On the average toothbrush, there are two thousand five hundred bristles. Each bristle is picked, folded in half by a specific tool, and bonded into a bunch by the wrapping of wires around their folds. A toothbrush is typically used for teeth brushing, but in my grandmother's household, it is used for cleaning other things as well. When scrubbing those small spaces you can't get to with a sponge or towel, you would use a toothbrush. Or when facing punishment for something, the toothbrush can be used to clean larger surfaces. Each bristle on a toothbrush accumulates residue and grime over time as it is pushed or forced upon the surface it is intended to clean.
I am kneeled on the tiles of our kitchen floor and each bristle of the worn toothbrush in my grasp accumulates more residue and grime as I scrub each tile. During my cleaning, I think about how I am like a bristle on a used toothbrush. I have been picked, folded in half, and bent by the weight of society's expectations and judgment. Then bunched into a group of other young girls just like me and wrapped with the stigma of irresponsibility and a lack of purity and innocence. As I am pushed to consider "all of my options" and realize what I have done is wrong, I wonder what surface I am intended to clean? If I decided not to keep the baby developing inside of me, whose image am I restoring?
"I can't believe this has happened. After all I've tried to teach you and warn you about, you fail to do what is right." My grandmother's voice shook with disappointment as she spoke. Her words were cold and thrown at me like daggers.
Right, as in morally good, justified, or acceptable. I can't count the number of times since my pregnancy was revealed, that I've heard the word Unacceptable. Whether it be from the older ladies who smell of jasmine and wear large hats with feathers to Sunday Service or a murmur from a stranger on the street. Everyone seems to think that what I have done is neither right nor acceptable, but I can't seem to place how I feel.
"You're just like your mother and your sister. Had I known you'd turn out like this, I would have let her raise you since the outcome wouldn't have been any different." With those final words, her slippers shuffled out of my view as she exited the room, a piece of thread on her worn slippers, slowly trailing behind as it loosened.
I used to love getting out of the house, now it's what I dread the most. The constant stares and whispers from those of our small town, who have watched me sing and praise dance up the aisle of our church, can't believe the girl that stands before them now. As I shop for my grandmother's groceries, my stomach poked out and my back aching, their whispers reach my ears. They say some of the most hurtful things: How can someone so full of the Holy Spirit carry such a poisonous seed? Or her body is too small to bear a healthy child.
I always believed that any child, no matter how it was conceived, is a blessing, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe I have done the unforgivable. If I have this baby... there's no going back.
"Nala?" A familiar voice snaps me out of my trance, and my eyes go from the bruised tomato in my hand to a pair of dark brown eyes that are just like mine.
Naiema's eyes roam over my face as if she's trying to familiarize herself with a past and younger version of me that she once knew. In her gaze, she takes notice of my stomach, and her expression goes from shock to a look of empathy.
"How is she treating you?" she asked, raising her thick eyebrow and taking the poor tomato from my hand, putting it back on the pile and grabbing another one, a healthier one.
"Grandma?" I asked, receiving the tomato and placing it into the plastic fruit and vegetable bag.
"Yes, Gloria." Naiema nodded, calling our grandmother by her first name as she walked alongside me. The wheels of the cart I pushed slightly squeaking over the shiny floors of the supermarket and the wet floor sign were a clear reminder that the staff just mopped.
Their floors are no competition to how well I cleaned our floors at home.
"How many things has she made you clean? Is she making you read the bible from beginning to end and telling you how much of a disappointment you are?" Naiema questioned, grabbing the next thing on my list, without even looking at it.
How does she know what's on the list? How does she know how our grandmother has been treating me?
Noticing I hadn't responded to her, Naiema looked over at my face and grew a small smile. "Don't look so shocked little sister." She spoke with such gentleness and warmth. Something I wasn't used to.
As we continued to walk through the supermarket, she grabbed every item that was left on the list, without having to ask me what I needed.
As she shopped for me, the wheels in my mind began to turn and I recalled what my grandmother had said a few days ago: "You're just like your mother and your sister." That explains how Naiema is so familiar with the forms of punishment our grandmother is using, and the items on her grocery list. She must have been in a position just like me.
"What did you do?" I asked, watching Naiema place the items onto the conveyor belt of the checkout counter.
She looked at me with confusion until what I was asking clicked in her mind. "The same thing as you..." Her response was almost shameful, but just as fast as she'd said it, she straightened her back and looked at me straight on.
"But, if you did the same thing as me where's the baby?" The question left my mouth before I could think about how it'd affect her. I let my curiosity take over before I considerered the feelings she may have pushed down deep within her. Or the reality she has to face every day.
Her facial expression was cold and almost stonelike, but her dark brown eyes welled with tears.
"There is no baby." She whispered, her voice barely audible as a lone tear traced its way down her brown cheek.
She has cheeks just like mine, brown and chubby with a slight rosy tint. As I reached forward and wiped away the tear from her face, in the middle of the supermarket, I thought about our mother. I wonder if she looks anything like we do, and I realize that Naiema and our grandmother are the closest faces I'll ever have to seeing her.
