I was speechless. How could I go home to my mother with this? What a disgrace! I would be bringing embarrassment to the family that had sacrificed so much to ensure that I had a decent upbringing and the opportunity to come to the United States. I could just see the disgust in my father’s eyes. Still, I doubted if Shaunté was telling the truth; it was probably just a ruse to get me to visit.
Seeking closure, I returned to her neighborhood to end the harassment. Shaunté called my bluff and dared me to take her to the pharmacy to get a pregnancy test. No matter how hard I tried, I could not shake the slim possibility that the baby could be mine - if Shaunté was telling the truth. After a few minutes in the bathroom, Shaunté returned with the result - a positive sign in vivid red! My worst fears had come true.
I was scared, confused, and did not know what to do next. Sensing a switch in the power struggle, Shaunté complained about her ill health and her inability to make the grocery trip that day. She blamed her condition on me, so I went to the grocery store and bought everything from diapers to ground beef – along with some liquor to settle my wayward mind.
Through the next week, my time was Shaunté’s time. She complained incessantly about her illness, calling me as soon as I got off work with a list of what she needed. I bought her a new boom box, a new television, and did her groceries. Even her neighbors enjoyed having me around. Often, I bought beer and cigarettes for Sheila and Mika. They were nice people, despite their circumstances
After a week had gone by, Shaunté asked if I was ready for a child. I told her all the reasons why I was not, including being on the verge of deportation. I explained that I could not support the child from Africa. Without financial support, Shaunté grudgingly told me that she would need five hundred dollars for an abortion. I withdrew the money with my credit card and gave it to her the following day. Even if things went as planned, I knew I would remain in penance for the rest of my life because of my religious upbringing.
A few days before Shaunté appointment, my boss scheduled me for a trip to Chicago. I was living on borrowed time at work so I was not about to weasel out of my assignments. I had never visited Chicago, but my father had told me about a distant aunt who had moved there from Ghana. It was important to convince Shaunté that it was a legitimate business trip, so I showed her my travel itinerary. I did not know that she had a photographic memory. She glanced at the travel itinerary and settled down as if she had finally found something she had been looking for.
Upon my return, Shaunté was in a foul mood. She claimed that her brother had been thrown in jail and she had used the money to bail him out. Who was this brother I never heard about before? I collapsed in her living room chair out of frustration and emotional exhaustion. I realized that no matter how accommodating I tried to be, this barracuda would never do what she promised. I was convinced that Shaunté would have the baby. She kept reminding me that we would be murdering our child if she had an abortion. The moral and mental burden was too much for me. I acquiesced and left for my apartment where I could find some peace once I had unplugged the phone.
At my apartment, I was surprised to find an urgent message on my answering machine from my distant aunt Esi, who lived in Chicago. Did she know that I had been in town? When I called, her first question was, “Who is Shaunté-Monique?” I was mortified. Shaunté had called the Chicago information and asked for Mr. Asamane. The only number listed under such a unique last name was Esi’s, my father’s relative. Suspecting that I was married with another family in Chicago, Shaunté called the number and asked for Kwesi Asamane.
Because we were hardly in touch with each other, Aunt Esi thought first about my father, the senior Kwesi Asamane. When Shaunté was told that Mr. Asamane was in Ghana, she asked for the phone number to Ghana. Aunt Esi decided not to give the unfamiliar caller anymore information. She had figured that it was the junior Kwesi Asamane who was at the root of all the confusion.
In all my wildest dreams, I did not think anyone could be so cunning and mean. Aunt Esi said Shaunté kept calling her house over and over again. I did not have answers to the questions I was being asked. “Who is this woman? What is she to you? Why is she doing this to you? What did you do to her? I felt my life was over now that I had disgraced my family. Though I tried to assure my aunt that I would handle the situation, she was not convinced. She advised me to stay away from foreign women.
I called Shaunté immediately. This time, I was also red-hot mad and demanded to know why she was harassing my family. She stubbornly stuck to her initial conviction that Esi was my wife from Africa, claiming that she knew everything about Africans and polygamy! This woman was insane. I hung up the phone and hunched my shoulders in defeat. I was about to have a child by a crazy hoochie mama from the hood. I was too tired to fight anymore; I needed some time to recoup.
I went through the motions of work like a zombie. I was miserable. I tried to work through my voice mail because Shaunté began to call several times every hour. I could lose my job if they knew I had turned off the ringer, but talking to this irrational person was too upsetting. By now, I believed that the risk involved equaled the headache I avoided by not talking. Even so, it was not effective for long. Shaunté began asking friends to leave deceptive messages to frustrate me when I called back to find her on the phone.
