Make Something of It

by Stephanie Perry Moore

  “Urgh, Jazzy Jay, feel my head. I don’t feel good. I got to go home,” I said to my friend when Mr. Freeman came near our desks.

  “It’s almost the end of the day. It’s almost time to go home anyway,” Jazzy Jay felt my head and gave me a crazy look. “You seem fine. Besides, you can’t go home! I got a whole bunch of orders for your scarts.”

  Excited that he really loved my designs, I said, “Oh, you said it right!”

  “Who doesn’t know what a scart is? If they don’t know, they not in the know. Hello!” Jazzy Jay said before he snapped his fingers.

  Mr. Freeman stood before me. “Did you see Spencer out there in the hallway? He said he had to go to the restroom shortly after you left, and he hasn’t come back.”

  “I, I, I need to go to the nurse. I feel horrible,” I said quickly, remembering I had to help Spencer out.

  “You look okay to me,” Jazzy said, still not getting the point.

  He was supposed to be my dog, my refuge, my buddy who had my back. We hadn’t known each other that long, but we were kindred spirits. He was blowing up my phone about all the orders he had for the scarts, and I didn’t think he was using me. He was just a businessman, and I did need a big-time salesperson. I wasn’t one to get out there and flaunt what I had. Every class period he was modeling a different scart, and before that class period was over, it was sold. And although he wanted to talk to me more about what he needed from me, I needed him to get on board and tell the teacher I looked bad. So I eyed him down.

  He squinted, frowned, and then smiled because he had an aha moment. Jazzy Jay said, “Well, now that you say that, turn to the left a little. Your eyes are a little puffy. Your nose drooped some two centimeters to the left. You got a lazy eyebrow … Okay, you don’t feel good. School’s almost over, you can’t make it until the end of the day?”

  “Nu-uh, women stuff.”

  That always worked on a man, and sure enough, before I could blink, I had a pass from Freeman.

  “If she doesn’t feel good, can I walk her to the nurse’s office just to make sure she doesn’t pass out or anything? Because you would hate for her to pass out and it be on your head,” Jazzy Jay said to our teacher.

  “Fine, but you come right back!” Mr. Freeman said as he walked over to his desk.

  Jazzy Jay leaned in. “What’s going on with you? Spencer ain’t come back …”

  “I got to get to the office. I don’t have time to explain this.”

  “Explain what? I need to know. Don’t hold out,” Jazzy Jay snapped.

  To get him off my back, I quickly said, “He was fighting in the hallway, and the stupid principal came and took him to the office.”

  “Fighting? And I missed it? Did his shirt get taken off?” Jazzy Jay joked.

  “Jazzy!”

  “No, I’m serious. And don’t forget the Jay,” he reminded, and I nodded. “Who was he sparring with?”

  “It was Fritz.”

  “Oh. I hope he killed that wannabe beast.”

  “He did, and that’s all the principal saw.”

  “So what you gon’ do?” Jazzy Jay asked, looking at me crazy like I couldn’t do a thing.

  I just shrugged my shoulders but headed out determined to try. When we got to the nurse’s station, which was right next to the office, I tried to go in the office door. Spoiling my plan, the nurse was standing out there waiting on me.

  “Your teacher called down. I wanted to make sure you got here okay. I’ve already called your dad. He’s on the way here,” the nurse said.

  “You called my dad? I’m going to be …” I cut myself off before I said the word fine.

  “You’re going to be what?” The nurse probed, checking me out as if I was faking. “Come on in here and lie down.”

  “No, no, I have to get something from the office,” I blurted out, scooting by her, not giving her a chance to hold me back.

  When I stepped into the office, it was crazy. I couldn’t find Spencer, but I saw the principal standing there listening to a man argue with Mr. Brown and Spencer’s mom. The man was an older image of Spencer, so I knew that was his father.

  “You guys didn’t have to come,” Spencer’s father said in a heated tone. “I’m the guardian right now. The school called me. So don’t come up here acting like my son is messing up your life because you got a call from the school too.”

  Mr. Brown huffed, “If you and his mom knew how to make him act like a responsible human being, then I wouldn’t need to be here.” He looked at Spencer’s mom. “You need to tell the school to take you off of stuff because we were on our way to an engagement, and we had to drop everything to come here to try to make sure your son doesn’t get kicked out. Stupid boy of yours hasn’t even been in school a couple weeks, and he’s suspended for fighting. See, that’s why I wanted him out of my house.”

