Tonight is the night Rita gonna take me down to Incest Survivor meeting. We going on bus.
Harlem is small, but when you in it it look like the world. I have a subway map on my bedroom door, show all the places the subway go. Subway go to Queens, Brooklyn—I look at it sometimes and wonder where I be if I get on train and go to end of the line or get off at say, ummm, let's see, how about Lefferts Blvd in Queens or Middletown Road in the Bronx? What kinda town or part of New York it will be. Jermaine say be a white boy with a baseball bat when you get out of the subway. Rita say it's NOT true, or if it be true it's only part true.
So here I go! Precious going downtown. Precious what never go to summer camp; hear kids talk about going to camp where crackers is. Fresh Air funds and police league and shit. A land of tents and lakes. But maybe if I had gone to camp it be jus' like school in oP days—no friends. Me 'n Rita get the 102 downtown. Rita done got her teef fixed. New guy she with got money. White guy.
Got HIV too. He loves Rita. He was addict (I didn't know crackers was addicts). His parents stop giving him money when he was addict. But now he's sick they want to give him everything.
Plus he got necktie job, briefcase, the whole bit.
Rita got dream, he behind it. We all behind it.
Rita want house in Harlem for HIV womens and their kids. I can get behind that. In my journal I write:
bus wheel turn me through time past a Mama mama
first you see
the buildings like watching
a cartoon backwards
seem to be getting putted
back together
it's weird. (I am homer on a voyage but from our red bricks in piles
of usta be buildings
and windows of black
broke glass eyes.
we come to buildings bad
but not so bad
street cleaner
then we come to a place
of
everything is fine
big glass windows
stores
white people
fur
blue jeans
its a different city
I'm in a different city
Who I be I grow up
here?
where a poodle dog •
is not on tv
but walking down the street
on skinny white
bitch lease.
This whose ass
they want
me to wipe?
Push wheelchair for—
I kill 'em first.
TYGER TYGER BURNING BRIGHT
That's what in Precious
Jones heart—a tyger.
bookstores
cafe
BLoomydales!
Bus keep on rolling
We git off at 14th Street. Rita say we can get cross-town bus or walk. I say walk; so we walk over to Seventh Avenue where Lesbian and Gay Center Building is. Rita not gay but this is where meeting is. We are going to Tuesday night Survivors of Incest Anonymous. I never been here before. Ms Rain, Rita, Rhonda, and Jermaine and house mom, all say GO. So I am good to go!
The center is big.
When I git in meeting I don't say nothing. It's people sitting in a circle. I'm spozed to talk. I will never talk here! lb talk I have to tell how I feel in my body. The war. My body my head I can't say it right. How cum I'm so young and feel so old. So young like I don't know nuffin', so old like I know everything. A girl have her father's dick in her mouth know things the other girls don't know but it's not what you want to know.
It's all kinda girls here! They sitting in circle faces like clocks, no bombs. Bombs with hair and titties and dresses. After I sit here five minutes I know I am a bomb too. Only sitting here doing whatever they gonna do will keep me from blowing up.
Thank you Rita for git me here on time.
"Hello." She look like a movie star! Slim, long hair, eyes like stars, red lips. "My name is Irene. I am an incest survivor."
My mouth fall open. Someone like that.
"It started when I was, oh, about four or five years old with him fondling me" (feeling her up).
"By the time I was twelve he was having intercourse with me three or four times a week."
Everything is floating around me now. Like geeses from the lake. I see the wings beating beating hear geeses. It's more birds than geeses. Where so many birds come from. I see flying. Feel flying. Am flying. Far up, but my body down in circle. Precious is bird.
Someone is holding my hand. It's Rita. She is massage my hand. I come back from being a bird to hear beautiful girl crying. Smell Mama.
Carl, the way his knees on either side of my neck.
Girl say, "Thank you for letting me share." She say, 'This is a Tuesday night beginner's meeting, to share raise your hand." I raise my hand. My hand is going up through the smell of Mama, my hand is pushing Daddy's dick out my face.
"I was rape by my father. And beat." No one is talking except me. "Mama push my head down in her ..." I can't talk no more. Beautiful girl whisper to me, "Are you through?" I say yes. She say,
"Pick the next person." I look up from my shoes, Nikes; girls got they hand up. I pick girl in overalls with blue eyes. Grab Rita's hand, listen.
