No Arms to Hold Me

By Elissa Gabrielle and Zach Tate

Zondra Johnson should have been proud of herself having graduated high school at the age of 16 and gone to college directly from her single mother’s home. However, she took with her the stigma of the black hue of her skin and every insecurity growing up without a father and a strict mother in Authors Zach Tate and Elissa Gabrielle’s “No Arms to Hold Me.” Learning life on the fly, yet armed with words of wisdom from her mother and grandmother, Zee found herself involved with life events that some would say could have been avoided, should have been; but that line about her eyes? Well, let’s say it always seemed to be the opener to a new journey in Zee’s life. In a short span of time, Zondra found herself trying to be a woman, a sister, a mother, a wife, and so many things in between. But for every woman who has had to struggle with “self” and what that means to them, from the color of their skin, the size of their bodies, where they come from, or if their fathers have been in their lives, you will find yourself relating to, rooting for, and finding hope through Zondra’s journey. As she comes into who she is in her quest for arms to hold her, maybe you will, too.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Imprint Mass Media, LLC.
• Release date: Feb 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386787655

Book preview

Freddie

I wasn’t always lonely. I didn’t always weigh two hundred pounds or have that extra tummy that these heathen men call ‘a kangaroo pouch.’ But after falling in love too many times for my own good, bearing two children, and going through a nasty divorce, things kinda caught up to me. Now that I’m knocking on forty’s door, gravity and being a single mother just took my body every which-a-way. People tell me this is the cross a woman has to bear. We have to be superwoman, wife, psychologist, lover, mother, attorney, conflict negotiator and more, and oh, maintain the body of a twenty-something year old in the process.

I didn’t always have these long dreads or was looked at like I’m crazy because I am black.  You see, I am black. Black like three o’clock in the morning. Black like my mother’s mother’s mother from the Motherland, black. My skin is like the bottom of a frying pan. So black I look purple. Not the black that America has somehow learned tolerate, even if only on the smallest of scales and on the tiniest of temporary platforms. Not that tolerable black. The black that is bad, black. Black that is way too dark to be anything other than wrong, black. Growing up in the Bronx, I heard every black joke there was. But eventually these hazel eyes that I got from the daddy I never knew, with my black skin and my wavy hair, turned me into an exotic freak show.

My skin has been a gift and a curse. Brothers’ lust to taste my flavor while too many white men wanted to taste my nectar - I am what many men desire, but mainly behind closed doors, but ZZ had to slow down. Oh that’s what they call me, ZZ, short for Zondra Zaire. I was born Zondra Johnson, but I changed my name in college, and I’ll tell you about that later.

Sometimes I sit around and just wonder.  Then Hurricane Katrina and these high ass gas prices got me to asking why the hell am I so lonely? Why don’t I have some strong, but tender arms to hold me? Then I thought of Mama’s words on how to keep a man, though she never seems to do it. Then I look at my children and think of their daddies, and remember when I wasn’t lonely. But the icing on the cake is when I go to work. The Administration of Child Services would love for me to break up all the poor women and children on my caseload. The children’s mothers remind me that some man left them lonely, too. I’ve asked myself where have all the arms gone, and the only answer I got was when my little brother Zion said, ZZ, you need to evaluate where your happiness began, and how the hell it ended. So that’s what I’m gonna do.

Γ

Hey gorgeous, Freddie said as I sat on my stoop eating salty Bon Ton potato chips with my girlfriend, Maxine.

He was the first boy to call me gorgeous. I was only fifteen and he was the landlord’s son. Up until that day I thought I was too skinny, and my ass too flat. The 32C-cups that I dragged around were the only thing that interested boys. The C-cups were the largest in the neighborhood for a girl my age, so they brought me a lot of attention. But Freddie’s brown eyes were looking into my own when he spoke to me.

I sat up and acted like the lady Mama beat into me. I closed my scrawny legs, wiped my thick greasy lips, and with all my courage asked sarcastically, What do you want, Freddie?

His caramel cheeks lifted as he smiled. He leaned forward on his knee then locked eyes with me. I want to take you out Zondra, but you always fronting.

I studied his short afro and his two, giant, gold rope chains. His Hawaiian shirt and short set clung to his tall frame, and on his perfect sized feet were a pair of Nike Cortez. When his gold Bulova watch shined, I checked to see what Maxine was doing.

She was in awe so I cleared my throat to get his attention. Where do you want to take me and why? I asked, not knowing what I was going to say next.

