by Mark James
Kicking, screaming, throwing blows, (cussing if she could), is how she come into dis place. But just-born baby doh talk. Even though Dr. say how Nurse tell he dat baby say it hungry and to bring it back to d'room for Mother to see 'bout. Doh look at me, I just telling yuh what ah hear. Fists balled up like she looking for the culprit who responsible for this chaos. She stay so for days, barely sleepin', cryin' every five seconds, as she should, eyes wide, searching for who, for what? I don't know. After the waters fell she tumbled out not too long after, covered in red-grey contents but she black like night sky with a head full of hair and an expression on she face as if she was a whole person already. Mama say she go'be trouble, but I say she exactly what trouble need. Ah could barely tun'corner wid'out meh asshole twitchin'.
Is just so she did get up and start to walk. No stage-like progression; one day she was creepin', d'next day she get up from d'ground and walk in a straight line, is like not'ing I never see before in my life, God strike meh down if ah lyin'. Dem swear dey hear she suck she teeth, even though she ain't have none in she mouth: put she in stroller, she jump out, give she plastic toy, she look at it as if to say, "What I s'posed to do wid dat?, cover she wid baby blanket, she kick it off, teething ring, she fling it 'way. Nothing satisfy this baby girl except she mother and good fruit from d'stall 'round d'corner: mashed paw-paw, mango, oranges, and pomerac. That was d'only time she did quiet. Belly full-up and so she drop-asleep good, eat up all d'fruit she gums could handle, yes. Mother take ten minutes to wash and clean house and fix Daddy lunch fuh him because she know is just a matter of time before Maven up lookin' fuh breast milk, and then is rebellion and teeth suckin', wid she no-teeth self...
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