Is Life Worth Becoming The Woman In Heels

By Compreca Martin

This novel is based on a true story. It is about the life of a young woman growing up in the North Suburbs of Chicago, IL. She shares her experiences from the 80's and describes in detail the challenges she faced as a teenager. The author explains how her path became inundated by several influential women and how each one helped her to become an

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cherishbooksbyccm
• Release date: Jun 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781087892474

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

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During the ’80s, people enjoyed life and lived happy. It was an era where people dressed how they wanted, did what they wanted, and didn’t care what anyone had to say. I remember seeing grown folks wearing afros, curls, and parachute pants. I wore dresses, jumpsuits, and one-piece short sets with three braided plats in my head.

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It was a big deal to wear two French braids, get hair beads, or hair pressing back then. I loved seeing the ladies wear jeans, half tops, hoop earrings, stacks, and lip gloss. During this era, some of my favorite songs were, ABC, The Double Dutch Bus, Love Come Down, White Horse, I Wonder if I Take You Home, Casanova, and I Wanna Dance with Somebody. The movies I loved during the ’80s was, The Last Dragon, Breakin’, Sixteen Candles, Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, and the list could go on. There were so many songs and good movies back then.

Growing up in Elgin, Illinois, was never a dull moment. It is a small suburb about 30 miles north of Chicago. The city of Chicago is known for its Sears Tower, sports, fashion, and good food. The population in Elgin was no more than 90,000 people. It was a town where everyone knew everyone, and it wasn’t uncommon to run into a friend or family member at a grocery store, a doctor’s office, or see them walking down the street. People even knew if you had a severe medical condition, lost your job, or had marital problems.

People rarely had disagreements, and if they did, the whole town knew about it. The neighbors would sit on their porch and watch folks walking past politely, saying, Hello, … while kids played in the streets or along the sidewalks. Little girls would play double dutch, and the boys would play marbles, basketball, or annoy the girls who were trying to twirl the rope. There were plenty of candy stores and ice cream trucks in the neighborhoods and kids hated to go inside.

We played ding dong ditch, hide and seek, and would sit on the porch or green machine and crack jokes when it got dark. You had to be from the mid-west to know what a green machine was. We barely knew what it was; we just loved to sit on them. Most of the kids would stay away from the elderly homes in the neighborhood because we knew they would pick up the phone and tell whoever answered what you were doing. They seemed to over-exaggerate things, which made it worse when you got home.

We were lucky if we made it home because most parents would be waiting on the porch with a belt, shoe, or a tree branch. A tree branch was called a switch. Boy, did those little tree branches hurt like hell. If you ever got hit with one, you would have a welt mark on your body. Kids in the neighborhood, including myself would hide behind the bushes and laugh if someone got a whooping with a switch. We would laugh so hard; we would almost pee our pants.

One time I was riding a bike down a busy street called Route 19, and my uncle James and his friend rode past with all the windows down, bumping The Thrill is Gone by B.B. King yelling, I’m gone tell mom you on this busy street. I knew I was getting a whipping. My facial expression dropped, and I was thinking, oh shit, I'm caught!" I went to my friend Kesha’s house, and I stayed over there until 6 o’clock that evening. I stayed as long as I could. 

I sat on Kesha’s porch, waiting for the rain to clear up, but it never did. It got worse; it started thunder storming and lighting. When it rained in Chicago, it poured for hours. I knew I was out of the clear for a while because my family was having a card party. All the grown folks loved to drink, talk crap, and play cards for money. They played spades, tunk, and pitty-pat. Pitty pat was also known as deuces wild. A game that could go on for hours whenever money was involved. I watched people lose their entire paycheck playing this game. The real gamblers would always have a side bet going, whether it was a high card, low card, or color pair.

The ones that didn’t play cards always went to the bingo halls or bars. When the rain finally stopped, I kept contemplating if I should go home. The storm had finally cleared up and the sun vaguely shined. Dark clouds and a half of a rainbow begin to fill the sky. I got up and started walking. The whole time I was walking home, my head was down, and I kept saying, Lord, please don’t let me get a whipping.  I walked up to the door, and my grandmother opened the door, and she said, Where the hell have you been? I said, I was at my friend’s house. She said, Do you know what time it is? I said, Yes. She said, James told me he saw you riding a bike down route 19. You might as well bring yo’ ass in this house. I’m gone tear yo’ ass up.

CHAPTER 1

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Popular Creek

Living in Popular Creek was never a dual moment. It was nicknamed, The Creek, much like apartment complexes with conjoined townhomes. It was a sub-development where tons of kids played from sunup to sundown. I would run to look out the window each morning to see if any kids were outside. When there were no kids outside, I would sit on the edge of my bed, waiting for breakfast. My house was always quiet. I could hear mama snoring from upstairs. My mama never woke up early, nor did she fix breakfast. She was always stretched out butt-naked on the couch from partying the night before.