Freddie stood with both hands on his hips, like Goldie from The Mack. Anywhere you want, he said. You want to go to the movies? We can go down to the Deuce. You want to eat? We can go to Tads Steak house, or if you want to go to the moon, Freddie reached into his pants and pulled out a big knot of bills, I’ll buy you a rocket ship.

Freddie gave me goose bumps. I got excited when he spoke. Chills ran a marathon through my body whenever I saw him and his mouth got to working. His quick lines and his fat pockets impressed me. I never had a boyfriend before, so what was I supposed to do? The boy was fine, smart, and came from a good family.

Keep your legs closed, your head high, and don’t give none of these poverty stricken boys the time of day, was what Mama always told me. But this was the landlord’s son. The same landlord that owned the two family private house and the first floor apartment that Mama rented. With the high allowance his daddy and granddaddy gave him, Freddie didn’t fit the poverty stricken boys Mama warned me about. Nor was my legs open or my hazel eyes looking at the ground.

Okay. I want to go to the movies, but I’m not going to Forty-second Street. Then we can get something to eat in a nice restaurant.

I was trying to impress Maxine and intimidate Freddie into saying ‘no.’ There was no way Mama was going to let me go out with a boy. I was only fifteen. Mama was not letting me go anywhere but to the front stoop, or the hospital, if I disobeyed her. But since Mama worked nights as a nurse, and she was in her bed sleeping, I decided to take a trip on the wild side, knowing I was never going out with Freddie. After all, Mama kept me so locked up, I never even kissed a boy before.

Bet! he called my bluff. Friday night. I’ll pick you up at eight and have you back before twelve. Freddie walked off ditty bopping.

Ooooh. Girl, you done did it, Maxine squealed after Freddie walked away. "Every girl on this block wants to go out with Freddie and now he picked you. What you going to tell your mother?"

She really wanted an answer I didn’t have.

You think I would lie to my best friend? You damn right. I’m grown, Maxine. I rolled my eyes for emphasis. My head danced from side to side. "My mother doesn’t have to know everywhere I’m going." I had subconsciously put on my big girl panties and I was grown, even if just for a moment. I had courage and I spoke to Maxine as if I had finally let loose on Mama and told her what she didn’t want to hear. But I knew if Mama heard those words, the front door would have flown open, and I would have run to the first Catholic church and begged to become a nun.

So then let’s go pick out your outfit. You only got three days to get ready, Maxine beckoned. I dreaded the thought of even coming close to disappointing my mother, but I couldn’t back out now.

Maxine picked out a pair of old Liz Claiborne jeans, a pink Polo shirt, with a pair of flat shoes that I bought from Rainbow’s department store.

On Thursday, I got a major surprise. Freddie stopped by in the morning with a black sweatshirt that read, Freddie’s in gold glitter.

What’s this for? I whispered, careful not to disturb my sleeping mother.

He pulled me into the vestibule and closed the front door. He reached inside the bag and pulled out an identical shirt that read, Zondra’s, on it.

It’s so we can match and all the fellas will know that the fly girl wearing this shirt is with me, and all the other girls know I’m with you.

I was overwhelmed, happy, nervous, surprised and overjoyed at the same damn time. He was serious. He was dope like shell toe Addidas and Pumas with the fat laces. Fly, like Big Daddy Kane. He was sick lyrics over fresh beats. All the girls who saw Freddie’s clothes and jewelry wanted to be on his arm, but he chose me, Zondra Johnson. I had become the shit by way of his last statement. He justified me in ways I hadn’t been, ever.

But-but-I’m not your girlfriend, I said hesitantly.

He stood next to his apartment door smiling. Then he slipped the key into the lock. Not yet you not, but you will be, he said and left me alone in the vestibule.

Talk about a sister’s heart and mind being stuck on Freddie Washington for the next twenty-four hours. He remained on my brain constantly, and thoughts of him went into overdrive. I still didn’t know how to tell him that I wasn’t going. I was scared to death to ask my mother. Going out with my girlfriends in the daytime was a hassle for my mother. Asking her to go out with a teenage boy would, at the least, get me knocked into a coma.

On Friday night I decided to do what any good Christian daughter whose mother worked nights would do—I didn’t tell my mother a damn thing. I put on my nightclothes before she left at 7:00 p.m. and opened my mouth as wide as I could for the biggest yawn while I had curlers in my hair. Good night, Ma. Be careful on your way home tonight, I said like I did every night and I walked her to the front door.

You lock up now, and I’ll check in on you when I come in later, Mama said like she had been saying since I started high school three years ago and was left alone with my brother.