After gently removing my hand from her face and giving it a reassuring squeeze, Naiema apologized kindly to the store clerk for our dramatics before paying for our grandmother's groceries. She made it clear that she didn't pay as a good deed for Gloria, but so I could pocket the money I was sent with.
She even went as far as insisting that she drive me home and load the groceries into her car while I patiently waited in the driver's seat. She couldn't believe that I was sixteen and had never practiced driving before.
After driving over a couple of curbs, almost running two red lights and several hard breaks, the end of the ride was a bit smoother as we approached our grandma's house.
Naiema stared out of the passenger window, her eyes slightly squinting as she cleared her throat before looking away. "This place brings back bad memories." She said as she unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car to grab the groceries.
As soon as I got out of the car, our grandmother came and stood on the porch, her expression full of disgust and disparagement as Naiema handed me the groceries, knowing she wasn't welcome to step foot inside of the house.
Once I had all of the groceries in hand, Naiema looked at me with eyes full of admiration and care. "You take care of yourself in there, and if you want to keep your baby, don't let anyone talk you out of it. You understand?" She sternly spoke, and I nodded feverishly.
"Never think you don't have anywhere else to go. My home is always open to you." Once she was done speaking, she discreetly slid a piece of paper into my pocket, before wrapping me in a gentle hug. Although I couldn't return the favor due to my hands being full, I hope she could feel my heart syncing with her own.
"Nala, it's time to come inside now." Our grandmother called, her voice carrying across the grand yard.
After that day, I hadn't heard from or seen Naiema again.
My belly was only getting bigger, and I found myself becoming more attached to the growing baby inside of me. The small kicks I felt when lying down a certain way and the sound of the heartbeat at my doctor's appointments warmed my heart.
Unfortunately, as my heart warmed, my grandmothers grew colder. She became increasingly demanding, pushing me to decide what I wanted before it was too late, and I was afraid that what I wanted wouldn't be what she wanted to hear.
One evening, we were supposed to be on our way to Sunday Service but were on the other side of town. There was a sinking feeling settling in my chest, and every time I rubbed my belly for comfort, my grandmother would frown, pressing her foot on the gas.
The sign on the building we parked in front of read Planned Parenthood, and I looked at my grandmother, confused. I had already had my doctor's appointment for this term, so I wasn't sure why we were here.
"I am tired of this playing around you're doing. You are a child, so I don't know why I gave you an option in the first place." Her words made my heart sink completely.
"What do you mean?" I questioned. "Grandma why are we here?"
She unbuckled her seatbelt and grabbed her purse. "You're getting rid of that thing today. You will return to school once you're healed, and you will not let anything like this happen again!" She spoke sternly.
"I will not!" I retorted as my head shook feverishly.
"I have had enough of this nonsense! I knew Naiema would get into your ear and invite you to her little pity party. I saved her life, and I am trying to save yours! You will listen to me Nala!" My grandmother yelled, and I continued to shake my head, tears streaming down my cheeks.
My cheeks, just like my sister'sâbrown, chubby, and rosyâtrembled as my tears fell for the same reason hers had, because of the same person who had hurt her.
"Have you ever wondered why I'm so against this, Nala?" My grandmother's voice was softer, gentlerâtired now.
I finally took a good look into her eyes and realized hers had filled with tears too. I shook my head. I had never taken a deep thought about why I had never seen my mother, or why my older sister couldn't come around, and why my grandmother was so adamant about keeping things that way and keeping me from being anything like them.
"They hadn't just done the same thing as you, but the same thing as me." Her confession made my eyebrows furrow, but she didn't stop speaking. "I supported your mother through the same mistake twice because I understood how difficult it was to raise a child alone at that age." She sighed, looking away from me.
"The second time around is what scarred me for life. After several hours of rough labor, I left the hospital with a young Naiema, a newborn baby and a funeral to plan." As she spoke, I no longer just saw my grandmother, I was beginning to see Gloria.
Gloria is an imperfect womanâa woman who has endured unimaginable hurt and pain but also caused those around her to suffer because of her hardened heart.
Gloria, my mother, Naiema and I are all like bristles on a used toothbrush. We've been picked, folded in half, and bent by the heavy burdens of hurt, failed expectations and harsh judgment. Weve been bunched into a group of other women just like us and wrapped with the stigmas of cold-heartedness, regret, ruined potential, and the weight of generational trauma.
From that day on, I never looked at my family the same way. I developed a deeper understanding of everyone and why they were the way they were.
Though it struck immense fear in her heart, my grandmother came around to support me as she had intended to support my mother, and as she wished she had for Naiema.
Wounds don't close overnight, but while I awaited the arrival of my baby in the hospital, my grandmother and Naiema came together to comfort not only me but each other as well.
This is where the reign of darkness over my family ends and the light begins.
___________________________
Hi Everyone!
This work was a short story assignment that I decided to share with all of you!
If you would like me to expand on the story of this family and how they navigate through their lives with this newfound light, please let me know!
thanks for reading <3
- LaDonna