A Caucasian family was living in our house, a husband, a wife, and three kids. They had one son and two girls. I never knew they were living there, until one morning, a little girl opened a bedroom door and said hi. I remember having on an over-sized white t-shirt with holes in it, just starring at the little girl wondering who she was. She opened the room door, and I saw the rest of her family. It was the weirdest thing.

I was wondering how these people fit into a little bedroom with just one big mattress and a ton of garbage bags.

Her mother said, Hi Compreca, and I smiled. I said, Hi, who are you? She said, I’m Miss Diane, and we are your mother’s friend are you hungry? I said, no and quickly ran back to a room where my brother Cory was sleeping. He was not as outgoing as me, but he had his moments. He was a year younger than me. Cory was short, dark-skinned, with ferret eyes. I closed the door, and I quickly woke him up. He awakened wondering where I had been. I told him about the family who lived in the other room, but he wasn’t interested. All he wanted to do was play outside. We had a daily routine. We would run downstairs and look in the fridge, and the only food ever there was a piece of bologna and a slice of cheese. We grabbed the bologna and cheese and ran outside to play. Neither one of us ate the food; we always fed the mice who lived in the gutter.

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In Illinois, there were gutters. Some people used them to store bikes or extra supplies, while others just watched the rain fill them up. Feeding the mice became a daily routine unless we had school. We would wait until we heard kids come outside screaming our names. We could hear them yell, Hey, Cory, hey, Preca. My nickname was Preca.

I had two friends named Brian and Jennie. Jennie was a Mexican girl who lived in the back of our house, and Brian was a fair-skinned boy who would play with us sometimes. Brian’s mom always laid crashed on her couch butt-naked and had the coolest red drop-top Corvette. I loved that car. I was not allowed to go on his block, so I would sneak. Seeing Jennie was not a problem because she lived across my backyard. We spent many days playing. Her grandmother baby sat her while her parents worked. Jennie’s grandmother was short, about 4 ft with long black and grey hair. She always wore it in a long braid that passed her waist. Occasionally, she would mop the floors yelling in Spanish, Andale, Andale, and we would laugh and run outside. I spent many days eating dinner with Jenny and not wanting to go home. Her family treated me as if I were their own. Her mother would say, Mejia, isn't it time for you to go home… I will watch you run back.

Although, Cory and I were only three and four years old, we were capable of taking care of ourselves, at least we thought we were. We would stay out until a family member would yell from down the street, Take yawl butts in the house, it’s getting dark! Cory yelled at an uncle and said, Take your bald-head ass back down the street!

We called him bald-head uncle James because he had very little hair on the sides and none on the top of his head. I had two uncles named James, and this was how we were able to distinguish between the two. Cory didn’t realize what he said, until he saw him quickly walking up the street. Cory took off running in the house, looking for somewhere to hide. Bald-head uncle James made his way up the hill. He yelled, Boy, don’t you ever talk to me like that! Mama said, James, he doesn’t know any better; don’t whip him. Uncle James went back down the street.

For the rest of the day, we stayed in the house. It started to rain, and thunderstorm and Mama made fried chicken with corn. My mom would yell upstairs to ask Mrs. Diane if she wanted some chicken. Mrs. Diane would say, no, we already ate Nene, but thanks. My mother went by the name of Nene. Some people called her Nita, Nene, Annette, or Anita

CHAPTER 2

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Mama

My mother was a gorgeous woman. She had the prettiest golden-brown skin and wore an afro and had the most beautiful smile even with her gap. She never liked wearing makeup, just Vaseline on her lips and eyebrows. If anyone mentioned makeup, she would laugh and say, I ain’t putting that shit on my face. Her laugh was poisonous, and no matter what, you were going to laugh with her. She had a shape out of this world and could dance for hours. I remember her telling me, Chiffon, which was my middle name, I’m moving to California to be on soul train. Although I would laugh, I believed her. She would twist her hips and pop her fingers for hours.

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Mama could put the best French braids in your head. I loved it when she would put two in mine. I witnessed her put triangles in someone's head. My Mama loved to have beer with salt and listen to music. Her favorite singers were the Jacksons. She loved the Jacksons so much; she started saying Jermaine Jackson was our dad. We never believed her; we just laughed. She believed she knew the entire Jackson family and where they lived. Most days, she would visit her best friend, who lived down the street while we played outside.

