Polly Nicole Passonneau, a lawyer who lives in New York City, says she drew on her experience as a former assistant district attorney to write this story.

We rarely publish stories written in dialect because they tend to reinforce racial stereotypes; l don’t believe this is true of “The Confession of Jezrine Beauvais.”

— Ed.

 

Why you askin me did anyting unusual hoppen that day? I told five people already, an’ I know they told you beka I saw you talkin to em. An’ people say I slow. They all detectives. They tell me you a lady pros-e-cu-tor. That some kinda police lawyer lady, they tell me. So I know you know. But I tell you what you wahn tu know. Yeah, someting unusual hoppened. I had a baby. My first born. An’ I killed it. Now you say you gonna charge me wid a crime. But you see, that baby wasna good ting. It was evil. So you see, I had no choice. It was just the next ting tu do.

An’ now I’m answerin all these questions. You, a pale white lady in a black mansuit wahn tu know everting. But I canna tell you everting. You don have noting tu do wid it. I bet you don know noting about it. You lookin at me so hard wid them pale blue eyes. You sittin there. Leanin forward an’ starin like you gonna swallow me up, or scare me into tellin you more. But I’ll tell all of what hoppened anyway. You wahn tu know why. Why what? Why did I do it? Or why did it hoppen in the first place? Why do anyting hoppen, I ask you. Tings just hoppen. Tings just hoppen an’ there isna any reason. Not that I can see. But like I say, I slow an’ maybe I just don see what’s plain tu everone else.

The father? Did he have anyting tu do wid it? Chester? Yeah. He had everting tu do wid it. But I didna know that then. I learned that later. I slow, but I learn. If you really wahn tu know everting, if you wahn tu know the whole story, you got tu sit a while. Maybe then you’ll see why. Anyway, the way I see it, it all started a long time ago. So you gotta lean back an’ wait for small.

The father, Chester, an’ I, we grew up tugether. Back home. In Haiti. We knowed each other since I can ’member. Chester was real dark an’ had a lot of teeth. He the only one treat me like I someting special. He the one who always speak tu me. Not like everone else. I would try tu tell em that I understand when they splain tings, just not always right away. But they always lose their patience, beka I be slow, for true. But I never did have tu tell Chester that. He knowed that from the beginnin. He be splainin everting tu me. Yeah, he be jammerin on an’ on about anyting an’ all tings, even when I don know exactly what he be jammerin on about. I didna ever say so tu him, but I tink sometimes he didna know either. But, anyway, I do just love tu lissen tu him. His voice sound real good, like smooth an’ slow hummin. He did get angry wid me once, though.

He was splainin gravity tu me. He try tu splain everting about school tu me — what’s in the books an’ what the teacher say. He try tu help me wid my homeworks beka he wahned us tu stay tugether, in the same grade, all the way through school. But I just never did understand it all. It’s like my way of tinkin never did match up right wid anyting else.

“You drop an apple an’ it falls tu the center of the Earth, the center of gravity.”

“But then why, when it hits the earth, do it bounce an’ bounce again, always away from the center of the earth?”

“But gravity, it always pulls it back.”

“But it always do bounce away, you see, splain that tu me.”

An’ he say that lesson is in another chapter, slams his book shut, an’ that was the end. I thought for once I be ahead of him in someting, beka I already knowed what was in a later chapter, widout lookin at the book. But when the exam came, just like always, he pass an’ I flunk.

After that test we go an’ fish the rest of the day. He catch noting. I catch a water bass. He tries tu tell me it was too small. But I know he be jealous, for true, beka he didna catch anyting at all, so I don let him throw it away. He walks off like he is mad or someting about my big fat fish. I ’vite him tu dinner, but seem like he rather be good at fishin than at takin tests. So he go off stompin so the dust comes up round him as he walks away, an’ I take my beautiful black four-pound bass home an’ we have a good meal.

