On the Come Up (13 page)

She didn’t sing or nothing, she just was herself.

In April, Dean called. He said, I want to come out and meet Blessed.

She said, You wanna do what?

She thought maybe he thick—no one like Dean ever come out to Far Rockaway.

She said, Why you gotta meet my mother.

You’re a minor, AnnMarie. You’re about to have a baby. I have to meet your mother to see if we can do this.

So she cleaned the apartment, top to bottom. Shoved everything out the way, into the closet, into Blessed’s room. Swept the floor, cleaned the bathroom, washed dishes, cleared off the sofa, making things nice. Baby kicking her in the rib, high up there, it was hard to breathe.

Blessed thought AnnMarie was crazy. What the hell you doing? She said. You gonna hurt yourself. Her mother only partways understanding what was going on. In one ear, out the other. In Blessed’s mind it was like, Who coming out here? The director? Director of what.

But she got her mother changed outta her house dress, squeezed her into the purple dress she used to wear to church, combed out her wig, made her put it on.

Dean took the A train all the way out, all the way the fuck out to Mott Avenue. She knew how long it took to get here from Manhattan. It was the end of the line. AnnMarie stood at the station
entrance, waiting. People glancing at her sideways, looking at her swollen belly, but she didn’t care. When he came up the steps in one piece she smiled, satisfied, and they walked back to Gateway along Mott Avenue, AnnMarie pointing out the Thriftway, Tina’s hair salon, the 101st Precinct and the Crown Fried Chicken on the corner.

She brought him upstairs, introduced him to Blessed who told him to go on, sit down. AnnMarie, bring him a Coke. You want a Coke, Mr. Dean? AnnMarie moving from the fridge to the sofa as Blessed got settled at one end, waiting for Dean to start talking. But he pulled out a box of cookies and a bag of baby oranges so she had to deal with the TV trays and setting out little plates and finding napkins and when he finally got to it, explaining the movie and AnnMarie’s role, she held her breath, thinking, Don’t switch up, don’t switch up, please don’t switch up and change your mind. She could hardly concentrate, picturing her life through his eyes—the mad small apartment, even with the kitchen window open the room felt stifling, her mother sitting there in that too-tight dress, lipstick on, one a her eyeballs not working, staring sideways. Do he even know where to look when he look at her face?

But then she heard him say, The shoot days are long and there are rehearsals, lots of rehearsals, Mrs. Walker. I need to know if we can do this with AnnMarie. She’s got to show up on time, every day. Can I count on you? Can I count on your support? Blessed glanced at AnnMarie, then kinda leaned forward, looking at him outta her good eye. She said, I’m not going nowhere. I’m proud of my daughter. I’ma help her any way I can.

Dang, AnnMarie thought.

First time she heard that come out her mouth.

She proud a me.

She was eight month pregnant when Dean called rehearsal. Blessed start scraping the bottom of her purse for change, cashing in coupons for food, giving AnnMarie any extra she had. Subway rides out to Utica Avenue and back, money for lunch. She was big as a house. Wide load, peeps. Watch out. Baby poking around in there, letting AnnMarie know she was alive and strong. They met up in the basement of a church, across the street from Albany Houses in Crown Heights. It was AnnMarie. It was Sonia and Melody—those girls playing the parts of her best friends. Both of them marveling, reaching out to touch her belly. Oooh, when you due, what you gonna name her, you got a crib yet? Sonia was nineteen and going to acting school in Manhattan. A true professional. Melody was a Puerto Rican girl from the Bronx. A intellectual type, with long kinky hair and fair skin, always asking questions. They’d spend hours together with Dean. Memorizing lines, practicing the scenes.

Dean told them it wasn’t going to be one a those big Hollywood movies you see with all the glitz and glamour and movie stars. It’s an art film, he called it. Low budget. Everybody pitching in to make it work. There’s gonna be a marching band and you girls are gonna learn an instrument or be on flags ’cause the band’s a part of the movie too. The Crown Heights Steppers. AnnMarie and
the other girls watched them practice one day. Those kids spinning the flags way up high in the air, keeping the beat. Turning, spinning. Stepping.

Dean would tell them, This is a story about friendship, it’s about change. Your high school closes and you have the summer to figure out what you’re gonna do next. Melody’s character finds out she pregnant and decides not to go back to school. Word, AnnMarie thought, I can relate to that.

