Acclaimed author Sandra Cisneros will be in Atlanta on April 27th to commemorate the twenty-fifth anniversary of the publication of her novel, The House on Mango Street. Sponsored by the Gwinnett County Public Library. Don't miss it!

Location: Norcross High School
Date: Monday, April 27, 2009
Time: 7:00-9:00 pm

Before The Thorn Merchant

“The Thorn Merchant sells pain. They are the dealers in human suffering.”
-Yusuf Komunyakaa

I never let men know
my fingers were to thin.
And I didn’t let them know

That my smile could stop
Wives from loving them
The way wide legs can

Stop dust from settling.
And when I wore red
I could almost see when

Masculine minds moved
From floury aprons to the
Scarlet sway of my behind,

pulling them along
with the rope of indulgence,
letting their hands burn.

Until he cut them loose
and bit my finger
and told me, “I know.”

Dirty Water

Before I grew breasts, and before my hips spread I was a wily thing. Always peeping in Mrs. May window to see what she did when Mista wasn’t home, or making sure to jump rope across from the Omega Five and Dime where the older boys could sit at the soda fountain, and through the window, see my skirt bouncing along with the rest of me.
Jump a little higher. Bounce a little harder.
I just took a liking to the things that made the hairs on my legs stand up. Never paid no heed to nobody’s word. Didn’t have to neither. They’re eyes told me all I needed to know. The way Pastor Simmons’ wife squeezed tight the corners of her eyes as I passed by in my new Sunday dresses, every year a different color. Every year the color brighter than the last.
Dresses can’t hide what generations show proof. Whore’s a whore.
And even though it wasn’t no peculiar sight to see me standing on a porch deck for little boys to see what the Lord made, when they’re Uncles or older brothers motioned them to scat- that shining of the eye, that squint that made you think the sun was hot and high on a cloudy day- that told me why it was my Momma never found out.
Oowee. That one’s there is gonna set this town on fire.
Truth be told it wouldn’t have made a difference if my momma found out or not. I was gonna do what pleased me best. Didn’t matter to me who turned a nose up, or squinted an eye, or reached for a belt strap. Cause the way I saw it, if being me was gonna get me in trouble anyway, might as well do what feels right.
See, I didn’t mind a little dust. Most other folk do their dirt and sweep it under the kitchen rug. Now, the truth’ll tell you where to find the dirt. But what the truth won’t tell you is how to get it clean.

The Easter Sunday I turned fourteen it was wet outside. My Momma told me to paint the eggs for the church hunt, and she told me to get out my new Sunday dress. But soon as her back was turned, I was out the door. I was trying to be quick so she wouldn’t see me when I slipped fast, and fell in the clay mud. Turned my yellow silk dress a deep rust color. Now, you’d think I would’a been worried bout my Momma taking the skin off my hide, but that mud stuck me. Used my weight against me. Reached around my hips and sunk me deeper. I laid back in it. And it held on tighter. Like that Creole come to Ms. May house when Mista ain’t home. It’s red was on my brown, and it wasn’t letting go. I could feel the cool through the buttons up my spine. That ruddy brown muck was in the creases in the plaits in my hair and the wide space between my knees. It crept around my neck and into my ears. Felt like spirits was talking to me. Saying, “Girl. This is what good feel like. Feel like the bottom of things.” Couldn’t tell if them spirits was Lucifer or Jesus. Wasn’t gonna move me either way.

