herself. Well, this truth gonna cause Mama to get kicked off welfare. ‘Cause what she had been telling the

  ‘fare is Mongo was living with her and she was taking care of bofe of us, so she was getting check for two dependent peoples and stuff. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I know I gonna get my own money, but what that if I still in my mama’s house? I need my own place, welfare don’t give you that much. But main thing above everything else I want to go back to school. Thas all I think about—what they doing?

  What they reading? Did I miss the feel trip? I think I did.

  November was my birthday, I don’t tell nobody so don’t nobody know. But I light a candle for myself. I glad Precious Jones was born. I like baby I born. It gets to suckes from my bress.

  First I don’t like that. It hurt feel sore, then I like it.

  He’s a good baby. But he’s not mine. I mean, he is mine, I push him out my pussy, but I didn’t meet a boy ‘n fall in love, sex up ‘n have a baby.

  I think I was rape.

  I think what my fahver do is what Farrakhan said the white man did to the black woman. Oh it was terrible and he dood it in front of the black man; that’s really terrible. Yeah, on the video, Farrakhan say during slavery times the white man just walk out to the slavery Harlem part where the niggers live separate from the mansions where the white people live and he take any black woman he want and if he feel like it he jus’ gone and do the do on top of her even if her man there. This spozed to hurt the black man even more than it hurt the woman getting rape—