Even though Dean was the director, he act more like a coach. Giving them pep talks, cheering them on if they mess up. Talking about improvise. Stay loose, Dean would say. Don’t worry so much about the lines on the page. You got your own story, use it. Put it back behind the words and let it flow. AnnMarie was in a daze of wide-open happiness.

She’d kept it from Darius. That first audition, the callbacks. Even Dean coming out to meet her mother. Ever since they’d taken his equipment, he’d been moody. Drinking Hennessy before noon, angry all the time. Not even the weed he smoke take the edge off. So she waited until the movie was a sure thing.

You doing what, he said.

She could feel the suspicion, then the jealousy pouring out his eyes and her heart just shrunk up. ’Cause she’d learned by now how he saw the world, how he thought there wasn’t room enough for everybody on the come up.

She said, I’ma talk to the director. Maybe he can use some a your beats.

He looked at her sideways. What you mean?

She said, Every movie got music, right? Why not yours? Putting
her arms around him then, looking up into his eyes, her belly bumping against him.

You got mad talent, Darius. Give me one a your CDs. I show it to him, she said. Because she loved him and wanted him to be happy.

He didn’t say nothing for a minute but she could see the gears turning.

What you got to lose, she asked.

Yeah, yeah … he said. You could ask him.

She had to lay on her side now when she slept. Baby inside need to breathe, the doctor told her. She knew it was a girl baby ’cause she’d asked. She could feel the kicks and burps, the thrum of the baby heartbeat like the gallop of horses. Baby heart got four valves, doctor at the clinic told her, rolling jelly juice around her tummy, the sonogram wand pressed against her skin. A real live breathing thing.

She started making a list of baby names. Ashlee, Brianna, Makayla, Chasity, Dawn, Skye, Star. She’d show them to Darius. What you think, baby, she’d ask. If it a boy, I’d name him Blaze, he said. Oh, I like that. Blaze. She hadn’t told him the baby was a girl. Could you name a girl Blaze, she thought. Blazing Star. Star Blazing.

Then the money start to appear. Out of nowhere. Cash money sitting out in piles in the studio room. AnnMarie’d walk in, her eyes going wide. She’d say, What you doing Darius. Where’d you get all that money. Sessions, baby. Recording sessions. He told her he was producing. Working out of Z-Sounds since his own studio wasn’t more than a room with four walls. Maybe it was true. She wanted to think it was true. But later she heard through the grapevine—Dennis telling Nadette and Nadette telling Niki and
Niki finally telling her—Darius on a robbing spree. Sticking up strangers on the street. Going into any store ain’t got plexiglass for protection.

Speakers appeared. Then a console. Microphones. All those piles of money turned into music gold.

She wanted to scream,
What you doing? We got a baby on the way and you robbing people? You gonna get caught
,
stupid
.

But he was happier. Hugging her more. Holding her at night. Drumming beats with his fingertips on her leg, a rhythm playing her to sleep. She’d murmur, You gonna get us a crib, baby? He’d say, You know it.

And then it went down, three days before her due date. A beautiful day. Sunny, no rain clouds, June 24. All day she’d been feeling fine, couple little cramp-type feelings here and there but nothing to get excited about. She took a bath in the afternoon, woke up still in the water, her body buoyant, realizing she’d dozed off. Watched TV for a while, called Darius, waited for him to come by, but she was restless, moving around the house ’cause the crampy feeling start to grow, like pressure building. Dean called. He asked how she feeling. She said, I’m fine, Dean. Everything good. Sonia called, asked if she had the baby yet. She said, No, Sonia, I still got three days. Then at nine o’clock that evening, she got the urge to eat Chinese. Darius was still out somewhere so she called up Niki and they went over to Lucky’s for some Sweet and Spicy Chicken.

Niki had got her hair cornrowed, the cinnamon curls plaited in neat parallel rows, crown to nape. She kept rubbing with the heel of her hand. What’s the matter, AnnMarie asked. Sunshine put ’em in too tight? Yeah, yeah … they’s killing me. I think I have to take ’em out.

I do it for you, AnnMarie said. Niki got up to get their food,
brought it back on a plastic tray. She start to eat. I decided to go for my GED, Niki said.

