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Chris Carr at: andy_dick35@hotmail.com
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Getting To The Good
By "J"
October, 2000 ©
Maya's eyes stared beyond me at the wall. Her parents' wore blank, unreadable looks on their faces. Mrs. Martinez stepped forward. "Mrs. Diggs, I'm so sorry to hear about your husband's illness," she said. "If you have a minute, my husband and I would like to speak to you and Tracy in the hallway."
Butterflies took flight deep in my stomach. What was this all about--and why did we have to go into the hallway to discuss it? I followed mom outside the room. Mrs. Martinez got right to the point.
"Mi hija," she said, gesturing to Maya, "she's in the family way."
"Pregnant?" Those words came from my mouth.
Mr. Martinez gave me a look that could put out a fire.
"And that surprises you, boy? What do you expect when you start thinking with your little head and don't put on no protection?"
"Rob!" Mrs. Martinez shrieked.
Mom's wearied expression took on another load of worry.
"Has Maya been to the doctor?" she asked.
"Yes. I took her in to our family doctor a couple days ago. We got news just yesterday evening."
Mom turned her eyes on me. "Tracy, is it possible that you are the
father of her baby?"
Possible, yes. Mr. Martinez was right about one thing. I had let my little head lead me the night of the Homecoming Dance when Maya came onto me in the car. I didn't put up much of a fight. "How far along are you?" I asked Maya.
She rolled her eyes and looked down the hallway as if I wasn't there.
"Dr. Daniels says she's about three months," Mrs. Martinez said.
"You won't have to worry about it because I ain't having it anyway," Maya added.
"You are having this baby," her mother snapped. She fingered the gold cross necklace that hung from her shoulders. "Don't even talk that way."
Maya pouted. "Daddy says I can't have no baby right now," she said.
"You're damn sure not ready to handle the responsibility of a kid at your age, mi hija," Mr.Martinez said.
"She's old enough to make the baby, she's old enough to HAVE the baby." Mrs. Martinez crossed her hands over her chest.
"She didn't make this baby alone." Mr. Martinez glared at me. "Seems to me the only irresponsible person is this boy. Mrs. Diggs, didn't you and your husband teach your son about being responsible when it comes to sex?"
Mom's chest puffed up with anger. "What are you trying to say?" she asked warily
"Look, he should've had protection and he should've used it. If he had, maybe my daughter wouldn't be stuck in this situation now."
My memory of the night in question wasn't as clear anymore, but it seemed like I'd asked about protection and Maya had said we didn't need it. Still, I should have had the foresight to know better. I couldn't believe the possibility of pregnancy hadn't crossed my mind.
"Mr. Martinez, I am not a condom distributor. I am a mother. And until very recently, I can assure you that my son was not sexually active. It seems to me that this is a matter of irresponsibility on both their parts. The question now is, what do we do?"
Mr. Martinez and his wife exchanged glances that were more like glares. "Mrs. Diggs, I do not agree with abortion. It goes against everything I have been taught."
Mr. Martinez huffed. "We have not decided," he said finally.
"Well, when you do, please let me know." She looked at me with tears in her eyes. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a husband to tend to."
"Of course," Mrs. Martinez said.
With that, the Martinez family departed and Mom shuffled back into Dad's hospital room. Her eyes had said it all. She was disgusted with me. Again. First, my irresponsible ways had put my dad, her husband, in the ICU of the hospital, fighting for his life. Now this.
I couldn't face her right then. Instead of going back into the room, I left the hospital, trying to wrap my thoughts around the fact that Maya was carrying my baby, that I...would be a father.
Thanksgiving came and went with little change or news. Dad came home the day after Thanksgiving, but I remained on Cyrus' couch. I didn't hear anything from Maya or her parents until the beginning of December.
Mom called to tell me that Maya and her parents had asked us to meet them at their place. That meant that the decision had been made. Without my input. Part of me hoped that Maya got her way and would have the abortion. Realistically, neither of us could take on the responsibility of a baby, at least not now. I was in the middle of applying to college, not to mention keeping on top of my grades. But another part of me couldn't imagine standing by and letting Maya and her parents destroy my seed. I mean, what if this kid was meant to be a famous doctor or a lawyer or something?