Listen to girl rape by brother, listen to old woman rape by her father; don't remember till he die when she is 65 years old. Girls, old women, white women, lotta white women. Girl's younger sister murdered by the cult? Jewish girl, we had money on Long Island (like Westchester), my father was a prominent child psychiatrist. It started when I was about nine years old. Girls like Jermaine is, I am a proud lesbian. But it's the only thing I'm proud of; I was confine to a mental institution for fourteen years, diagnosed as a schizophrenia—
What am I hearing!
One hour and a half women talk. Can this be done happen to so many people? I know I am not lying! But is they? I thought cult was in movie.
What kinda world this babies raped. A father break a girl's arm. Sweet talk you suck his dick.
All kinda women here. Princess girls, some fat girls, old women, young women. One thing we got in common, no the thing, is we was rape.
Afterwards we go out for coffee. I have never been "out for coffee" before. Rita put her arm around my shoulder, I order hot chocolate 'cause that's what I like. Blond girl who is airline stewardess say, "Precious! That's a beautiful name!"
I'm alive inside. A bird is my heart. Mama and Daddy is not win. I'm winning. I'm drinking hot chocolate in the Village wif girls—all kind who love me. How that is so I don't know. How Mama and Daddy know me sixteen years and hate me, how a stranger meet me and love me. Must be what they already had in they pocket.
It's a black girl across the table from me with long pretty hair in dreadlocks like Ms Rain. But not wild like Ms Rain. I surprise myself. "How you get your hair like that?" I say.
"Oh," she say, "you like it? I do yours one day you want. That's what I do—fix people's hair and makeup." She give me a card!
Rita ask me do I want another hot chocolate. I do but don't want to be greedy. Even if boyfriend do give her money she got better things to spend it on then Precious Jones. She hug me and ask waitress, "Could I have another hot chocolate and cappuccino." I like how Rita is, she know the world, how to act and stuff. Sometimes I don't have a clue!
Well, today counseling session wif Mama. She call here, call here, call here, asking social worker to see we. I tell Ms Weiss no. Then Ms Weiss tell me I should see her. Why I should? I ask. For your own good, for yourself, to see what she has to say. Spozed to meet today 4 p.m.
Watch say one minute to four. Down one two three four five six seven eight steps, then a little landing then eight more steps. I walk through door, one minute past four. What she want now?
Mama sitting on big green couch. Ms Weiss looking at me waiting for me to sit down. I sit down. Ms Weiss say to Mama, "Well Mrs Johnston, may I call you Mary?"
"I don't care." Mama look down at her shoes which is big men's loafers. Room smell all funny.
Mama stink. Got on big orange-color sleeveless dress, torn under the arms. Hair fucked up. Eyes look stupid wifout red evil light on to hit you.
I think Ms Weiss jus' freak mind. Lie to Mama, bull-corn me. Probably Mama think coming here talking to Ms Weiss in counselin' session gonna git me back, me 'n Abdul. So why do that? I don't git what Ms Weiss doin'. I need house for me 'n Abdul. Advancement House is for womens and girls with newborn and young babies. I gotta be out of this mutherfucker soon. I wanna finish at Each One Teach One 'n gone get my G.E.D. I want maybe git Lil Mongo out retard house where she lay on floor in pee clothes but Ms Weiss wanna know my earliest memory of Mama? I open my notebook and look in it.
whut is my erliest mcmry memory of my mother?
a room that's small fillt up wif my parents, it smell, can of mackerel left open in kitchen on hot day that's what make me remember, that smell, he put his ball in my face, years like wash machine aroun and around, mama jaw open like evil wolf, the smell deeper than toilet, her fingers pick apart my pussy, night, poisoned rat. don't have dreams.
I close my book.
"Well Mary, you want to begin by talking a little bit about the abuse?" Ms Weiss say to Mama.
"What 'buse?"
"Well according to Precious' files she has had two children by your boyfriend, the late Carl Kenwood Jones, who is also her father} You've been calling here saying you want to be reunited with your daughter and grandson, that you want them to come home. Well I think you'd better explain just what happened in that home."