I locked the door behind my mother and thanked God Zion was spending the last weeks of summer with his father. Zion was lucky. He’s light skinned and knew his father, who was still on good terms with Mama. Every now and then his father would give Mama what my Big Mama Zora called, a tune up in the bedroom so her wheels would stay balanced.

As for my daddy, it was taboo to even ask about him. I knew his name was Thomas Johnson, and Mama said he gave me these hazel eyes. After he swept Mama off her feet and married her two months later, she got pregnant. Three months after that, he told Mama he was going down south to visit family and never came back. Poor Mama never met his family, never knew much about him, and was convinced that she was the hottest thing in New Orleans until he brought her to New York and left her stranded with a baby in the oven. To this day I never even saw a picture of the man.

A man like that is no man at all, and ain’t worth you knowing or ever thinking about. Poverty stricken men like him will only crush your dreams and run away, Mama would yell whenever I asked about my daddy. I think deep inside, Mama kept me on lock down because she didn’t have my daddy’s arms to hold her, but that didn’t stop my date with Freddie.

Γ

As soon as Mama locked the door and I made sure she didn’t leave anything behind, I was pulling pink rollers out of my hair and fixing my floppy bangs into style. I rushed to get dressed into the outfit Maxine picked out for me, and slipped on the sweatshirt that said I was Freddie’s property.

That boy was right on time. I could smell his Calvin Klein Obsession cologne, and the scent of Scope on his breath. I looked down at his new RUN-DMC Adidas, his black Calvin Klein jeans and his shirt with my name on it in big gold letters, and I swore I had found true love. He was the perfect gentleman when he came to the door.

Listen, I know your mother a kill you for going out with me, so I’m a have you home early so she won’t find out. I called OJ cab service. A big Cadillac’s gonna pick you up with tinted windows so the nosey neighbors won’t see you. Just get in the car, and I’m going ‘round back to meet you around the corner. Okay? Freddie whispered to me, and of course I nodded. He had it all planned out and that turned me on. A cab service? Meet me around back?

That was the first sign that Freddie was a sneaky bastard, but I was actually going out on a date with the finest boy in the neighborhood. I convinced myself that the long Cadillac wasn’t just a cab, but a chauffeured limousine. At least that’s what I told all my girlfriends back then.

We cruised up to Fordham Road and went to Lowe’s Paradise movie theater to see She’s Gotta Have It. Of course, Freddie picked a movie that I liked. He bought me enough popcorn and Bon-Bon’s to keep me full, but that didn’t stop me from eating at the fancy Chinese restaurant on the Grand Concourse when the movie was over. I wasn’t officially his girl either, but that didn’t stop him from buying me roses or us taking a picture in a big old wicker chair together. It was a New York thing. Bright lights, big city, backdrops and Polaroid pictures with the one you love. Like Freddie promised, I was home by 10:30.

Freddie and I got out of the cab a block away from the house. Go inside and wait for me in the vestibule, he said. He was wonderfully demanding that way.

At that point I, was ready to be his girlfriend and would do anything he asked of me. His commanding presence turned me on. I was a naïve girl on her first date with a nice boy, whose family was about something. I was used to being locked up and Freddie set me free while announcing to the world with our matching shirts that we were one.

Twenty minutes later, he stepped through the front door of the house he would inherit one day, and closed it slowly. Open the door, he whispered, pointing at the door to my mother’s house.

Hell no! I whispered back. I’ll get in trouble if I bring company over when my mother is not home. My mother could smell the dust on a quarter and would know if I had someone in her house.  She could smell a person’s scent, but it took me years to figure that one out.

Freddie smiled instead of being upset. Did you have a good time? he asked.

I nodded like a Bobble-Head doll as I stared into his big brown eyes.

He stepped closer to me. Do you like me now?

I nodded again, thinking he should have known that since I risked my life to go out with him.

Do you trust me?

Yes, I half mumbled.

Okay, go in your house. When I knock on the door that goes to the basement, open it. I want to show you something, he said.

My heart beat faster and I choked from the lumps of spit that formed in my throat when I got nervous.

Mama’s gonna kill me, I thought as I locked the front door and headed to the kitchen. Freddie’s gonna kill you, my paranoia warned as my heart beat even faster when I turned the doorknob to the basement. Just go see what he wants to show you, the devil inside me said.