I went to the Martinez' full of dread. Either way the thing turned out, someone was guaranteed to lose.
The biggest surprise awaiting me at the Martinez' was Dad. He was there with Mom, and he looked tired, still. Deep circles ringed his eyes and his cheeks sagged. He looked as if he needed a few more days in the hospital. He and I made eye contact briefly. I sat in the chair opposite Maya.
"Thank you all for coming," Mrs. Martinez said. "These past few weeks have been a difficult time for us all. But we have made a decision."
Maya shifted. Her eyes met mine for a second. She seemed sad and confused.
"This was not an easy decision to make," Mr. Martinez added.
Mom nodded. "I understand that."
Mrs. Martinez exhaled. "Maya will have the baby."
No one said a word. I don't think I drew a breath for a whole minute.
"Have you considered all your options?" Mom asked.
Mrs. Martinez nodded. "Yes, of course. We feel that this in everyone's best interest."
How did she figure that when she hadn't even asked my opinion on the matter?
"Will she stay in school?" Mom asked.
"Of course," Mrs. Martinez replied.
"We've talked with the guidance counselor at the high school and she says Maya can stay in day classes until the new semester. Then she will start night classes. She will be graduating in June with her class."
"When is she due?" Mom asked.
"Late May," Mrs. Martinez said.
Silence. All I could think was how did I fit into this situation now that things had been decided. Mrs. Martinez approached me with a pleading look. "Tracy, no one is forcing you to do anything you don't want to do. You're young, and I realize that you've probably made plans for your future that don't include having a child right now. But Maya IS having this baby. YOUR baby."
Realizing where this talk was headed was like being knocked across the highway by a mack truck. I hadn't really considered that I would be put in this position. I hadn't thought that far ahead.
Mr. Martinez joined his wife near the chair where I was sitting. "You've already made one mistake. Don't make two."
I shook my head. My heart did not belong to Maya, and I could not make a commitment to someone I did not love. "There's no way! I can't--"
The next voice I heard was Dad's. The menace was no longer in his voice. He sounded broken. "I need to speak to my boy alone."
"Rick, no! That's not a good--"
"Please, Mare. There's some things we gotta say."
Mom and I exchanged nervous, confused stares. It was obvious neither of us knew what Dad was talking about. And, judging from the way Mom's lip trembled, we were both a little afraid of Dad and I being alone together.
Finally, Mrs. Martinez offered to make Mom a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Reluctantly, she followed the Martinez family out of the living room, looking over her shoulder the whole time.
"Glad to see you're okay," I said. He held up his hand in a stop signal.
"You know I can't stand bullshit smalltalk, boy. Fact is, that girl is having your baby. You got a responsibility," he said. "You know the right thing to do."
"I don't love her," was my reply.
Dad gave me a look that was equal parts disgust and anger. "You don't know what love is, boy. What you got on your mind ain't no love." His voice was low and cracking. "You gotta chance, now. You can turn away from that..." His voice trailed off. "You can do the RIGHT thing for once, son.
" The RIGHT thing? Why did the right thing feel so damned wrong? "Dad, please don't ask me--"
Dad leaned forward, reaching for my hand. I'm sure I flinched, although I don't remember doing so. It was the first time in 17 years that my Dad had ever held my hand. "I...I'm begging you...Tracy, please."
I couldn't believe my ears...or my eyes. Tears were falling across Dad's face. Dad? Crying? Dad? Begging? I was shocked into silence.
"I know that I haven't always...sometimes haven't...been there for you." He wiped away his tears. "Damn, I don't do this shit."
After he composed himself, he reached for my hand again. "We can make things right, boy. You and me, we can start over. You're my boy. My baby boy. And I want to be your father. We can still be a family. And you and that gal can make a family of your own."
My heart sank. Why did us 'being a family' be based upon me making a family with Maya? Dad could not accept me as his son the way I was. I had to be something else for us to 'be family.' I had to be a pretend Tracy, and a very unhappy one at that.
Mom bustled into the living room. "Everything okay?" she asked.
Dad pulled his hand away. "Yes."