Yeah? That’s cool. AnnMarie nodded, trying to be a good friend, to pay attention but she felt light-headed. She picked up her fork and start to eat. I can do a summer program, then I’ma get a job in a bank, Niki was saying, her voice sounding far away. AnnMarie felt herself expand, a feeling like she gonna burst so she put the fork down and leaned back, spice flavor strange on her tongue. She didn’t feel right. Hot, like a oven had turned on inside her body.

Niki said, There go Darius. AnnMarie looked up and saw him passing on the street, Jason and Raymel trailing after him, moving up the block at a clip. In a second they gone. She got up, waddled to the door, pulled it open and stepped outside.

What they doing.

Darius! she called. But he didn’t turn. She saw him reach up, pull his ball cap low over his eyes and enter the A-rab’s store, Raymel a shadow behind him. Jason leaning up against the wall, his eye on the street. Muthafucka. He robbing that dude right now. All of a sudden she felt the pain, like a rope wrapping tight around her belly. She reached for the wall and leaned. Here we go, she thought. A contraction for sure. Gripping her like a vise and squeezing. Like pain she ain’t never felt before. Breathe, she told herself. Lamaze teacher said, Breathe.

Then she heard Niki’s voice saying, What up AnnMarie, you okay? She knew she supposed to count, look at a clock, something, time the contraction when the pain stop. That’s what Lamaze had said. You got a watch, she asked. But before the words out her mouth another belt cinched tight and made her double over. She leaned both hands on the wall and could feel herself rocking, a moan coming out her mouth, then she was in the bathroom. All of a sudden she was sitting on the toilet, Niki holding her hand, saying, Maybe we should go to the hospital. She moaned, leaning
forward, feeling the pressure build, a feeling like she got to push. Then she saw the blood and a wave of fear passed through her. Bleeding, why she bleeding. Nobody said nothing about blood. She waddled out the bathroom, Niki next to her, saying, Hold up, AnnMarie, pull up your pants but she was heading for the door and to the street beyond, she got to get to Darius. Up the block. Get Darius and go to hospital.

How she made it to St. John’s six blocks away she didn’t know. Everything had gone fuzzy. There was Niki’s shoulder. Niki’s arms holding her when she froze up, bracing herself against each tightening, the pressure like a boulder pushing down. AnnMarie moaning, She’s coming … This baby coming out.

Next thing she knew she was standing in the lobby of the emergency room, water all over the floor, soaking through her Reeboks. Then she was in a room, up on a bed, hospital gown on one minute, undone the next, pooling there around her wrists. She was on her hands and knees, butt naked and sweating, her whole body wet with sweat but she didn’t care—strangers all around, who was these people, someone strapping a belt around her waist, beeping sounds and the tight feeling coming fast and hard now. Pain like nothing else and she was breathing, breathing, low and deep, trying to get on top of the pain. She rode it. Her body swaying on its own, her head down between her shoulders until her elbows gave out and she was collapsing, no longer on all fours but on her back where the bed was inclined and she saw Blessed then, appearing outta nowhere. Ma, she said. Ma … and Blessed took AnnMarie’s hand and said, Push AnnMarie push. And she bore down with everything she had, squinting past her knees, some doctor man between her legs, where the fuck did
he
come from? Saying, Okay AnnMarie, one more good one, one more like that …

Then with a strange slurping sound the baby was outside instead of in and she was crying out loud and the doctor was holding Star Blazing or Blazing Star, she didn’t know which to call her,
a nurse wiping off the mucus and fluid and traces of blood and AnnMarie could see her beautiful brown body through the blur of motion. AnnMarie was shaking, her whole body trembling from the aftershock but the nurse laid the newborn on her bare breast, skin to skin, and the doctor was poking around between her legs, her mother crying,
Praise be. Praise be
. But all she knew right then was the brand-new living thing pressed against her, flesh and bones and a beating heart.

Daruis, he missed the birth part, came rolling up first thing the next morning. Flowers in hand. Yellow roses. He brought a teddy bear and balloons and a little baby outfit in one of those bassinet-type things. White ribbons tied all around. It was pretty. He came into the room, passing the girl in the hospital bed next to hers, pulled the curtain closed around them. She was mad tired. Sore all over, shoulders, back, legs, even her face hurt from squeezing that baby out, but when Darius leaned over the bed and kissed her she reached for him. She didn’t care that he’d been out robbing the night before. To see all the little things he’d brought for Star, to watch that dimple appear as she put their baby into his arms. All that hard shit he wore on his face all the time, all that hard shit just fell away. It fell away.