Shhh, Freddie warned as he held my sweaty hand and took the squeaky wooden steps down to the basement. The only thing I ever went down there for was to put my old bike away, and I was too old to say I wanted to ride my 10-speed if I was caught with Freddie down there. Just being in the basement was enough to raise Mama’s suspicion, and that alone could cause her to kill me. But like a trapped girl going through puberty without understanding my feelings, I went into that basement blindly.

After entering the cool basement, we reached a white door. Freddie picked up a fork from on top of the doorframe and pried the door open. I walked into the dark across hard linoleum, and tasted Pine Sol; the smell was everywhere. My eyes adjusted to the darkness. We were making our way through the kitchen of an empty basement apartment.

We stopped at a room door. You okay? he asked.

Un huh, I murmured trying to swallow that stubborn spit so I could breathe. I felt my pulse in my ears. I was terrified, yet intrigued.

Freddie opened the door. It was a furnished bedroom. Red drapes covered two short windows. Red candles were on an old wooden dresser, and a queen-sized bed that seemed big and neglected took up most of the space in the room.

This is where guests stay when they come over. I want to show you something.

Wha-what-do you want to show me? I asked. I had gone too far, and if anybody caught us, I was already tried and convicted.

Sit here, he said as he sat me on the bed. He lit three candles then returned to me leaning in close, staring at my lips. I want to show you this. His soft lips wrapped my bottom lip. I closed my eyes, felt his warmth and returned his kisses the best way I knew how.

Open your mouth, he instructed between kisses.

His hot tongue slid to mine. It was my first kiss, and I loved it, even if it was the weirdest thing I ever felt. Before I knew it, I was down on my back, and instead of some of the horror stories I heard, Freddie asked, You want me to stop?

I wanted him to keep taking me wherever we were going. My nipples pulsated. I breathed heavily. The room spun. But I felt so gooooood.

If you want me to stop, just say so, Freddie said. He held my mouth tenderly. Relax, just move your tongue with mine.

The boy was smooth. He took his time tasting my tongue. It was like the tango and he led me wherever he wanted. He licked the spit oozing from the side of my mouth like he was thirsty and my saliva was Mountain Dew. We kissed, and kissed some more. Then I felt his hands on my naked belly.

What are you doing? I asked. My mother’s warnings ran through my head.

Trust me, he whispered.

Freddie ran his tongue down the side of my neck and I learned I had a weak spot. It felt so good. His mouth heated my flesh in a way I had never experienced. His scent penetrated and the smell of his breath on skin turned me on. I was aroused by his masculinity.  My body quivered when he slid his tongue from my neck to my ear. My coochie got wet for the first time. Inside my walls throbbed. They ached and yearned for him. I felt my stomach tremble as his warm hands slid up my shirt. Then I stopped breathing as he fumbled with the clasp of my bra. Freddie twisted the clasp and my breasts fell into his strong hands.

While our lips danced, he pinched my erect nipples. My nipples were at attention and hurt so good when he pinched them. The many feelings I was experiencing all at once was mind blowing. I wanted his lips more as he gave me more. I imitated what I saw women do in movies. I put my hands under his shirt and felt the knotted muscles in his back. When his lips touched my dark nipples, a chill ran through my body and I felt a warmth that tingled and numbed my brain.  I knew passion.

My mind bounced, raced with thoughts of how damn good I felt, to my mother catching me, and then how great it felt to be loved. Freddie kissed me and held my body in ways that made me dizzy. Then I freaked out again.

Freddie stopped kissing me.  He stood up like a seasoned stripper and threw his shirt off.

Oh my God, I thought when the boy showed me his naked muscles. It was the first time I ever saw a man half-naked before, and then the rest of his clothes fell to the floor and I saw his stiffness bouncing at me.

What are doing? I asked in fear. I fixed my shirt and held on to my pants for dear life. I’m a virgin and I can’t have sex until I’m married, I blurted out.

If Freddie planned on raping me, I was way out of line. I had no business being in a dark basement. My eyes couldn’t stop looking at his manhood.

Zondra, I want you to be my girl forever, he whispered, moving closer to the bed. We don’t have to do nothing, I just want you to look at me, he pleaded.

Freddie walked over to me and I weakened at the sight of him. My legs slowly opened with each step he took towards me. I felt his naked body through my clothes. He kissed me all over and I was drunk with his affection, not wanting it to stop. His hands explored my young, firm body. As we kissed, he urged my hands to explore his. I got lost between him putting his lips on my nipples and him telling me that he was in love. Then Freddie put my hand on his dick,

I don’t want to get pregnant, I yelled.

