About Me

Holli Allen lay shivering, her mass of chestnut-colored hair matted to the surgical table. Small-boned and pale, she appeared almost iridescent under the bright lights with her lifeless legs etched into the cold stirrups. The thready remains of her hospital gown was soaked through, and Holli’s breath, now visible against the sterile air of the delivery room, forced her to fantasize about house fires and burning in hell. Despite the melee unfolding around her, Holli tried to focus her emerald-colored eyes on the large black hands of the pre-scripted clock that seemed to tick softly into eternity.

In an epiduric daze, Holli’s mind could barely make out the ranting of the on-call nurse.

"Can’t they fix the damn heat?" The portly nursed screamed to no one in particular. She looked down again at Holli’s heart-shaped face. "Breathe honey, breathe." Then she looked up at the "theys" again. "Bastards ... the nerve of them calling me in on my one night off." Down. "You’re doing good honey. Can somebody go get some more warm blankets?" Up. "...Got to work like I’m outside in the damn snow." Down. "Come on sweetie, one more push." Up. "...Baby’s going to be born with icicles hanging off it’s ass." Down. "That’s it one more. I see the head."

No, I can’t push again. Not one more time. But, the need to bear down arose again.

"It’s a girl, Ms. Allen." The nurse said. "Oh, she looks like a little Indian baby."

A girl. Damn. Twenty-three hours of labor could make even the strongest of hearts grow cold. Maybe that’s why her daughter’s first cry sounded more like a shrill, as she finally escaped from Holli’s womb. High-pitched and unrelenting, the sound seemed to signal an abrupt halt to the nine-month relationship rocky from conception - the post-coital climax of swollen ankles, heartburn and backache that had left Holli tossing endlessly night after night.

She named her Kasha, right then, and then she sighed, the weight of having to raise her half-black daughter heavy on her mind. When Holli was finally allowed to shower, the near scalding water did little to ease her mind and soak away the dread that crept inside her now empty uterus. Holli knew the world wasn’t ready for them, and they weren’t ready for each other. So it was not surprising when, later, freshly showered and alone in her semi-private room, she cried out, "She hates me." Then she knelt down on the cold tile beside the bed, her backside visible in the flimsy gown, and proceeded to do something she hadn’t done since she was a child - she prayed.

Months earlier, Holli had tried to pray. The time her father had cursed her, slapped and spit on her, and then threw her out of his house in North Kansas City for being pregnant "with a black bastard," or was that "by a black bastard"? Sometimes, situations in her life made it hard to believe in any God.

This time though, Holli prayed hard. She prayed loudly in her head, hoping that God, or any other higher being for that matter, would help her bear her cross.

"Lord," Holli said, immediately wanting her next dosage of pain medication. "Make her love me as much I want to love her. I promise to do my best to be a good mother, and I will make us a family. Thank you."

She kept her eyes closed, hoping for a sign. But the only thing she heard was the squeaking wheelchairs and gurneys in the hallway. The prayer complete, Holli arose with a newfound earnestness. She buzzed to have the nurse bring Kasha in from the nursery, and for more medication. The eagerness soon diminished when Kasha would not stop crying and refused her breast. She became more irritated as Kasha began placing her mouth on the black nurse’s ample bosom, making a desperate sucking motion. The embarrassed nurse hugged the baby protectively and insisted that Holli get some rest. Holli just swallowed the pills the nurse handed her and nodded meekly. As the nurse rolled the baby away for the second time that night, Kasha’s brown eyes opened briefly and she glanced at Holli through the incubator. Holli turned away.

Day two at the hospital brought little relief as Holli opened her tired morning eyes and arched her aching body in the cold Midwestern air seeping into the hospital curtains. At first startled by the shadow at her bedside, she smiled when her eyes focused in on Charles. In the morning light, Charles Matthews looked like he’d just made a killing at the pool hall. Charles’ carefully pressed rayon shirt and corduroy bell bottoms did little to conceal the curves and ripples of his tall dark and muscular frame. Charles eased off his leather hat revealing his freshly trimmed afro and sideburns. The motion wafted the aroma of his expensive aftershave, and it permeated the strong smell of the room’s medical-grade cleansers. He sucked on a toothpick with the left side of his full mouth while the other side managed to smile at her at the same time. His too-white crowns twisted Holli’s heart harder into a confused knot of lust, love, hatred and curiosity. But, her anger was still in tow.

"Where were you?" Holli asked. She hoped to hear something different then his usual barrage of excuses. "I had no way of calling you when I left the apartment, but you knew I would go into labor any day. YOU KNEW!"

"Hey, relax. Don’t get all upset over nothing now." Charles backed away from her bedside. "I’m here now, ain’t I? I told you I had some errands to run, and I’d be away for a few days. Things just took a little longer then I thought. And I did go over to your crib. Maria said you’d already gotten on the bus for the hospital. You could have waited. I would have driven you myself."

"Waited ... I was in labor, dammit." Holli said, incensed. "How long should I have waited, Charles? Huh? I waited up almost half the night for you when it was time, screaming from the pain alone. Where were you, Charles? Were you with your wife?" Holli shot him a look that immediately put Charles on the defensive.

"Hey, leave Edwina out of this. I told you ... in my own time. This ain’t nothing I can do by the seat of my pants."

"Maybe if you kept them on long enough..."

"Shit woman. I didn’t come here to be insulted. Let me just get out of here." Charles said, feigning anger. His voice deepened an octave, almost on instinct. He was nonchalant about most things where women were concerned. He turned around, preparing to make his grand exit, pausing for dramatic effect as he grabbed a hold of the door handle.