One day, when he is in eleventh grade an’ I am still in the sixth, he comes over an’ brings flowers an’ special homemade pecans in hard candy, an’ we talk an’ talk until long after dark. Or rather, he be blabberin on an’ on about what he is gonna do when he leaves school. That’s the first time I get sad tinkin about him. He’d be gone someday, an’ I’d still be at home tryin tu graduate the sixth grade. He say he wahn tu go tu America an’ make lots of money. He say tings are much better in America.

“In America, you get paid as much in a day as we get paid here in a week or a month, so everone is rich.”

“Come on. You’re just teasin me beka you know I’ll believe you.”

“I am not. That’s the way it is, for true.”

“But who will talk tu me? Who will help me in school?”

“Don worry. I never did manage tu help you enough anyway. We still got separated when you didna pass sixth grade.”

“But no one else will go fishin wid me.”

“That’s just beka you are better at fishin than anyone an’ no one wahn tu have tu say you are better at someting than them. Try not tu catch so much fish, an’ you’ll have more company.”

“But. . . .”

“Hush. I don’t like to admit it either. But I like fishing with you enough to live with the admitting. But lissen. When I get rich, you can come visit.”

“An’ will you take me fishin?”

“No, silly. They don do that there.”

Then we sit for a while an’ I say, “You tell me about America before I come so I know what tu spect?”

“Sure.” His finger is in my ear an’ he’s playin wid it, an’ when he say that, he tickles my ear lobe. My arms goosebump an’ I shiver an’ look at him.

He’s all round-eyed lookin at me, in a way I never saw before, an’ then he turn an’ say, “Let me show you someting magic before I go.”

“So go on an’ show me,” I say, an’ he jumps like I shock him a bit or like he’s not ready for such loud talk, bein all quiet an’ big-eyed.

“You have tu promise not tu tell anyone, beka if you tell anyone about this magic, harm will come tu you. Do you promise?”

“Yeah, I promise. Sure. So tell me.”

“It starts like this.”

An’ he takes my hand, mine feelin small an’ cool in his big an’ warm one, an’ we go into my room. He say the first ting we gotta do is get undress.

“But I don wahn you tu look at me naked.”

“But you have tu get undress or I canna show you this magic.”

“Alright, but you gotta promise not tu look at me. An’ I won look at you.”

So I turn round, he gets undress, an’ he gets under the covers of my bed, covers his head, an’ he tells me he’s ready. So I start tu take my dress off, an’ then I feel like someting ticklin the back of my neck. I turn an’ see his black eyes peekin at me from under the covers.

I throw my dress at him an’ we giggle so hard I have tu kneel down. Then I get under the covers wid him like he say. He looks at me all big-eyed still an’ he plays wid my ear some more. He tells me tu close my eyes, so I do, an’ next ting I know he kisses me on my ear. My hair stands on end an’ we both giggle again. We keep doin this for what seem like a long time. We touch each other that way all over. An’ we keep lookin at each other, sometimes smilin, sometimes just lookin. But he keeps his promise after that an’ he never looks at me naked again anyplace cept where I let him. We do some more tings I canna even describe, but after that day, I feel like we have a special secret, for true.

I wonder if other girls have this secret, but I never ask anyone beka I’m afraid of what they might say. I never talk tu other girls anyway beka they always make fun of me, so I wouldna ask them anyhow.

Then someting hoppen that makes my life confused. An’ Chester is gone so he canna splain it tu me. He went tu a place called New York. I wahn Chester tu come back but he don. Next time I suppose tu get my bleedin, it don come. It don come for a long time. My mother always knows when it comes, so she asks me about it, but I’m just happy that 1 don have tu worry about it. But Momma keeps askin’ me questions. She starts talkin tu me about the secret Chester an’ I had, but I guess it wasna a secret after all beka she knowed all about it. She tells me it’s someting all men an’ women do but only when they’re married, an’ they do it tu make children. She tells me that’s what’s hoppenin tu me, that Chester an’ I made a baby. But she tells me it’s wrong beka Chester an’ I didna fall in love an’ get married first. I tell her I love Chester so what we did was good. She just stares at me an’ then takes out her Bible an’ puts her hand on it. She keeps talkin. She tries tu splain tu me why my bleedin stopped. She seem real quiet the whole time, not like Mamma at all. I don understand why she’s so quiet. She keeps splainin, though. But she don’t splain clear. Not like Chester.

