Glitz

by Philana Marie Boles

  “Gramma,” I said, “I’m okay. And I’ll be home soon. Okay?”

  “What!” she shouted. “You think you can just tell me when you’ll be home? You’ve missed two days of school. Child, I’m embarrassed to even ask people to pray for you. You know what that’s like having to go before an entire congregation and have to report that your grandchild has become an idiot? Tell me where you are right now. I’m coming to get you. You’re going to school tomorrow!”

  I sighed.

  Gramma continued, “Oh, if I could just snatch you through this phone I would wring your neck! I told you that girl was trouble! I shoulda rebuked her the first time I laid eyes on her. Your mother and your father—rest their blessed souls—would be so hurt, you out there acting like this. Like you don’t have home training. I’m gonna snatch you when I see you! Promise you that!”

  I fell back on the bed and groaned.

  Gramma spoke through her teeth. “All my life . . . All I’ve sacrificed for you . . .”

  “Gram—”

  “Naw, naw. You need to hear this. I’ve bended and folded every part of my soul just to pick up where your mama and your daddy couldn’t—God rest their blessed souls—and this is what I get?”

  Then she shrieked, “Lord! Why? . . . Why? . . . Father, whyyy? . . .”

  I could hear her crying, and this choked me a bit. “Gramma . . . Gramma please don’t cry.”

  Raq walked back and forth, sucking her teeth and rolling her eyes. She gulped a generous amount of the ginger ale she had gotten from the vending machine as I was talking.

  “Really,” I said, “Gramma, I don’t think you should be so upset. I’m okay . . .”

  She sniffed and her voice sounded drained. “Goodness. Gracious. For the love of God—”

  “Gramma,” I said, “I’ll call you—”

  “Call me!” she shouted.

  My head throbbing with tension now, I said, “Gramma, I can’t . . .”

  “Can’t? You must be rabbit mad, child. Telling me what you can’t do.”

  My knuckles began making impatient music on the nightstand. Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap. “Gramma,” I said after a few more taps, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “What do you mean, you’ll call me to—”

  I pushed END on the phone and tossed it onto the bed, wondering why I’d even bothered answering it in the first place. It hadn’t done any good. Maybe what I really needed to do was keep stepping and never look back. For the rest of my life she was going to keep fussing and trying to control me. Life had to be better than this.

  After snatching the phone from the bed, Raq fumbled around with the buttons and dialed on speaker. A ripple of relief passed over her face as someone finally answered on the other end.

  “Yo . . .”

  She had his phone number now! Since when? I couldn’t believe it.

  “What’s up, Piper!” Raq took a breath. “We were starting to worry.”

  “Hold on a second,” he said. It was hard to understand what he was saying to someone else, but we could hear his voice and other voices, too. And I could see rage brewing in Raq’s eyes.

  What would happen to us if Gee and Piper just left us here?

  What if they were sick of us and were somewhere rolling with the two blonde chicks they’d met at the mall?

  Finally, Gee got on the phone. “Whaddup?”

  “My quesadilla burger, fool,” Raq quipped. “That’s what’s up.”

  Gee laughed. “My bad, ma. Mun got us linked on that Millionaire tour starting next week. Over here at Kinko’s, waitin’ on a fax, tryna see it official.”

  Raq’s face softened. “For real? That’s tight.”

  “Yeah . . . So, be easy. We’ll be there in a few.”

  “All right, then,” she said. “Cool.”

  Raq hung up and looked at me, wide-eyed and ready to scream. “Did you hear that!”

  “Whoa,” I said.

  “Piper’s really about to explode.”

  “To say the least . . .”

  “We gotta stay in with him.”

  “Whip-tee,” I said. “Maybe I should use your phone again? Let Gramma know I’m going on tour now. . . .” I looked away. Inside I was on the verge of crying. Of course I wanted to go on tour with Piper, too. But what Gramma had told me about the money Raq stole from the Ramirezes, and the stolen credit cards, too . . . I hated to admit—I couldn’t admit—but this wasn’t feeling so cool. And wow. Raq might get to go on tour with Piper and Gee and Millionaire Mal while I stayed home with Gramma tucking me in at night. “Chica,” she sounded as if she pitied me. “You’re not gonna live your whole life for her. Don’t even sweat it.”