I didn’t see my Momma look through the window at me as I lay there, legs parted, nipples showing through the spotted silk, fingers digging down so deep, deep in the mud I could feel the heat trapped down below. And I damn sure didn’t hear her coming. But I felt that belt. I ain’t hear no spirits then. Just the clat of leather on my bare thighs. She pulled me up out the ground so fast it made a loud noise. Sounded like a loud clap from a big man’s rough hands, like the earth was screaming out for me and didn’t want to let go.
I had never heard my Momma curse the Lord’s name before. She was hot that whole night. Kept yelling bout how she was trying so hard not to raise no damn heathen. Bout how she wasn’t gonna take no mess from me no more. All I could do was try to force the tears and keep the smile from off of my face. If I knew how serious my Momma was, that whooping woulda stopped me. But all I remembered was how good that mud felt before it got my ass beat. I did it again the next day, and the day after that. It wasn’t long before all of my dresses were covered with clay mud. They lay in a pile in the corner of the kitchen. Rust and green, rust and violet, rust and pomegranate red, all stuck together waiting for momma to wash. But she didn’t. She said if I insited on being dirty I was gonna show folks how dirty I insisted on being. And they saw. Mud tracks down the side walk, dusty fingerprints up and down the whitewashed fences. And the looks continued. The shopkeeper at the five and dime’s eyes would open wide then close to a squint whenever I came near the door. Not in here you don’t. The older boys at the fountain would glance, and then turn their greasy slick heads the other way. Too dirty to even think about it. I’d just prance back home, pour water onto dust and lay in the mud. And it went on like that until the cloth got too heavy to carry. So the dresses stayed in the corner of the kitchen, just a pile of clay and cloth.

I had taken to walking round town with just mud on when I met Reverend. The looks had stopped by then. Between the folks that thought I was plum out my mind, the folks who thought I was looking for attention, and the folks who didn’t give a damn either way as long as I didn’t come to close to them, people got tired of talking, and tired of looking.
Them same folks, called Reverend a holy man, ‘cept he wasn’t no preacher. Ain’t have no church house, no robes neither. He just sort of drifted from house to house spreading the word and prophesizing. Most times he could stay for dinner, every now and then he’d get took in by whoever was in the spirit. Most times he got to gettin’ in the morning before the spirit left, or round supper time when he wore out his welcome with somebody’s husband. Even Christians have limits, and it was round the end of Mista May’s limits, on one of them evenings, that Reverend came knocking on my Momma’s door. A broad tree of a man with skin like a thousand midnights, and hands big enough to take and save lives. He said he had a prophecy. Told my Momma I had demons, and he knew that that was something my Momma already knew, but he said what she didn’t know, on account that he hadn’t told nobody, was that he wasn’t just a prophesizer, but an exorcizer too. And that Jesus told him to knock on her door being that her child had demons and being that it was so cold and wet outside, and so warm in her house.
After supper that night, Reverend looked at me and said it was time to get to work. He asked my Momma to clear the table and went in the parlor. He came back with no shirt on and he was carrying a satchel that would have looked like a doctors case except it wasn’t leather. It was patchwork all over with a big yellow cross on the front. He said it was his special bag for Exorcisms and saving souls. Momma asked him why he was doing it in the kitchen and not anyplace decent, and he told my Momma that in a house of only women, the kitchen was were you could catch the most hell. After that she ain’t ask no more questions, told me to just do what he asked.

Reverend reached in his bag and pulled out four belt straps, a bible, a cross with Jesus on it, and a green bottle. He pulled Momma’s wash basin into the middle of the kitchen and told Momma to boil water. While the water was boiling Reverend started to sing. Amazing grace how sweet the sound. He grabbed me by my wrist. That saved a wretch like me. My feet were stuck, like that first day in the mud. I turned to look towards the back door and could feel my body calling out for it. I wanted it to mold itself around me, make me the bottom of things. I once was lost but now I’m found. Momma brought the water over to Reverend’s side. As he knelt down to pick up the water I tried to run out to the mud, but Momma held me where I was. She pressed against me so hard that I could feel her heart. Reverend dowsed Momma and I with the hot water, and as I watched the clay slide down my body, I began to cry. Was blind but now I see.
Reverend looked at me and my Momma. Looked us square in the face and said. Looked like both of you needed a good cleaning. Momma and I stepped out of the basin, bent down and both dumped out the dirty water.