Next ting I know, Momma takes me tu a doctor at the hospital. They say again I’m gonna have a baby an’ they wahn tu giv me someting they call a bortion. Tu get rid of the baby. But if this baby is someting Chester an’ I made, I don wahn tu get rid of it. So, me, Mamma, an’ the doctor sit round his office and talk. They wahn me tu understand. An’ they wahn me to sign a paper. We all sit in this cold white room wid shelves full of silver an’ black tings an’ bottles of white pills an’ cotton balls. We’re all suppose tu be talkin, but I keep looking at all those silver tings. They look like scissors an’ knives an’ tings but not like any I ever saw before. Momma starts tu cry, an’ I start tu cry, too, beka it comes out all the sudden while the doctor is talkin an’ I just don wahn all this tu be hoppenin.

“Ladies, ladies, please. Don’t cry.” The doctor seem like he is more confused than me. “It’s not that bad.” He just don know what tu say. “No need to get so upset. Come on.”

He sound like he don mean what he say. He seem upset, too, but he don cry. He puts his arm round me an’ asks me if I wahn the bortion or not.

“Do you understand?” And while he’s askin this, all I can do is shrug my shoulders up an’ down an’ say I don know beka all I know is I don wahn Momma tu cry. She just sits there wid her head throwed down like it was a corndoll an’ she looks like she canna say noting or do noting.

“Momma, please, stop it.” She just shakes her head round in her lap. I cry harder an’ real loud.

“Jezrine, you have tu decide what you are goin tu do. I’ll leave you two alone.”

The doctor talks like he’s all sure but he stumbles when he stands up an’ he really don like this, I can tell. Then Momma stops cryin so hard an’ then she sits up real slow. She looks at me an’ she looks at the doctor. Then she stands up, real slow.

“Jezrine,” she say. An’ then she stops an’ just shakes her head an’ walks out of the room. She don say or do noting else. I look at the doctor beka I still feel confused an’ I don know what tu do. Momma isna actin like herself. She’s actin like a person in a movie. Like you can see her but you canna touch her or feel her. I start crying again, an’ the doctor puts his arm round me again. He talks tu me then.

“Jezrine, right now a baby would be very hard for you to raise. You might not be able to do it all yourself. Your mother would have to help you. That would be bad for her. And bad for you. A baby would be bad for you.”

He puts the paper in front of me an’ I sign it. An’ I walk out of the office. Momma isna there, so I walk home alone. An’ his voice keeps goin through my head. It would be bad. It would be bad. I wish Momma hadna gone.

When I get home Momma is still all quiet. I tell her I signed the paper. She looks at me a minute an’ smiles wid one side of her mouth. But she stays quiet. I don know her anymore.

We go back tu the doctor a few days later. The doctor makes me lie on a table an’ he puts someting way up inside me that makes me feel like he is burnin my insides out. It makes me feel many many times worse than my monthly bleedin, like all the pain from all those times was inside of me all at once. I canna see an’ my heart speeds up an slows down. I scream an’ I kick the doctor. Momma is there. I look at her but she is lookin at me like she don even see me anymore. I feel a needle sting my arm an’ next ting I know, I’m home an’ Momma is talkin tu me.

“Now you lissen tu me.” She talks while she makes tea. Then she holds out her hand an’ shows me a tiny white pill. “You got tu take these ever day from now on. From now on, you take these. The doctor say it’s the best idea.” She say this an’ she pours some water. Then she say under her breath, “I canna believe it. My own blood, my own ignorant blood, an’ you go an’ get yourself into trouble like you know everting.” At least she’s talkin, I tink. But she’s not talkin tu me.

“What’re they for, Momma?”

“They tu ’tect you.”