I pushed him off and ran to the exit with my breasts bouncing as fast as my feet took steps. I was rushing out of that basement like a stickup kid had pulled out a jammy and was ready to blast me. I ran so fast through the dark hall that I tripped on the creaky stairs, banged my head, spun, and raced up to my apartment. When I reached the top I was dizzy, but managed to slam the door shut. I raced to my room, and rushed to take off my clothes.

I quickly re-rolled my hair in curlers, and prayed that God would forgive me for opening my legs even though I still had my clothes on.

Γ

What was I supposed to do? There I was stuck with not wanting to disobey my mother by opening my legs, but I was loving every minute of Freddie’s affection. The way his arms held me and his lips caressed mine, I swear I was in love.

The next balmy afternoon, Maxine and I were sitting on the stoop as usual. I told her almost everything about the night before.

Girl, here come your man, she said, her voice full of jealousy.

Freddie smiled when he saw me. He bopped down the hill towards our stoop and handed me a square, white box.

Ooo, girl, he want to marry you, Maxine mumbled foolishly.

If you take from a man, he’s gonna expect you to give, Mama always warned me, so I studied the box. What’s this? I asked timidly.

His smile would have put Denzel to shame. It’s for you. If you serious about us, I’ll know when you put it on. If not, then I’ll just take it back. He ditty bopped by Maxine and me. Call me. I’ll be upstairs.

As soon as Freddie closed the front door, nosey Maxine jumped in. Girl open the box-open the box!

Even though it was my first gift from a boy, for the sake of Maxine, I acted like it was a common occurrence. I opened the box and both of our heads dropped, our eyes locked onto the shiny token of Freddie’s affection.

Maxine put her hand to her mouth. "Oh...my...gawd! She looked at me all wide eyed like I was Kobe’s wife after the sex scandal. I think Freddie’s in love with you."

A thin, gold, rope chain with a pendant that had Zondra & Freddie in script lay on white cotton. My mind reeled. My heart raced. I wanted to cry. But I just smirked because my eyes were on Maxine and I could tell jealousy was eating her bummy butt up.

She looked at me and then looked back at the box. "Zondra I’m a tell you right now; girl, you better go ‘head and give him some. He like you, girl. She looked at the chain again. He really like you. You better stop fronting and let him get some. She inched closer and put her hand on my legs, using my eyeballs as mirrors. Listen girl. Ain’t none of these bums around here ever gonna look out for you like that. Freddie’s the man. He can give you this house when y’all get older. He got a job, plus he go to school, and his family give him everything cause he the only child. They say he even got his own phone up in there. Maxine paused then asked, You gone let him pop your cherry?"

I rolled my eyes and wanted to have all the right answers, but I wasn’t as slutty as Maxine. I said, How you know my cherry ain’t already been popped?

Her hand covered her mouth. Ouuu girl. That’s why he gave you that chain, she proclaimed, convinced she had the answers. Then she put her lips to my ear. Do he got a big one?

Like an adult I answered. Yeah, I said standing up. And it’s all mine. I waved goodbye to Maxine and put the chain around my neck, proudly declaring, My man is waiting.

Thank God Mama let me use the phone. I called Freddie immediately. We spoke for hours about what we did the night before, how it made us feel and about us being boyfriend and girlfriend. Of course, I told him that I wanted to be his girl. But I wasn’t ready for sex, and like the decent man he was, Freddie told me he would wait until I was ready.

For two months Freddie and I did everything together when we had the chance. For my sixteenth birthday he bought me a new Yankees Starter jacket. He was always taking care of me and the Virgo in me loved the attention. He would meet me at school with his father’s Cadillac, take me out, and shower me with gifts.

On Halloween Mama went away with Zion and his father. Since I was a senior in high school and got straight A’s, and I did a great job of hiding the chain, and Freddie’s gifts and passion marks from Mama, I was trusted to stay at home alone for two days.

I had heard so much about sex. All my life I had been warned about opening my legs to a man. They told me all sorts of things from how much it hurt the first time, to sex becoming an addiction. All my girlfriends teased me for still being a virgin. I was confused. When I had this incredible zit on my face, all the girls told me it was because I wasn’t having sex. Along with the peer pressure, my hormones were raging. I found myself getting hot and bothered just thinking about Freddie. I saw romance in the movies, and saw passion in school hallways, but had no knowledge of sex, but I wanted to. On that Halloween day I decided to do something about it.

I’m ready, boo, I told Freddie as he sat on my bed.

Ready for what? He asked so innocently my heart melted.