Death of a Friend

The stinging rain seemed to make the night just a little bit darker. I quickly ran to Jessica’s house trying to get out of this bad storm after sleeping in Brandon’s car for the past two days. I was tired of being cramped up. Taping lightly on Jessica’s door, I hope her father doesn’t wake up again like last time. Lord knows I am not ready to defend myself against him because he can’t distinguish between being home and being at the bar arguing with some low life. Slowly opening up the door, I'm relieved to see its Jessica. Standing sluggishly, I knew she wasn’t happy seeing me since I’ve been missing for a whole week without letting her know where I was.
“Hey Alex, You okay?” Jessica mumbled
“Yea. Can I come in? Girl you know its freezing cold out here in this bad storm.”
“You know what I should let you freeze to death. But since I love you like a brother I guess you can sleep on the couch”.
I knew she would be mad but of course, after staring at my face for a few seconds she allowed her stubborn ways to step aside as she let me in. Following behind her, she wasn’t playing about sleeping on the couch tonight. She threw me her pillow, slammed the door and said “Good night.” Well at least I don’t have to worry about sleeping outside tonight. Even though we usually share her full size bed, the couch will have to do.
Jessica and I were both from low income housing projects in other words the GHETTO. We grew up together and we loved each other more than life its self, brother like sister that is. Growing up in a single parent home life for us hasn’t been easy. Jessica suffers from being love struck by a man she calls her father who beats her like a guy from off the streets, she deserves better . Graduating from high school top of her class, she actually turned down a full ride college scholarship just because she refused to leave her sorry father personally it was out of fear. On the other hand I left my mother’s drug invested home the same day after graduation. Barely making it out of high school, owing just about everything to Jessica, from graduating from high school to saving my mother’s life. Waking up strangers everywhere in the house smoking drugs and God knows what with my mother . She forgot she had a son the day she started smoking crack. I was no longer a son but a servant to satisfy my mother’s crack head needs from stealing out of men pants pockets to satisfying her lonely nights of comforts. Sometimes she just wanted true love from a man who was a boy.. . I was only thirteen, which lead to my angry abusive ways of beating my mother plenty nights for taking advantage of me. Hence, making the reason why, one night Jessica came in and saved my mom's life after nearly chocked her to death.
Growing up I was an angry little boy. No father figure around and mother on crack I had no one to talk to. Every night waking up to at least five new faces, hell I didn’t know how to cope. Selling drugs became my career, beating hoes was second nature, and raising myself was all I know. Fucked the world is what I live by, its all about me, damn what people think.
“Get up!” Jessica Shouted.
“What? Come on girl let me get some sleep. It’s Sunday the only day for me to sleep late .”
“Get Up Alex!
I laid there ignoring her hoping she would just go away. Guess not because next thing I knew she thump me on my ear screaming my government name.
“Alex Rashad Richardson. Get up now!”
“Okay Okay. I'm up. What’s up?” Half a sleep.
“Where you been? Why haven’t you kept in touch with me? What have you been doing? Oh my God, you stink!”
Chuckling as I wiped the crust out of my eyes. Trying to focus on Jessica’s face, I wasn’t ready to deal with her million dollar questions. “Jessica I'm alive. What do you want? Are you going to cook? And oh my you have a nose I'm glad you can use it. How about you make yourself useful girl get in the kitchen, run me a hot bath, and fetch me some of your daddy’s clothes.” I knew I should have seen it coming. She smacked me across my right cheek.
“Boy. Who you think you talking to like that? One of your hoes! Its cereal in the kitchen, take a shower, and if you dare go into Richard's room yourself and get an outfit! I don’t think so. Alex I will whop your ass. If you ever talk to me like that again. Now like I was saying. What you been doing?”
“Jess, why ask me something you already know. Come on now I’ve been dealing drugs for how long now. Hitting up the same people, nothing has changed. Just like you, looks like your daddy lost his mind again huh?”
Pulling on her right arm she had a big bruise on it.
“Let me go. I'm okay.” Get ready, we going to church.
“Church? Come on Jessica I don’t have time for this! Not today! Just pray for me… You already know that Sunday is a day I rest…