Oh Mama, please don't go for this!
"Well, I, Precious, b'long at home."
Mama please be quiet.
"When did the abuse happen, how often, where?
When were you first aware of what was going on Ms Johnston?"
"I guess, he come over you know. I wake up at night, morning he not wif me, I know he in there wif her. When it first start? I don' know. I'm a good mother. She had everything. I done tole her that. Pink 'n white baby carriage, little pink bootie socks, dresses; everything I put on her pink.
Precious, she, so smiling and healthy. A day don't go by I don't take her out wheeling in the air.
Even when it's cold I take her out, to church, to somewhere, me 'n Carl—my husband, I call him
—loves Precious. I loves him. I dream of day we gonna you know, git married, git house wif grass, color TVs in all the rooms. Precious she born about the same time as Miz West son that got kilt. You remember him don't you Precious?"
What is she talkin' about!
"He born summertime 'bout same time as you."
"I born November," I say. Least that what I always thought.
"Yeah yeah thas right. My little Scorpio chile!
Scorpio's crafty. I ain' sayin' they lie, jus' you cain't always trust 'em. But anyway Precious
'bout the same age as Gary, Miz West son got kilt, give or take a few months! But ooh wheee!
Precious fast! She walkin' talkin'— everything
'fore Miz West son. Her teef, everything. Teef growing like Bugs Bunny or something! She can do little dance steps and he hardly walking. I put on Kool and the Gang, remember Precious, you remember? I put on Kool and the Gang and you disco to that? She had a happy childhood all 'n all, Carl jus' a high-natured man . . ."
I don't believe Mama! Why don't she jus' shut up with this diarrhea shit!
"When? I don't know when it start. When I remember it? She still little. Yeah, around three maybe. I give her a bottle. I still got milk in my bresses but not for her but from Carl sucking. I give him tittie, Precious bottle. Hygiene, you know?"
"Huh?" Ms Weiss go.
"Huh?" go Mama back.
"You mentioned something about hygiene in connection with ... with ..." Ms Weiss can't finish.
"I bottle her, tittie him. Bottle more better for kidz.
Sanitary. But I never git dried up 'cause Carl always on me. It's like that you know. Chile, man
—a woman got bofe. What you gonna do? So we in bed. I put her on one side of me on pillow, Carl on other side me."
Ms Weiss look like she done stopped breathing.
"Carl got my tittie in his mouf. Nuffin' wrong wif that, it's natural. But I think thas the day IT start. I don't never remember nothing before that. I hot.
He sucking my tittie. My eyes closed. I know he getting hard I can see wifout my eyes, I love him so much."
Umm hmm, I was raised by a psycho maniac fool.
"He climb on me, you know. You unnerstand?"
No, tell us some more stupid bitch.
"So he on me. Then he reach over to Precious!
Start wif his finger between her legs. I say Carl what you doing! He say shut your big ass up!
This is good for her. Then he git off me, take off her Pampers and try to stick his thing in Precious. You know what trip me out is it almost can go in Precious! I think she some kin da freak baby then. I say stop Carl stop! I want him on me! I never wanted him to hurt her. I didn't want him doing anything to her. I wanted my man for myself. Sex me up, not my chile. So you cain't blame all that shit happen to Precious on me. I love Carl, I love him. He her daddy, but he was my man!''
Ms Weiss look at me now. "Precious, you've been writing in your journal about this.''
"This and other stuff."
"She write poems too, lady at Each One Teach One say." This from Mama. Mama one hundred, not ninety nine, percent crazy.
"Would you like to share some of that in this session?" Ms Weiss ask.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Ms Rain say journal completely confidential.
Share if you want. If you don't want to, don't. I don't want to."
I'm gone. It's 4:45 p.m. Up! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight steps. I hate Mama, she ain' shit. I feel like nothing around her, like minus nothing. I gotta get outta here.
I go down to kitchen where house mother is. "Miz Mom!"
"Stop screaming!" she say. "What's wrong with you?" "You could get Abdul from nursery, feed him, and keep a eye on him till I get back so I could go to Body Positive meeting?"
"Tonight's not your night—"
"Pleeezzze I gotta get outta here!"
"What happened with your mama?"