Holli’s eyes threatened fresh tears. "No, don’t go." She whimpered. "Have you seen her? I named her Kasha Marie. She is so perfect, although I thought she’d have a bit more color ... dark as you are."

"Kasha’s nice." Charles said as she absentmindedly began twirling a toothpick around in his mouth. He feigned a laugh - shielding his pride. Kasha was his second girl and third child - that he knew of. Yea, I’m definitely not firing blanks, he reasoned.

"Charles, whatever happens between you and me. Whatever mess we’ve made of our lives. I always want you to love her." Holli cleared her throat, wanting to get her point across. She paused, reflecting on her next choice of words. "Don’t ever not love her. Not ever. Even if she calls you out of your name one day, or breaks your heart. A girl ain’t nothing without her father’s love. My love is important, and damn if that ain’t scaring the shit out of me enough as it is. But, your love ... your love is going to be her saving grace, or the scar she carries for life."

Charles lowered his eyes, avoiding her gaze. For a fraction of a second, he felt humbled.

"What you talking about girl?" He said. "I think them drugs they gave you still floating around in your head or something. Anyway, what your pale ass know about being dark-skinned?" Charles asked, a bit too defensively. He started walking over to the room’s sole window - anything to avoid looking into her eyes. The eyes that threatened his manhood and his black pride.

"Yea, I seen her. Too bad she’s not a boy, huh?" Charles wanted to move their conversation in another direction.

Holli silently cursed the single tear that escaped from her pre-moistened eyes. In less then two minutes, Charles had brought out every insecurity she had about their situation. She wanted him gone. She wanted him to be hers forever.

"Look, I can’t stay long," Charles said, already backing away toward the door. "I just thought I’d drop by and see how you were. I promise to come pick you up when you get out in a few days. See ya’ later."

Against his better judgement, Charles quickly turned around to give Holli an obligatory kiss on the forehead. What else was he supposed to say to his white mistress who’d just given birth to his daughter?

Holli didn’t respond to his abruptness. She just barely caught a glimpse of his untucked striped shirt dangling beside his stocky frame as he wisped through the door of her hospital room. That night, Holli never buzzed to have Kasha brought in from the nursery.

The day of the discharge, and there was no sight of Charles. After a few hours, Holli could no longer stand the sideways glances and whispers of the curious nurses at the nearby nurses station. She took off her thrift store coat, that she’d purchased for seventy-five cents, bundled Kasha inside the seams and headed outside for the bus stop. While Kasha wailed, Holli tried to ignore the cold wind and the snow topping above her silver lame moon boots. How long until the Linwood bus comes, she wondered? She had no bus schedule, and being on the other side of the state line, Holli knew it would be at least an hour before she made it home. Holli wanted to cry again, but it was too cold. God could be so cruel sometimes, she thought. So cruel.

The giant metro bus made its way slowly through the snow and slush and came to a screeching halt where Holli stood, numb from her head to her toes, but still holding tight to her newborn daughter. Bent over and shivering, she looked more like a young girl instead of the twenty-year-old woman that she was. Holli could barely lift her feet up to the steps to board the bus, her feet were beyond frostbitten. She had no idea how long she’d been waiting outside in the cold. However, she did have a new concept of time for every minute seemed like hours when dealing with a newborn. Her breasts were painfully engorged and her shirt stained through from the leakage. Kasha had devoured the one bottle Holli had made before she left the hospital. Now, she was crying at an even higher pitch because she could not get any milk from Holli’s frozen nipple. Frazzled, Holli mixed a corner of the formula left over in the bottle with some tightly packed snow before she boarded th bus. As the doors closed behind her, she waited for the snow inside the bottle to melt, then she plunged it into Kasha’s mouth. Kasha arched her hands forward and made one last gigantic sucking motion, gratefully accepting the bottle.

Holli was grateful too. Grateful to be the only passenger on the bus. She was grateful for the warmth blowing from the bus’s vent as it warmed her toes. She was grateful that Kasha had finally drifted off to sleep - and even more so when the portly bus driver offered her some hot coffee from his thermos. Holli allowed the hot liquid in the paper cup to burn her tongue almost raw. With every sip, she cursed Charles. She pressed her head against the window, watched the snow fall, and allowed her thoughts to drift back.

When Holli had first met Charles almost a year ago, she’d been so sure of his love for her. It didn’t matter that he had a reputation as a hustler and a ladies man. It also didn’t matter that he was married to his second wife. Charles’ darkness both intrigued and excited Holli, and she erased the fact that he had two children from her mind. That part was easy because Charles never mentioned his children. All Holli knew was that Charles made her feel like she belonged somewhere. Like she was the right and he was the now. However, their combination was turning out all wrong, starting around the same time his womanizing ways first became apparent. But, in the back of her mind, Holli thought that Charles would treat her, a white woman, better than the others. This thought shamed her greatly.

Holli knew his wife, Edwina, knew about them. How could she not? All those nights away, the prank phone calls, the unsigned letters and passion marks, and the strategically placed lipstick on his shirts. Charles had told her that he would leave Edwina when the time was right, but exactly whose time - his, hers, or Edwina’s? Watching the snow fall was having a sedative effect on Holli. Exhausted, Holli fell into a slumber of heartache. She didn’t notice Kasha’s only bottle as it fell from her still cold fingertips and rolled toward the back of the bus.