I sat on the bed, which no man had ever sat on, and that my mother would murder over if she smelled his cologne and knew Freddie was in her house. I kissed him, ran my hand over his body, and looked into his eyes. To give myself to you.

You sure? Freddie was all teeth.

Yes...I’m sure. I want to marry you.

Freddie stood and then looked down at me. I’m a give you some time to think if you’re really sure. If you are, come down to the basement in an hour.

We necked in my bed for a few more minutes, and I tried to get him to take me then, but not Freddie Washington. He was smooth and was going to take care of his future wife.

While he was gone, I tried to think of a way to look sexy for Freddie, and since I didn’t have a luxurious negligee, I settled for my oversized Walt Disney World tee shirt. I was naked under the shirt, with my mother’s oversized high heels and shiny, bubble gum flavored lip-gloss.

I wobbled down the stairs. With each cautious step I wondered if losing my virginity would instantly turn me into a woman, or make me different, or put some kind of hidden sign on my face that only mothers could read. I was scared, but my desire to give my body to Freddie outweighed my fear.

Luther Vandross was playing when I reached the basement. The words and sounds lead me to the familiar door.  Freddie had the candles lit, the music playing, and the bed made up with fresh linen. The scent of Pine Sol was replaced with Frankincense. It heightened my senses. He only wore his light-blue Adidas sweat pants and his gold rope chain with the huge Nefertiti medallion laid on his naked chest. His Adidas sneakers were off to the side. Before I had a chance to speak, he walked up to me and I tasted the Doublemint gum on his tongue.

Freddie kissed me long and strong. I tasted all kinds of love after each flicker of his tongue. He teased me with the tip and made me greedy for all of it. He fed my greed by giving me every inch. I didn’t know how to handle it but I figured it out along the way. I sucked it, devoured it, and tried to own it. He was pleased with my eagerness and I felt his satisfaction as it rubbed against me. The heat from his skin burned my flesh. He consumed my youth as he bit my bottom lip and sucked the top. After a half-hour of kissing, he stripped off my oversized shirt. He took me through foreplay and five play. His sixth play took a little longer because he didn’t want to hurt me.

I’m not hurting you, am I? he asked me a hundred times.

I could feel him entering me so I had my eyes closed. No...don’t stop, I whimpered.

Freddie was sweet and gentle. Our tongues danced with the devil as he penetrated me. I gushed in anticipation. I was embarrassed about the way I felt and wanted to freak him in return. I was a novice but I wanted it. My body tingled all over, but to be straight up, I was expecting something else. When we were done, I was expecting fireworks to explode, for me to hear music coming from my heart, loud and meaningful; the kind that carried pleasant memories from late nights at block parties or some form of orgasmic nuclear bomb to go off in my body. I was certain the rhythm from the dopest hip hop song would rumble between my thighs. I thought the sweet taste of penny candy would seep from my pores from a love so divine. Yes, my hymen ripped and I saw specks of blood, but I had been seeing my period for years and that wasn’t a big deal. But as time went on, I became addicted.

Those girls warned me about that.

Physical intimacy had become an addiction. I loved the way we freaked. My walls throbbed at the thought of him. When it was over, I was already overdue. We had sex everywhere we could get away with it after the first time. Movies, dinner, and going out had taken a back seat to my need for affection. In that loving I was looking for my daddy, my dreams to come true, for Freddie to be like Cliff Huxtable and every one of the husbands I saw on TV.

For months we used the pull-out method. Everything that I was taught told me to use protection, but the love blinded me. I made excuses for myself, thinking that if I used birth control and my mother found the pills that she would switch them and poison me. I asked Freddie about using condoms, but since his parents were in on the sexual secret I was keeping from my mother, and since they let me come and go in and out of their house, and since he called me his wife, I really thought I was his wife, so I messed around and got pregnant.

My mother’s gonna kill me, Freddie! I bawled. I have school, and I have finals and I’m applying to different colleges. What are we gonna do? I cried so much that Valentine’s Day that I used a bottle of Visine when it was over.

I can take care of you. I want you to have the baby, and I’m...

Freddie’s father knocked on the door and then pushed it open. Baby? he asked when he walked in on us.  My eyes locked onto his bushy mustache and his popped eyes. Then I was ready to piss my pants when he sat on the bed between us.

Now you tell me what was I supposed to do? There I was in my man’s bedroom discussing the scariest thing in my life and his father walked in.  So what did Freddie do?  He handled it like I never would have.

Yeah, Pop; Zondra’s pregnant.