“For the good Lord to understand your pain. you don’t have to keep reminding me. I'm just saying it would do you some good. “
“Plus its boring church is in my past as a boy now I am a man. Naw I'm good. You just keep praying and do what you do while I hit the shower.”
“We are going to finish this conversation later Alex. You think you slick.
Man, I love that girl but dag she can be nerve wrecking sometimes. Well at least I get to take a hot shower. I haven’t had one of these in three days. Trying to keep myself out of the rain and out of Jessica’s face. Last time I saw Jessica I nearly beat her, my damn self. I found out she was messing around with one of my customers name Reggie and that fool ain’t no good. She deserves better than that. It’s ironic how she always talking about me and the girls I deal with but then turns around and deal with a crack head. I thought she was smarter than to date guys who replicate my lifestyle; however, I guess she’s just another weak-minded female trying to find love. Giving a little smirk, after taking a shower, it melts my heart to know how Jessica always has my back. She had an outfit for me to wear already sitting on the bathroom counter. What’s even better, she was cooking breakfast in the kitchen. I can smell the eggs and bacon already, no milk and cereal, Thank you Jesus.
Walking in the kitchen, Jessica still looked good. Standing 5’6, brown eyes, 160 pounds, with a tear drop booty, and short curly hair, I know exactly why Reggie was after her ass, literally.
“Jess, girl you’re the best!”
“yea, yea. Whatever, I figured you would be hungry.”
“Thanks. Where’s your dad?
“Out, somewhere who knows? Like you he’s been ghost. Well he didn’t come home last night. But you already know he will be walking in around 5:00 p.m.”
“Oh. Well are you done messing around with Reggie?”
“You ready to get save in the church?”
“Nope”
“Well I guess I'm not ready to let go of Reggie. Despite what you think of him buying drugs from you, he’s a good guy. He just needs someone’s help that’s all.
“Damn girl, when will women get it through their thick skulls that a woman can’t change a man. Reggie is full of shit and you know it!”
“Alex, at least he trying to change he went to church with me last Sunday.”
“And yea did you have sex with him?”
“That’s none of your business Alex.”
“I thought so.” Stay away from him. You so smart but dumb as hell if you think I guy like Reggie will love you.”
Jessica deeply sighed and looked away, as I stared at her trying to get her to change her mind.
I'm out. I’ll see you later.”
“Whatever, Alex, just make sure next time you check in with me before another bad storm comes along. Well at least you can do that for me.”
“Sure, Jess.”
I kissed her on the forehead and walked out the door. I knew Jess by now was praying for my safety, that girl can’t stand my lifestyle. She’s always talking about change but all I know is how to survive and she will never understand that or maybe she does. It’s the third Sunday of the month so I have to go to Sandra’s apartment and drop off this money for my daughter Crystal. The girl hasn’t put me on child support yet so I figure the least I can do is drop off $300 hundred a month to take care of my daughter. I hate not to be in her life but I refuse to fail as a man trying to help raise her. Finances are all I am go for emotional side sucks. What will I say to my daughter about life when mine is so fuck up? I don’t know how it feels to be loved by a parent. Shit my father doesn’t exist and my mother is a crack head. What kind of love can I possibly show her?
I finally got to Sandra’s apartment and no answer. Knocking on the door harder, frustration comes easy after walking for an hour to her side of town.
Quickly opening the door Sandra’s squeaky high pitch voice answered, “What! Oh, it’s you, about time. Hot water is off and I need to pay the bill.” she yelled
“What the fuck you mean the hot water is off. How the hell have you been giving Crystal a bath?”
“Boiling water on the stove and mixing it into the tub, don’t act like you don’t know, Alex. She alright, how much you got this time?”
“Here $450 make sure you buy her some new clothes . Last month I came here, her clothes looked too tight.”
“Whatever. She in the back room sleeping.”
I walked to the back stood by the doorway and looked at my beautiful little girl. At two years old she’s getting so big. She looks just like me, coco brown skin with a hint of cherry. That’s my baby girl. I picked her up gently, trying not to wake her she moaned a little. After I laid her head on my shoulder and rubbed her back. I sat down on the bed and watched TV as I rocked my daughter back to sleep. I only stayed at Sandra’s house for an hour and left. Even though Sandra was just a one night stand she is actually a pretty decent girl. I might be homeless sleeping from one friends couch to the next and even in cars a few nights. However, I still got around. Standing at 6’2, 165 pounds, six pack, straight teeth, and hazel brown eyes the ladies can’t resist, walking everywhere isn’t bad when I can pull the ladies like a drop of a dime. Plus ladies like a mystery man, being that they can’t keep up with me.