“ ’Tect me from what?” I ask her, but she don answer. She just gives me my tea an’ the little white pill. It’s so bright agains my palm. I look at it an’ swallow it while she watch. After that, Momma gives me the little pills everday. But she don always watch me take em an’ I don always ’member. Sometimes I put em in my pocket an’ I foget an’ they pile up there. Then I find em an’ I take em all at once. I don tink they do anyting anyway.

These little pills, when I swallow em, I swallow em widout water beka they so small. They real sour an’ sticky but beka they small, I can swallow em. I never feel different after I take em. But Momma got em from the doctor an’ he must know someting. Then, after a little while, Momma say we gonna move. She keeps actin strange since the bortion. So I hope this’ll make her happy. She’s tired of this poor country, she say, so we move tu a place called Brooklyn, New York.

When we get tu Brooklyn, Momma starts workin long hours an’ goin tu school so she can be a word processor. She makes me work, too, beka it costs a lot of money tu live in Brooklyn, an’ her school costs a lot, too. I know that beka seem like she tells me evertime she sees me. But we don see each other much now, an I tink sometimes that’s why she wahned tu move here. Me, I don like it much. Everday is the same ting. I don like this place, this way of life. I am alone all the time.

Ever mornin I get up an’ go tu work on these trains that smell sour, for true, an’ some of the people smell, too. This don seem like what Momma was talkin about when she described the place where we could get rich. I work at Ben’s Fried Chicken, an’ that don seem any better than anyting I could do at home. Cept at home I could just spend my days fishin an’ sellin the fish tu the people in town. An’ I could feed me an’ Momma, too. I start tu wonder where Chester is an’ if he is rich yet an’ I wonder if he rides the trains. Ever mornin people crush up agains me an’ no one ever looks at me. At first, I thought it was beka everone knowed I slow, but after a while, I saw that no one ever looks at anyone. When the doors open up at my stop, everone pushes out. An’ they push me out, wid my shoulders stuck in their shoulders, an they pushin like that until we get out into the light. An’ there it stands. Ben’s Fried Chicken.

The buildin makes me laugh. It looks like a storybook barn, but it isna barn at all. It’s a restaurant. It’s red wid white windows that are perfectly square. We make chicken there in vats. I never saw so much chicken in one place at one time. Seem like we could feed all of Brooklyn any time we wahned. They have three people cookin at once, lowerin wire baskets full of chicken pieces into vats of hot grease big as sinks. When the chicken is done they lift the baskets out an’ let the grease drain back into the vats. My job is tu collect the chicken an’ pack it into these little red an’ white boxes painted tu look like this building. I drop the chicken pieces in wid biscuits, plastic forks, big red an’ white napkins, an’ little containers of ketchup an’ mustard. I don wrap em up or noting. It smells good an’ warm an’ my boxes always look pretty when I finish.

But they never let me eat, like I would dirty the place. That makes me laugh, too. Anyway, after I pack em all up, I slide em across a long table wid bright lights shinin down. They pile up there, box after box, an’ other ladies pick em up then an’ pass em on tu customers.

Then one day I almost die. I see Chester again. He comes in one day tu buy some greasy old chicken, an’ when I see his face past the counter, it’s all I can do tu keep from screamin. He almost jumps over the counter an’ then we just laugh beka it seem so odd. We cry almost. An’ then my boss gets mad, so Chester takes my address, which he canna believe I ’member, an’ he goes.

He starts tu visit again just like he did back home. I never do tell him what hoppened beka I’m not sure how tu splain it right. He talks an’ talks as usual, jammerin an’ yammerin on about stuff I hardly know. I spect he don know either.

Then I like Brooklyn for the first time. Chester always looks me in the face an’ smiles. He holds me an’ talks tu me, just like back home. Not like all those other people who just look at me on the subway an’ at work but don see noting, like their faces are empty. Even my neighbors never look at me or talk wid me. An’ since Momma’s changed, since the bortion, she won talk tu me an’ there’s no one else tu talk tu me plain. Seem like I was gettin cold all the time an’ I was startin tu tink I couldna talk anymore an’ couldna smile or see anyone’s eyes anymore. But Chester changed all that. It’s different from the very first time he comes tu visit.