Mr. Washington shook his head. I’m going to tell you two what you have to do, cut and dry. The man sighed then shook his head. When I saw the tears in his eyes, I knew he was the type of man I wanted my children to call Grand Pa. You two have to do some thinking. You have your whole lives ahead of you. When you have a child, you can be a parent, or you can just be Mommy and Daddy. If you decide to be parents, your life as you know it has to stop. You have to put your children first above all else. You can’t do that now, so I’ll support you to a degree, but I’m not taking care of adults. Your options are an abortion or changing your lives. He tapped Freddie on the shoulder. I’m sure you’ll make the right choice, Son.

Was this how most fathers behaved and interacted with their children? I never knew my own father, and had often imagined, in my wildest dreams, where he would magically appear and teach me all the life lessons I needed to advance on my own personal journey, conversations like the one Mr. Washington had with Freddie and I. He wasn’t my father, but I was comforted by his words. His presence made me feel as if I had made the right decision by giving Freddie my everything. If he was born of blessed seed, then I too, would benefit from his birth. He was, in that moment, the father I needed and never had. Perhaps if he had been my father, I would not have been in his son’s bedroom pregnant with his grandchild.

That was mighty grown of Freddie’s dad to say, but I didn’t know how to explain to him that I was trapped. The right thing to me was to do whatever I had to do to take care of my child, even though I didn’t have a clue how to make it out in the world on my own. I knew having that child meant losing the already strained relationship I had with my mother. It meant throwing away my dreams of having a good job, and stopping my young life as I knew it. It also meant having a lifetime connection with the boy that I loved more than life itself.  I knew Freddie would make me Mrs. Washington before I had our child, but the hardest thing for me to accept was that I so irresponsible. I hadn’t lived life yet, and now I was being asked to give it up because I was in love.

What am I gonna do? I asked Freddie.

I swear God was looking out for me. Whatever you wanna do I’m gonna be behind you a hundred percent. You the one that’s gonna have to carry the baby inside of you. I love you, and you gonna be my wife.

Perfect answer, but I didn’t want that. I wanted him to comfort me and let me know everything was going to be okay. I wanted him to yell at me, like I was yelling at myself, and to accuse me of being dumb for getting pregnant. If I had been mad, I would have an excuse for killing my child. Freddie’s arms held me, but I was lonelier than I had ever been. I wished that I were rich, because where I was from, money meant the difference between life and death for my child and me.

After approaching my mother at least ten times to tell her the news, but then chickening out in fear, Freddie and I made a decision.

When that doctor was scraping my soul and taking that life from me, I could tell I was defying God. That day my spirit cried and my heart wept because I wanted that child. I wanted to see if she would have these pretty eyes of mine. I wanted to know he wouldn’t be as black as me so he wouldn’t be teased in school. I wanted to make Mama proud and make Freddie my husband, and make a life for my family. But when you’re poor, black and in deep trouble, you can’t do everything you want to do. I grew up real fast then. That day I understood the difference between needs and wants.

As I shuffled out of the clinic, I felt a pain in my mind, body and soul. I wanted to warn every girl I knew to never get pregnant unless you planned on raising a child. I was hurting, and I wanted to find one of those white women protesting about the right to life so I could punch her in the face. They’re always hollering about us getting abortions. I don’t see none of them adopting all those children whose mothers didn’t want to abort them, but that’s another story and I ain’t about to bore you with my politics.

I stepped out of the operating room and Freddie was there waiting on me.  He took me home. I had lied to Mama that I was going to spend the weekend at Maxine’s house. Maxine covered for me while I was right above Mama’s head in Freddie’s room getting well.

In no time Freddie and I was back to having sex like rabbits. I took the necessary precautions of protecting myself with a diaphragm, and I ain’t gonna lie, at times I was irresponsible again, but thank God, Jesus and Buddha, I didn’t get pregnant again. Our sex life was great, but then one day Freddie said, Just kiss it for me. Come on, put it in your mouth.

Losing my virginity was one thing, and having sex unprotected was another, but him putting that thing in my mouth was a whole 'nother story. I mean, just having sex from behind was a big ordeal for me, so what was he thinking when he said, You suppose to do everything to me. You my wife, right?

Shhheet. Of course I refused. I wasn’t nasty then, so Freddie caught an attitude and grew tired of me denying him.

Between me waiting to be approved for academic scholarships, waiting for acceptance letters from various colleges, and taking care of my chores, I was neglecting Freddie.