  “I know . . .”

  “Didn’t I tell you . . . As long as you let her hear your voice, she’ll stay in check? That’s all you gotta do. Gramma, I’m fine. And then hang up. She doesn’t have to know where you are or when you’re coming home. All that fussing she does is bluff. She’ll say anything to make you hate me.”

  “Bluff? Raq! You have no idea. She’s really upset.”

  And then, out of the blue, she said, “Gee is so annoying.”

  “Huh?” I literally looked around to see where our conversation had landed after she’d just tossed it away like that.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Wonder if he ever gets tired of being backup for Piper. Of being Mun’s personal yes-man.” She leaned down, popped off her shoe, and scratched the bottom of her toe. “These stilettos are making me itch.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a spicy peppermint, and popped it out of its wrapper.

  I found a stick of gum in my backpack and popped it in my mouth. I was about to explode and needed something else to do with my nerves, too. If Raq was going on tour with Piper, I deserved to be there, too. Maybe even instead of her. She hardly even bothered to help pass out CDs, which is what we were supposed to be doing with them on the road in the first place.

  “What kills me,” she said as she smacked and crunched, “is how he’s always talking about doing it big when really Pipe is the man, you know? Ask me, Gee is nothing but a low-class thug in Piper’s million-dollar game. I hate him.” She laughed.

  Then she said. “Have you noticed how Piper is always staring me down?”

  I reminded her, “Well, if it weren’t for Gee, we wouldn’t be here. Don’t forget that. You couldn’t have just walked up and stepped to Piper that night, not the way you did with Gee.”

  Absentmindedly, I reached down and grabbed my backpack, gripping it like I was about ready to fall and needed the weight not to do so. I stared over at Raq. Again, she was scratching her toe. In that moment, I knew that there was no itch. She was up to something.

  And that something was Piper.

  When they finally got back with our food, Raq immediately gave Piper a hug.

  “Congratulations,” she said, bouncing up and down as she hugged him. “Piper, you are the shit! Mal isn’t gonna know what hit that tour!”

  Hugging her back, a tad awkwardly at first, Piper laughed. “Yo . . . that’s what’s up.”

  When Raq had finally loosened the grip around Piper’s neck, I said from across the room, “You’re the man, Pipe. Congratulations.”

  He nodded. “Appreciate that, Glitz.”

  Gee was pulling the plastic containers of food out of the bag and stopped to look over his shoulder. “Dang, can a brother get some love?” He laughed. “I’m going, too.”

  Raq shoved him playfully. “You know you’re the man, Gee.” She pulled his arm until he leaned down so she could deposit a kiss on his cheek.

  I smiled at Gee, too. “Congratulations,” I said.

  As we ate, Raq was constantly flicking a speck of something off of Piper’s shirt or brushing back one of his braids.

  “So how many cities?” she asked him.

  “Twenty-two.”

  “And when does it start?”

  “Next week,” Piper said. “Gotta definitely get back to the D this Satur
day. . . . We leave right back out again on Sunday.”

  “Wow . . .” Raq touched his arm. “I’m so happy for you, Piper. . . . We should celebrate.”

  Gee reached for the remote control and turned up the volume on an infomercial. “We plan to, tomorrow night.”

  Raq whispered to Piper.

  Piper whispered back.

  Raq laughed.

  Piper laughed even louder.

  I stared at Raq.

  She didn’t even look at me.

  When Piper finished his food and got up, she got up, too.

  What was I going to say? No, you can’t go with him?

  No, Piper, you can’t leave with her?

  Neither of them even said good-bye.