“So when you gonna cook me up some of that Ben’s Fried Chicken, huh?”

He say that talkin funny an’ we laugh so hard. When my Momma comes home we’re still lyin on the floor, rollin an’ cryin wid the fun of it. But when she comes in, we stop real sudden. Or least Chester stops. Momma gives him cold eyes. An’ he stands up.

“I better be goin.”

An’ next ting I know the door slams an’ there I am all alone under Momma’s stare, still wipin the tears from my eyes.

“I don wahn him here ever.”

An’ then she slams her door, too, an’ that’s the end of that. But I let him come anyway, beka he’s my only friend. Next rime he comes, he puts his finger in my ear again, an’ you know the rest. I wonder if I’ll get another baby.

I start gettin fatter an’ Chester starts lookin at me funny. But he don say anyting. Then he won look at me anymore at all, an’ I start feelin cold again. But my bleedin don stop. I canna figure it out. Finally, Chester stops comin an’ I don ever see him again.

Later, my bleedin stops an’ I wonder about this ting. If this is a baby, an’ babies come from love between a man an’ a woman like my Momma say, how come she made me get rid of the first one, an’ now Chester’s gone beka I got another. If it’s love makes this, has tu be someting good about it, so I decide tu find out.

I don tell Momma what is hoppenin tu me. I keep takin her little white pills, but like I say, I forget a lot of the time. I start tu see I’m not just a little plump. My stomach pokes out over my pants like a sign post. I start wearin my big old pink quilt coat, tu cover my belly. It gets harder an’ harder for me not tu eat that chicken at work, though sometimes that smell just makes me dizzy an’ sick feelin. In the mornins I feel green like from eatin fruit before it’s ready. Once Momma asks me why I wear my pink jacket all the time, an’ I just tell her it’s beka I’m cold all the time. I’m not entirely lyin.

I say the same ting at work. No one notices me gettin fat. Or least no one say anyting. No one tells me tu go on a diet. My legs don get fat, just my belly. My belly gets bigger an’ bigger, an’ my skin feels tight, an’ inside someting starts tu move an’ make me sick. I’m scared beka I wonder if maybe they told me before it’s someting that comes from love beka they didna wahn tu scare me. I wish Chester was still here an’ I wonder even more if this is really a good ting. If it was someting that came from love, why did Chester leave? I’m so confused, I don know what tu do anymore. But seem I’m stuck now.

I prayed. Maybe other people didna really know, an’ that’s why Momma made me get rid of it before. Beka she was scared. But now it’s back again. Like a weed. Like someting you trim an’ pull but just keeps comin back again.

When I get home at night, I climb an’ climb up the stairs tu the top floor where we live, an’ I lie in bed an’ feel this ting move inside of me. An’ it hurts, an’ I’m scared beka I don know what’s suppose tu hoppen. I start feelin like I do before I bleed ever month. Only there’s no blood. No relief. No blood. Noting comes out. Noting. Only pain. Until one night when I canna hardly walk.

I come home an’ climb the stairs an’ I wish that Chester or Momma would come help me. I finally get tu the top floor. I open the door slow so I won wake Momma. I really wahn her tu be wid me. But I get more scared beka I never told her what was hoppenin tu me an’ we never saw each other anymore so she probably hasna guessed. So here I am, scared an’ I canna even walk straight up. I fall tu my bed in the middle of my room. The moonlight falls on the cloth there an’ I can see all its colors. The cloth is from back home. It’s bright an’ makes me feel good just tu look at it. I’m so tired. I hurt so bad I canna even take my clothes off. I lay down an’ the smell of chicken fryin grease comes over me from my clothes an’ makes my stomach turn.

Then it gets tu hurt so bad that I slide off my bed an’ crawl into the bathroom an’ I lay down on the cool tile floor. I don know if I’m gonna throw up or splode or what but I just canna hardly move. The moonlight is comin in. The moon is full. I try tu look at it. It’s bright an’ lookin at it makes me feel better. It reminds me of bein back on my front porch when we’d sit up all night an’ family would visit an’ we’d watch the stars an’ tell stories.