As spring dwindled into summer, Freddie asked me to marry him. Of course I said ‘yes,’ but I didn’t take it that serious because he didn’t buy me a ring, and every time the boy was on top of me he was calling me his wife anyways. So since we were playing house, I went all out to decorate the basement with Mama’s sheets, his mama’s sheets, and a few personal knick-knacks of our own.

One morning I raced up the back steps to Freddie’s house. I walked past his parents like I did a thousand times before and my boo wasn’t in his room. Based on the way his jewelry was on the dresser, I figured he was in the bathroom, so I sat on his bed trying to look cute for him when he walked through the door.

After ten minutes, I realized he wasn’t in the bathroom. I walked out of the bedroom looking for what was mine. His parents were sitting in the kitchen staring at each other affectionately, and I knew Freddie and I would be in that same spot thirty years later.

Did you guys see Freddie? I asked.

His father broke the gaze from the apple in his eye. Sure, sugar, he’s around here somewhere.

I figured he was off to the store so I shrugged my shoulders. Okay, could you tell him that I’ll be downstairs please?

Sure, sugar, will do, my future mother-in-law answered.

I ambled down the creaking stairs to my landing. Be quiet, I heard my man’s voice from down below.

What the hell is going on down there?  I debated with myself for some time.  To hell with this. I crept down the stairs. I used the fork to unlock the door and eased my way through my home-away-from-home until I reached the bedroom door. Frankincense was burning, I could hear Patti on WBLS singing Kiss Away The Pain. I could sense someone else was in our room. My mind told me to mind my business and go back upstairs, but my heart said to get a butcher knife and kick in the door.

It was like being in a situation where I knew what was going on, but I didn’t want to know what was going on. So I acted like what was going on, really wasn’t going on. I had to find out what the hell was going on. So I used all of my strength not to kick it in. I followed my mind, eased the door open and everything changed.

The sight of Maxine’s naked backside in the bed, and Freddie’s naked chest with his eyes locked at Maxine’s mouth doing tricks with his thing crumbled my foundation. My heart dropped to hell, my head got dizzy, and through my blurry vision, I saw orange moons, yellow stars, green clovers and blue diamonds.

Fred-Freddie-how-how could you? I remember asking while I was gasping for air.

His face looked like a burglar that dug his way into a precinct. He quickly fumbled to cover himself, which I didn’t understand. It was me that always saw his nakedness. It was me who washed his body in my mother’s tub when I could have gotten killed for it, and it was me he lied next to naked in his bed at home.  At home!

To make matters worse, when I looked at Maxine, my best friend smiled at me. Pardon my French, but the no good, skeezer-bitch smiled this devious smile like she was a ferocious cat that caught a giant mouse in her mouth. Instead of killing over that boy, I freaked out and ran! I snatched the gold necklace off my neck, threw it at him, and ran so fast I tripped and bumped my head until I stumbled into my room ready to end my life.

For weeks I couldn’t eat, sleep, or even have a thought without Freddie being on my mind. I couldn’t hear a love song on the Quiet Storm radio show because it sent me into convulsions. I must have lost ten pounds in two weeks and patches of my silky hair fell out. I wanted to kill Freddie. He had always been perfect with me, so how was I to handle his imperfection. He sent me gifts, and I became trifling.

Zee, just tell me what I gotta do to get you back? Anything, baby; I’m sorry. I was stupid. Freddie begged through the closed door that led to our desecrated love nest.

Stupid couldn’t describe what I was feeling. Embarrassed couldn’t come close to what it felt like when my heart exploded into a million tiny pieces. Downright depressed is what happened when clouds invaded my happiness and nothing seemed to feel good but crying. Freddie didn’t understand that he had me so hooked that I was a part of him. I saw myself as Freddie’s girl so much that I stopped being me, and only focused on what he wanted me to be. And if he’s reading this right now, didn’t you know that I didn’t know how to be anything else besides your girl, you bastard?

After I got mad, I decided to get even. I made a long list of things I would need for college and slid it under the door when he came begging. After he delivered everything, I rejected him even more. When he got aggressive, I did what any good daughter would do; I told Mama that he was harassing me. After Mama unleashed her Gee-Chee wrath, Freddie stopped begging.

It took me awhile to deal with his arms not holding me, but there was no way I was going to take him back. Why? Because I was smart enough to know that if he was going to dog me once, he would do it again. That was the time Mama’s voice and life lessons echoed throughout my psyche, and that time, I was smart enough to listen. I also got a letter in the mail that fixed everything. Morgan State University accepted me with a full scholarship. I was going to Baltimore all by myself, to a campus full of