  15

  After Piper and Raq left the room, Gee just shrugged, took out his cell phone, and started texting. I made myself useful, cleaned up all the plastic containers of leftover food, stuffed them into the plastic bags, and wiped the table down. When I finished, Gee was stretched out on what was supposed to be Raq’s bed.

  I grabbed the remote control and, while flipping through the stations, I thought I saw Gramma on the screen. But no. It was just some other thin-framed educated-looking woman talking to Larry King on CNN, something about politics. I looked over at Gee, his back to me, a lump of silence.

  I flicked off the television and turned on the radio instead.

  Now it was officially Wednesday. 12:02 A.M.

  Just after midnight. And I was definitely not feeling like Cinderella anymore.

  I fumbled with the stations, trying to find one that was playing some good music.

  One station was playing Millionaire Mal. I kept turning before it made me sad.

  Wonder what Raq and Piper are talking about . . . Or if they are even talking at all . . .

  Sir Gee stirred and turned to look at the radio, watching me turn from crackling sound to country jam to crackling sound to people talking.

  “Try a ninety,” he said.

  “Huh?”

  He cleared his throat, “If you stay in the nineties, you’ll usually hit something in most cities. Point three . . . Point five . . . Point seven . . . Point nine. Something usually comes in.”

  And he was right. After a few turns in the nineties, I heard the familiar sounds of Usher, a throwback slow jam from his Confessions CD. I balled up the pillow and curled up under the covers as it played.

  “Thanks.” I sighed. “Never knew that.”

  “No prob.” He turned his back to me once more. Moments passed and then he stirred again.

  “Why you so quiet all the time?” he wanted to know. He was sitting up now.

  “I’m not,” I said. “Not really . . .”

  “You always just have this look on your face, like you got something on your mind.”

  “Sometimes,” I said, “maybe I do.”

  “You’re different from your girl . . .” He tilted his head. “You’re real sweet though, you know?”

  He’d said it like I was a puppy dog or something.

  I laughed. “Um, is that supposed to be a compliment?”

  “For sure,” he said. “For sure.”

  He stared some more.

  Then he bit his bottom lip. “Kinda cute, too. . . .”

  How he looked at me then was different from how he had before. His expression was more direct now, more focused, and I got a good look at his eyes for the first time. They were more intense than I’d realized.

  He patted the bed. “Come here.”

  He wanted me to come there.

  “For what?” I asked.

  He kinda laughed. But he didn’t smile. “Girl, quit actin’ shy . . .” Then he said, “Wit’ yo’ cute self . . .”

  I joined him on the bed but kept a space between us.

  It felt like sitting next to a big old oak tree, Sir Gee was so big and solid.

  He took my hand and rubbed it. His skin felt rough and dry.

  As he massaged my fingertips, he watched my face.

  I stared up at the ceiling, studying the water stains and trying to make sense of what was happening.

  He kissed my neck, his lips hard and forceful. Once. And then again.

  No way. This couldn’t be right.

  His breathing grew noticeably louder.

  Then he began rubbing my arm.

  I was fixed on the bed like a mound of leftover cooking grease.

  Piper had only touched my arm and it had left a lifetime of tingles.

  Nothing about Gee’s touch felt good to me.

  But I tried to lay back as he kissed my neck, my cheek . . .

  He held my hand even firmer. Then he whispered into my ear. “Can I have you?”

  There was no pretending. No way. No thank you. I deserved better.

  I deserved Piper.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, sitting straight up. “I ... I’m sorry, Gee.”

  He patted me just above my hip and chuckled.

  Then his back was to me again.

  The next morning, Wednesday, Gee probably thought I was still asleep, that I hadn’t heard him get up and shower, dress and, now, yak on the phone. But really I had been awake thinking for a while. I just wanted to avoid any awkwardness.

  “We’re on our way, Mun! How many times I gotta tell you that?”