The moon makes the white tiles glow a little but it’s still cool feelin an’ I start tu sweat. I hurt so bad I hold on tight tu the edge of the tub. The tub is cold like the floor an’ its feel seem calm agains my palm. Like wid my hand there I can tink about the cool creepin up my arm an’ take my mind away from the pain. I stare at the moon an’ I tell myself stories over an’ over while the pain an’ the movin inside me goes on an’ on. Lyin there on the cool floor, lookin at the moon, tellin myself stories from home, I feel like I’m not alone all the sudden. I do this for what seem like forever, but sometimes the pain grows inside me an’ makes me feel like hot coals are burnin in me an’ then, after a long time, I tink about the baby.

I tink about that story Aunt Tanzia used tu tell about that baby born by a full moon. Is the baby comin now? I’m scared an’ I hold tighter tu the tub. What do I do now? Is it gonna hurt more than this? I wahn someone there wid me but it’s too late. It’s too late tu tell, tu ask. I breathe in an’ tink about that story, tu calm me down. Aunt Tanzia’s voice is so nice in my mind, I like playin it over tu myself in my memory. As she told that story, the mother lay down one day in the sugar cane field where she was workin an’ wouldna move until the baby came. The baby didna come until the moon was out. It was so bright that the woman who stayed there tu help her didna even need a candle tu see what she was doin. An’ that baby was born inside a bubble of skin. The way Aunt Tanzia told it, it was like a thin balloon over the baby’s head. A caul, she called it. A baby born wid a caul has special powers, she splained, connected tu the Devil: evil. An’ if that baby is an example, it’s true. That baby born by a full moon didna ever cry. It had this look on its face like it knowed everting already. From the beginnin, when they cut the caul off its head, it didna cry. It smiled, not like a baby, but wid the look of a full growed person. An’ that baby gave its momma the hardest time.

She tried tu nurse it, but it wouldna take her milk; it bit her tits. Her man had tu help get it off her. When she played wid it an’ tried tu teach it, it bit her hands. But not like a baby bites, more like a dog bites. That baby was a scary ting. It knowed everting before anyone taught it, an’ it saw tings no one else could. It could say who was about tu drop by, even before that person got the idea tu go visitin. An’ as it got older it got scarier. It didna seem tu be so different from other little boys, just quieter. But is still seem tu be able tu do tings before it should. Some people thought it was real bright. An’ it still never cried.

When this baby got tu be a man he got mean eyes. He played wid women an’ fought wid men. An’ then one day he was pokin’ fun at his momma an’ she didna take it too well so he told her tu quiet down or he would teach her. I guess she didna stop beka they say he raped her that night. An’ they say she was never the same. She always looked empty-like, like she didna know what was goin on or didna wahn tu know, or like she couldna see anyting clear an’ didna wahn tu, either.

I hold tu the bathtub, lookin at the moon, wishin I could tink of a different story. I try tu tink about Chester’s smile. I wonder if I’ll ever see him again an’ I wonder if he left beka he knowed. I’m real scared all alone an’ I just wahn tu scream tu stop myself from tinkin these bad tings. I feel the tears down my face an’ then I canna feel anyting. My stomach starts movin an’ squeezin all the sudden. My stomach squeezes itself like I’m gonna throw up but noting happens. There’s water all over the bathroom floor an’ I tink I must’ve peed on myself but I canna feel anyting an’ I canna smell anyting an’ I just canna stand up or roll over even tu look. I canna tell how long all this even is takin an’ all the sudden my stomach keeps pushin, more an’ more, again an’ again, like it has a mind of its own, like I’m gonna turn inside out. It’s pushin on me now even harder than it has all night an’ faster, too. My heart feels like it’s gonna burst open an’ I wahn tu throw up but I don. An’ I tink more about that story. I canna tell how long this goes on but it seem like forever an’ then I feel it. It’s pushin out of me. I wahn tu scream, I’m so scared, but no sound comes. I just scream tu myself. I feel pain but it’s like I’m watchin myself on television. I’m watchin all this hoppenin tu someone else. I reach my hands down between my legs beka I feel it pushin there, an’ it pushes an’ I push; I feel like someting’s rippin inside me. Everting keeps movin all at once an’ all I can see is white hot pain, like a flashin that don blink. An’ I push an’ push an’ I tink I’m gonna pass out but I still don feel anyting an’ I’m still watchin myself on television. I reach an’ I gasp tu breathe in. Then I feel it, the head.