When the calls stopped for about a week, I thought the message had finally gotten through and turned the ringer back on. Then one afternoon, the phone rang at lunchtime, “Mr. Asamane, this is Gittannes security, we have a Miss Shaunté-Monique here to see you about a personnel appointment!” I was jolted right out of the seat - Shaunté at my work place? I was sure I would lose my job because she was not there to be cordial. My reputation would be irreparably ruined and I would be fired. Work-place violence had become rampant, and Shaunté could be carrying a weapon to exact irrational punishment
Fortunately, Gittannes security guards were highly trained. The officer wanted to verify Shaunté’s claim before giving her directions to my office. When I told him that the appointment was fabricated, Shaunté was escorted off the grounds and warned that she would be arrested if she returned.
I no longer knew what the woman wanted. I thought that by agreeing to have the child, Shaunté would become more reasonable but it seemed to have the opposite effect. The situation was bordering on “Fatal Attraction.” I had been with this woman once and now I was being held hostage to all her whimsical needs. I had a bad feeling that, just as in the movie, this would not end well. Each time I entered a parking lot, I expected Shaunté to pounce from nowhere.
All I could do was pray for deliverance from God. But did I expect any mercy from God after I had sinned so much? A few days later, Aunt Esi called again. Shaunté was demanding my father’s phone number in Ghana to inform him that she was expecting his grandchild. Aunt Esi thought this was serious and informed my parents. Now everyone in my family knew about the whole matter. I could only suffer in silence.
For the first time in my life, I wished I could cry or scream, if it would make me feel better. Things had gone too far and I could not deal with Shaunté anymore. My mind kept conjuring ingenious images of how I could hurt her. I surprised myself with my horrific thoughts. “Am I going mad as well?” I thought as I realized I was losing control of my wandering mind. I had been pushed past caring. I was fed–up and ready to have it out with Shaunté at any cost.
I arrived at her house amid screeching brakes, a cloud of smoke, and the smell of burning rubber. As I raised my hands to bang at the door, Mika’s familiar voice said, “she doesn’t live here anymore,’ the ‘bitch’ got kicked out.” Shaunté had won again. I did not even know where my tormentor lived any longer.
Shaunté had been evicted because she had started a fight with Sheila and had broken her window. “Why does a nice guy like you bother with a crazy girl like that anyway?” Sheila asked. I shook my head and I turned to leave when Mika called me back. She had something to tell me, but she said Shaunté had always prevented us from having a private moment. She asked why I was looking for Shaunté-Monique. When I told them about Shaunté’s pregnancy, both girls started laughing their hearts out. Mika was now heavy with her third child so she sat down to regain her composure. Sheila kept saying, “We’ve got to tell him, we’ve just got to tell him!”
Between giggles, Mika assured me that Shaunté was not pregnant. She said if she had known I was so kind, she would never have helped Shaunté with her devious scheme. The urine sample Shaunté used for the test was hers. She had left it in the bathroom while we went to the pharmacy to buy the test kit. Mika was two months pregnant then and needed the fifty dollars she was promised. Mika never received any money. When I mentioned I had given Shaunté five hundred dollars, the girls looked at each other and shook their heads. They each produced plastic welfare cards for a health program that provided assistance to discourage women in their situation from having any more children. Shaunté had a similar card so she had played me for the money, gifts, and groceries.
Even so, I felt a heavy burden lift off my shoulders. I pulled out my wallet, and emptied my money into Mika and Sheila’s hands. They did not want it, but I insisted “You have no idea what you’ve done for me today.” My faith in being kind to people had been restored, and for the first time in months, I could see light at the end of a very dark tunnel. Such wickedness could not survive at the expense of good people.
The next time Shaunté called, I was civil. She had found out that I had spoken to her former neighbors and confessed to masterminding the deception. She claimed she had wanted to get back at me for ignoring her and got carried away by the nice things I had bought for her. As a truce, she offered to take the test again to assure me that she was being truthful.
I watched her take the sample - it was negative. Then I walked out of the bathroom without a second glance. Even Shaunté knew the charade was over. As I passed the main door, I heard her say; “You could marry me and stay in America.” I stopped and turned to stare. Who is this person? Doesn’t she give up? Or doesn’t she understand that certain things cannot be undone? I shot her a look that said, “I would rather be deported!”
Now I had my own horror story. I thanked God that it ended the way it did. I could only blame myself because, for a while, I had forgotten who I was, and the basic tenets of my upbringing. I had tried to use someone for my personal gain – and it had almost cost me everything I had worked so hard to achieve.
How could I point a finger at Shaunté-Monique when I was guilty of the same transgression? Although misguided, she was only looking out for herself in a mean and selfish world. What I knew was, to always follow my basic instincts and treat people with respect and kindness. Had it not been for Mika and Sheila, things could have been different. I was reminded of William Shakespeare’s poem in the Merchant of Venice, “All that glitters is not gold.” My lesson was simple: “Leave the hoochie mamas alone!”