  Finally, I sat up in bed, flicked through the channels on the remote control, and kept my focus on the television where The View was on. The room was dim and tense, two people having awoken from a night of nothing but sleep. Too nervous to wear pajamas with just me and Gee in the room, I’d fallen asleep in my clothes. I wondered if Raq had felt the same way. In the next room. With Piper. From the corner of my eye, I saw Gee snatch open the ice bucket, toss a couple of watered-down cubes from last night into a glass from the bathroom, and then splash the contents of a tiny sample-size bottle of liquor on top of it. Drinking so early in the morning? I thought as he continued to fuss with Mun-E.

  “All right, man. I can’t get him to the interview if I’m on the phone with you.” Then he hung up. I heard the clink of the ice in his glass as he slammed it on the table, the jingle of his keys, and then he noticed I was awake. His voice dry, he said, “You better get ready. Meet y’all out at the truck.”

  Relieved when the door closed behind him, I sprang out of bed.

  All he had done was sleep, and yet I had never craved a shower so much in my life.

  “Hey, chica.” Raq climbed in the backseat beside me.

  Like it was nothing.

  Like it was all good.

  “Hey,” I replied, trying in vain to sound just as regular.

  Seriously, how could things be the same after what had clearly happened between her and Piper last night? After I told her I liked him and she laughed at me? Now I knew why: She just wanted him for herself.

  We remained silent as we rode along. Piper was scheduled for a local radio on-air interview at two thirty. Looking out the window at all the buildings in downtown Philly, I took a deep breath and tried to consume it all. The tall buildings, the people rushing around, all the taxis. But then a thought popped into my head: What if Gramma had really notified the authorities? And what if they found us?

  Just then I thought I had my answer. A big blue light was shining from behind us.

  Panic loaded into my chest.

  “Yo . . .” Piper was sitting up front where he had been text messaging and suddenly he dropped his phone in his lap. “What we pushing?”

  “I’m not speeding!” Gee replied, fishing around in his pocket for his driver’s license before easing the truck into a gas station parking lot. I could see the expression on Gee’s face as he checked the side view, the rearview. He grimaced when the patrol car crawled into the lot right behind us.

  I closed my eyes and for the first time, I truly wished I could wake up from this dream.

  Raq whipped a couple of credit cards from her purse and slipped them down into her cleavage. After that, she was cool. Not ev
en an extra blink.

  Standing at the car door was a police officer, his hair prematurely gray, his eyes weary as someone who’d been doing the same job too long.

  Gee’s voice was polite as he rolled down the window. “A problem, Officer?”

  “Seventy-two, at least,” the cop replied, sounding just like every voice I’d ever heard in every nightmare I’d ever had since I was five years old, since the first time I overheard Gramma telling someone about the night the police had come to the door to tell her about my parents’ accident. Police, in my mind, only showed up to announce bad news.

  Raq and I had pictured ourselves downing pricey champagne, laughing while tossing our heads back. Now, with Raq’s stolen credit cards, stolen cash from Judge and Kitty, and the fact that we were runaways, I wondered if I would be spending the rest of my life behind bars.

  Please God. Please don’t let me go to jail.

  Please don’t let my life be over yet…

  Gee cleared his throat, handed over his license and registration, and rolled up the window while the officer walked back to his patrol car. I tried to appear at ease, too, despite the whimper on the tip of my tongue.

  I glanced at Raq. She might as well have been whistling out loud, her demeanor was so relaxed. Piper looked mellow, too.

  It was all so unnerving, waiting forever in silence. I wanted to burst through the roof of the truck, hop out, and run back to Toledo. What in the world could that police officer possibly be back in his car doing?

  Finally, I could see him approaching the side of the truck. He tapped on the window and waited for Gee to roll it down again. I let out a long breath as Gee put his finger on the button and the window hummed quietly on its way down.

  The officer said, “What’s the rush? Headed somewhere special? ”

  “No rush,” Gee said.

  Piper chimed in. “Just passing through town, Officer. On our way to Power 99, the radio station.”

  “I see . . .” the officer said, looking over everyone the car. “Gonna have to cite you for speeding.”

  “My bad, Officer.” Gee’s jawbones were pumping, but he sounded okay.