. . .
It’s been a couple of days since last time I checked in with Jess. Well two weeks exactly. I know she will be mad since we haven’t talked. But I’ve been hitting the streets hard selling to me a nice little cut. It skills and patient to make $2,000 in two weeks with all the competition and robbing going on among street dealers and then keep it cool like I'm not making money. Guys get suspicious when you start wearing Sean John, diamond earnings, and platinum rings so I give them nothing to pay attention to when I wear no jewelry. Plus, all I wear is Jessica’s dad old clothes and clothes from the homeless shelter. Man, I heard a big storm coming tonight so I need to make my way to Jessica’s house. It’s like clockwork when storms come she’s the only apartment I'm heading too.
Slightly tapping on the door, there’s no answer. Knocking a little louder, I'm praying she opens up the door with her aggressive little attitude about why I haven’t been around. Damn still no answer. Giving up on the front door, I walked back to her window knocking and whispering her name but yet no answer. As it starts to rain, I’m trying to hurry up and get inside before I catch a nasty cold with a cough and running nose again for being in the rain. Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder I was about to hit whoever it was behind me until I realize it was Jessica’s dad telling me to come inside out the rain before you catch a death of cold. Jogging with a small strut to the door I didn’t even care being lectured about knocking on his door late at night I was just happy being out the rain. I walked inside the house and it was a mess. Beer and alcohol bottles were everywhere, on the table, floor and even on the couch. The trashcan was overflowing the last thing I wanted to do is empty the trash and clean his mess for a nights rest. The house smelled like a garbage dump covered up with the aroma of beer and gin. Coughing from all the smells, I managed to asked.
“Where’s Jessica?”
Instantly, I knew something was wrong the moment he started crying and dropped to the floor. Anxiously I asked, “Where’s Jessica?”
“She’s gone! She's dead.” Sadly, he whispered.
“She’s what? When? How? Why am I just finding out?” shockingly I asked.
“I thought you knew? He shouted. All of the sudden Richard threw me to the wall and held me up by my shirt, shouting why you didn’t protect her from that bastard? What the Hell! That little punk killed my daughter!”
Before I knew it I was thrown on the other side of the room. Still trying to come into the reality of what he was saying. He punched me in the stomach four times and three times in the face. I managed to get up and push him off me.
“Wait a minute. You mean to tell me she’s dead! Who killed her?”
“Reggie! Stupid!” Richard screamed as he began to choke. “They found Jessica body in an alley. She was beaten and then raped. He’s in jail now. Where have your been. I thought y'all were friends. Jessica funeral was three days ago. I was tried looking for you but you like to disappear. I didn’t see you at your usual spots.” Damn I knew Reggie was locked up for hurting a girl but I didn’t know it was Jessica. He was fucking so many girls I just thought it was one of his other hoes. When my boy Slick was trying to tell me the little details about Reggie arrest, I told him to spare me the information. The less I knew about my customers the less drama I get mixed up in.
I don’t know how but I managed to loosen Richards grip around my neck and started grasping for air. Richard continued to shout.
“I trusted you She was the only person I had to give a damn about me and you didn’t look after her.”
Angry with the comments I pushed Richard hard against the wall and confessed.
“What is that suppose to mean? Don't blame me. You need to take some of the blame. I tried to protect her. I told her not to mess around with Reggie. That he was nothing but trouble. Plus where were you? You are her father? Not to mention you are her downfall. If it wasn’t for you controlling her life she would be in college away from all this stupid mess you had to offer. ”
Who are you? Talking to me like that! Your barley made it out of school selling drugs sleeping in my daughter room. I knew every time you were here. But I did not say anything because you were Jessica's best friend. I know I’m not a perfect father but damn I trusted you. And I know your not talking about me being a father Alex when was the last time you saw your daughter? You sorry Bastard!