The Martinez' followed Mom out of the kitchen. All eyes turned on me. The ball was in my court.
I could not say the words, so I wrote them down on paper and gave them to Cyrus to give to Akil. He deserved to know; I just couldn't bring myself to tell him that come December 26, I was marrying Maya Martinez.
It was not an easy decision to make. And, I didn't feel comfortable in the decision that I made. But weighing everything, I came to see that I had an obligation to this baby...and through the baby, I had an obligation to Maya. I did not love her. I did not even care for her. But she was pregnant with my seed. I wanted to do right by her since I hadn't done right by her before.
I expected Cyrus, Omar and Marv to disapprove, but I did not expect Omar and Marv to stop speaking to me. They called me weak, traitorous. Omar: "You're putting your life in their hands." Marv: "You're letting them script your life." Their words made sense, because I did feel as if by marrying Maya, I was following a script that someone else had written to suit their purpose, but not mine.
Maya and I hadn't said two words to each other about anything--not the baby, not the wedding. We had been pushed to the side and our parents had taken the reigns, making all the arrangements for everything. The wedding was set to take place Dec. 26, a Saturday, after which Maya and I would take up residence in our own one-bedroom apartment on the South side of the city, not very far from where Akil's Aunt Dora lived. Dad had found the apartment and paid the first and last month's rent. The Martinez' put up the deposit.
In my letter to Akil, I asked him to come to the wedding, but I knew that he wouldn't. How I hated hurting him. But what else could I do? I couldn't just walk away from Maya and leave her and her parents to pick up the slack raising my kid.
Christmas brought my brothers R.J., Eric and Duane back home. Once they learned of the turn of events, Dad quickly recruited them as my groomsmen, while volunteering himself as best man. He was in a jovial mood since I had decided to do the "right" thing by Maya, and his appearance and health were both picking up, seeming because of it. R.J. and Eric offered to throw me a bachelor party, but I nixed that idea right away.
The night before the wedding, I was so wide-eyed, I had to take cough and cold medicine to make myself sleep. Even that didn't work. I went downstairs to the kitchen to get a second dose of the medicine and found my brother Eric sitting on the couch watching television.
"Can't sleep, huh?" he asked.
I shook my head and plopped down in Dad's chair.
He sat up, smiling. Eric was devastatingly fine, definitely the Diggs brother with the looks. Now that he had taken to wearing wire-rimmed spectacles, he was looking more and more like the character Taye Diggs portrayed in the movie "The Best Man."
"I still can't believe that you...are going to be a daddy and a husband before me," he said. "I remember when you were spitting up baby milk."
At 24, Eric was 7 years my senior. He was in his second year of law school at Georgetown, and a confirmed bachelor. Of the five of us, Eric was always the most outgoing and the most popular. No one had yet to top his records at Vanderbilt High--either on the basketball court or in the bedroom. "Eric, it ain't fair. How is it that you get through high school without knocking somebody up, and after one time, I'm getting ready to be a daddy?"
He chuckled. "My best friend Trojan came through every time," he replied. "Something tells me you're not exactly looking forward to walking down that aisle."
I sighed, wanting to share my feelings with Eric, but realizing that I couldn't. Eric had been my first idol. He had that thing, undescrible, but easily recognizable. That thing that made brothers back away from a fight...that thing that made sisters fight each other trying to get next to him. I can still remember standing on top of the toilet seat, watching him shave in the mirror, and pretending that I, too, had some facial hair that needed trimming. I loved the smell of his aftershave...the way his skin felt all prickly once he finished. For a while, I wanted to BE him. But he was from that school where gay brothers weren't just freaks, they were freaks that deserved a good ass whipping. He would not understand my situation.
"It's cool, bro. I'm just nervous."
"Understandable," Eric said. "You're still in high school, and you're taking on responsibilities that guys my age haven't yet dealt with. I gotta give it to you, little bro. It takes a lot of heart. It takes a lot of courage to do the right thing, especially at your age."
Instead of replying, I got my medicine and went up to the bed to get in a few hours sleep. Today was my wedding day, after all. It just wouldn't look good if the groom nodded off during the ceremony.
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