I remember walking to her friend's house, often looking for her. One afternoon, Mama went to visit her friend, and she found her stabbed to death. She later found out it was her best friend's boyfriend. I felt terrible for my mother; she cried for a while after finding her. Days went by, and Mama would stay in the house, except for when she had to walk my brother and me to the bus stop for school.

We loved pre-school. The bus would pick us up at 7:15 a.m. on the side of the house. We would walk ourselves to the bus stop, or someone from grandma's house would knock on the door to remind us if mom overslept. We went to pre-school in Streamwood, Illinois, about 15 miles from Elgin. I loved school, and I looked forward to getting on the bus each day.

One day after getting out of school, we all went to grandma's house. Grandma lived four houses down the street from us. We did not visit grandma much because Mama did not have the best relationship with her. There were a lot of arguments, and sometimes fistfights would occur between my mother, aunt, and uncles. I would always cry, and my feelings were always hurt. We would leave and walk home, and I would still be crying. My uncle Jerome would always break up the fights and walk us back home. Mama would say, Jerome don't worry; they gone get what they got coming to them.

Mommy would say, don't take yawl asses down to her house. We would sneak over there anyway to buy candy. Grandma had a candy store and she lived down the streets. After two months, Mama finally decided to visit grandma to see how things were going. It was a hot summer day, at least 85 degrees. I was happy to see them all talking again and not fist fighting. Mama was glad to see her brothers. She had eight living siblings; however, my grandmother gave birth to 17. My mother loved her family, regardless of their issues. They made up.

She would give them the shirt off her back and her last dollar. One morning, my mother was waiting on her check to come.  It was the first of the month. It was around 9 a.m., and we sat on the porch waiting for the mailman. We were anxious because it was a hot summer day, and we were ready to spend it. The mailman came at 11 o'clock, and momma had turned her back to do something. I grabbed her check from the mailbox, and I started running yelling, mama, I got yo' check. She ran after me saying, "Chiffon, get yo' ass back here girl with my check! I laughed so hard, and Mama started chasing me across the street. Next thing I knew, I had ran into a pole and busted my forehead. She grabbed me and held me while I cried. We rushed to grandma's house for help.

Grandma opened the door and said, stop all that hollering girl, you gone be alright. Blood was dripping down my forehead. Grandma yelled, Nene, what happened to this girl!  Mama said, she grabbed my check out the mailbox and took off running and ran into a damn pole. Grandma cleaned my forehead with some peroxide and put a band-aid on it, and then we walked home.

Things were quiet after that episode. I was sitting down the entire day. Three days had passed, I woke up early, looked for food, went outside, or to school. When I woke up and went downstairs to see if Mama was laying on the couch snoring. Mama was laying on the couch, naked with a man next to her. I ran back upstairs to tell Cory, but he was still asleep. I grabbed a black garbage bag and put all of my clothes in it and ran to grandma's house. When she opened the door, she said, what's wrong? Why you out here in this rain girl? I started crying. I said, I'm not going back home. Can I stay with you? My aunt ran downstairs to see what was going on. She said, Preca, what's wrong with you? I said, my mom is over there with a man. My aunt said, mom, if she doesn't want to go back over there; don't make her. I was only four years old. Grandma took the garbage bags and washed my clothes. She gave me a warm bath, and she made me a hot meal. It was so good. I couldn't remember the last time I had a hot meal. I slept like a baby at the end of the couch with my grandmother. She threw a white sheet over me. Later that day, my mother came knocking on the door looking for me. I was scared to go home. She said, is Chiffon here? Grandma said, yeah, she here. Nene what nigga you got over there this girl talking about she saw you laying on the couch with. My Mama said, oh, that wasn't nobody, Chiffon just too damn grown. If she doesn't want to come home, I won't argue. She can stay.

CHAPTER 3

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Grandma

The next few days were different because grandma made sure I got up on time for school. There was no skipping school and playing outside. Grandma watched me get on the bus and would look for Cory. Sometimes, Cory didn’t make it to school, or he would miss the bus because mama would oversleep. Every day grandma made sure I had on clean clothes. She didn’t know how to comb hair, she would always put the same three or four plats in my head. One up top and two in the back.

Grandma was a very attractive woman. She was a Cherokee Indian with fair red skin. Large built woman with nice legs, thighs, and butt. She was the up tome of a Southern woman. From the way, she carried herself, her style, and her outspoken demeanor. Fannie Mae was her name and I would always think of her as Fannie Mae’s candy. She was born and raised in Birmingham, AL.

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She had a lot of friends who loved to come to her house to party and play cards. I was enjoying the atmosphere, and meeting my cousins was the best. Grandma had a lot of people who loved her. It was always a packed house. Sometimes other people's kids would be living there too. When it came to feeding people and making sure they were safe, she had no problem helping them.

One day, the preschool contacted grandma