Angrily I managed to punch Richard in his face and yelled Fuck you! I know I’m not a good father. At least I am not pretending to be a good father. I’m not in my daughter’s life because I don’t want to mess things up for her. I don't know how to love my daughter may parents show me any so called love and attention. I can't provide for myself, so how am to provide love and attention for my child All I know is the streets and what you showed me. You are a sorry excuse of a father trying to blame me for Jessica’s death when you use to beat on Jess for not being her mother. So, fuck you! Richard punched me twice once in the face and once in the stomach and roared. “I’m talking to your punk ass! I know I have problems. You’re right but I didn’t kill my daughter! Plus you loved Jess didn’t you. You would have done anything for her. Why can’t you show that same love to your daughter?
I started limping on my right side as all the bruises started to catch up with me. I realized that Richard was right. However, I stood straight up and looked Richard dead in his eyes and replied. “If you know so much why didn’t you show your own daughter?”
Richard balled up his fist ready to hit me again but instead he realized that he was I was right. Looking Richard up and down I continued by saying “At least I have the balls to admit that I’m not a good father.”
Pushing me towards the door Richard, screamed “Get out! And don’t ever come back.”
Looking at Richard I was about to say something else but I refused to get into another argument so I left without a word. Limping on my right side I started to walk towards the park down the street. Tears began to run down my face as I thought about Jess. She was the only person who wasted her time to give a damn about me, and now she’s gone. Damn, she was the only person who cared about what I was doing with my fucked up life and found the time to asked, if I was okay. Man the only person I ever trusted was now gone. Slowly walking up to the park I buried my face in tears and thought about how much Jessica meant the world to me. Slowly sitting down on the bench I began to have random thoughts about life and the purpose for me being here. Eventually, I began to have suicidal thoughts and was ready to end my life. But, right than I saw my daughter peaceful face on my shoulder.
Waking up with a bad headache I’m shocked to be surrounded by a group of people and hearing different conversations. Shaking my head trying to wake up completely I looked around trying to see what’s going on. Instantly, I knew it was one of those dumb community events that was about to start. Still dealing with Jessica’s death on my mind I’m just ready to blast my brains out and be done with life. I got up and walked towards the street away from the park. When all of the sudden I felt little arms around my leg and the most beautiful voice I ever heard said, “Daddy don’t leave me. Stay.” Slowly turning around I realized it was my daughter. Looking up I gently smiled as I saw Sandra in the distance. Obviously, she brought our daughter to the park to attend the free event. Looking back down into my daughter’s eyes I melted as I saw her big Mickey Mouse smile. I picked her up and embraced her with the biggest hug of my life. At this very moment, I knew I had a purpose. Looking at Sandra, as she looked at me bewildered about the sudden interest of my daughter‘s life. Softly I whispered, “I will never leave her.”

Taken by MFA Professional Writing Student Ashley Easton.
Accompanying travel essays in-progress!

Check out MFA Professional Writing student Ashley Easton's article showcasing local Atlanta craftspeople and artists on the Etsy blog.