It’s like a warm rock slicked wid a film of warm damp moss. This is it. This is what Chester an’ I made from lovin each other. Born by the light of the full moon an’ squirmin tu get out of me like I’m some kinda cage an’ it a wild animal. I pull an’ I pull an’ then it’s in my hands an’ I sit up. I don even know what hoppened. There’s a long string comin out of my belly. I’m still scared an’ I still canna feel myself an’ I don even know if I hurt. I just canna tell. I ’member from the story that the woman cut this string an’ tied it up in a knot so I do that an’ when it’s all done I try tu scream again, but this time I’m too tired an’ all that comes out is a croakin sound. I sound like I’m swallowin’ air, but gulpin like I wahn tu drink it. The baby has a film on its head, like a plastic bag, an’ I tink I’m gonna die. I’m lookin here at what me an’ Chester made. But Chester was gone.

I cry an’ grab at it an’ squeeze it tu my chest, real hard, an’ I don know what tu do. We sit there like that for a long while, in the moonlight, me leanin agains the toilet bowl an’ squeezin that ting agains’ my chest an’ gaspin, gaspin for air an’ cryin at the same time. Cryin beka I’m scared, scared of it, scared of Momma, scared of not knowin what tu do next. Then all the sudden I shudder so hard I canna stop an’ I look at this ting an’ it has the film on its face an it looks like someting that just died, not someting that’s just been born. I made this ting wid Chester. Wid love. It should be beautiful. But Chester should have stayed. An’ then all the sudden I knowed this wasna made of love. They had lied tu me. An’ they thought, beka I slow, I’d never catch on. This was an evil ting.

I stand up an’ try tu call Momma but the air jus won come that strong. I stumble tu the kitchen, clutchin this ting tu my chest, still shudderin an’ sobbin at the same time an’ I push myself towards the sink. Again I tink I’m gonna throw up. I feel I have tu get tu the sink. While I push myself over, I push my arms up, push widout tinkin, just needin, an’ then it’s gone; I throw it out the window.

I don even look tu see what hoppened, but I know now I’m free. No more Chester. No more waitin tu see what this is all about. Free of wonderin what love an’ magic is an’ feelin strange beka seem like everone else knows but me. Then all the sudden I don feel so much like I have tu throw up as like my body is gonna open up an’ let all its waters gush out. I feel my way back tu the bathroom. This time I sit on the toilet, an’ noting hoppens. I sit for a long time until I see I’m almost sleep sittin up but I still feel real strange. I stand up an’ turn on the light. The bathroom is a mess. I clean it rather than face Momma in the mornin. I drag the mop out of the kitchen. I drag it cross the hallway. I don feel the strength or the wahn tu have the strength tu lift it up less I really have tu. I mop the floor an’ rinse the mop wid the last energy I have.

Next ting I know it’s 10 o’clock in the mornin an’ I’m still in bed. I have tu go tu work. I hurry beka I was suppose tu be at work an hour ago. I’ve never been late before. The smell of chicken fryin an’ butter an’ biscuits is real strong when I walk in. But it don make me hungry. I’m not tinkin much about anyting, an’ then this man come in an’ starts askin questions. I never saw him before. He ask lots of questions. He looks real nice, wid a wide, white face.

Then he brings me here. Miss pros-e-cu-tor. Did I know the baby was alive? I didna tink about that. I just saw what I saw. Did anyting else hoppen? Isna that enough? I had a baby in my bathroom. I throwed it out the window. I killed it. That was it. That’s it. That’s enough.