  “But you got it all wrong! He shouldn’t be getting suspended,” I stepped in between the adults and boldly voiced.

  “Miss Sharp, I told you to go on back to class,” Dr. Garner said to me.

  “I know, sir, but you have it wrong, and his parents deserve to know the truth.”

  “We know everything that happened,” Mr. Brown said. “Besides you’re the last person who needs to try and explain anything.”

  “Let her talk,” Spencer’s mom said.

  But before I could say anything, the office door was opening up again, and my dad walked in. “Shelby, I thought you were sick. Why are you in the office? Hey, Brown …”

  Mr. Brown was happy to get me in trouble. “She’s in here putting her nose in other peoples’ business. If I would have known your daughter was here, my stepson wouldn’t have gone to school here.”

  “Like you can decide where my son goes to school,” Spencer’s father said.

  “Come on, Shelby,” my dad said to me, probably real irritated with me and Mr. Brown.

  I stepped closer to the door, but then I couldn’t walk out. “I’m a witness. A guy was about to hit me while he was assaulting another girl. Spencer stopped him. He shouldn’t be suspended for that.”

  “Is that true?” Spencer’s mother asked as she looked over to the corner. A man moved to reveal Spencer, who was standing over there all the time.

  He gasped, “I tried telling y’all the same thing, but nobody wanted to hear it from me. Believe what you want to believe.”

  “It’s true!” I reiterated. I turned to my father because he hated injustice. “Daddy, I tried to tell the principal, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “No, no, no, I didn’t hear you say that to me. If you would have told me that, I certainly wouldn’t have brought this young man in here, and I, I didn’t even know, Mr. Brown, that he’s your stepson. I mean, I, I, I just didn’t know,” the principal sputtered.

  “Well, now all that’s cleared up. Come on, Shelby, let’s go,” my dad said, still annoyed.

  But I looked back at Spencer. Although I could tell it was hard for him to tell me thank you—and he really didn’t need to because he helped me out in the first place—I could tell he nodded that he was happy. I was thankful that I had gotten him out of the doghouse.

  Later that evening, after family time, dinner, and homework, I was getting ready for bed. My mom knocked on my door and came in. “Can I speak to you, sweetie?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I want to make sure you’re okay. Your dad told me about what happened at school today. A guy assaulting girls, that’s a lot. Do you think your environment is safe?”

  “Yeah, just one bad apple. Honestly, I love the school.”

  “Okay, I’m proud of you.”

  “I know you always tell me to mind my own business, but that was just it. Spencer helped me with my business, and if I let him get in trouble for nothing, I just wouldn’t have been able to live with myself,” I explained.

  “Oh, Shelby, don’t be so dramatic,” my momma said, as she came over and kissed my forehead. “I could tell weeks back that you
were intrigued by this young man, and maybe I misjudged him. Maybe he gets a hot head for the right reasons. And although he should always be able to control his temper, I am thankful he was there for you today.”

  I just hugged her. Finally, she was beginning to understand, but I didn’t like the guy. Shoot, who was I kidding?

  “For my government class, we’ve got to turn in a history fact. I’m going to watch the news, then turn off the TV.”

  “You’re on it,” my mom said. “Good night, sweetie. I’m so proud of you.”

  I turned on the news. And the newscaster was describing a horrible case of domestic violence where a man shot his wife, two young children, and his mother-in-law. My whole body got numb like I was paralyzed. At the same time, it felt like my heart was being torn from my chest. I wasn’t in the house. I didn’t know any of those people personally, but it was playing all in my mind as if I were a fly on the wall, witnessing this horrible incident.

  I had been quiet about domestic violence far too long. What if Mr. Brown, Sydnee’s boyfriend, or Fritz snapped, took their violence to another level, and ended the lives of the women they were abusing? I knew something about it, but I never did anything about it. How could I go on? I touched my throat because it was hard for me to breathe.

  Just thinking about the lady being terrified for her life and for her two young children, who were innocent in all this, being gone was too much for me to deal with. I rushed out of my room, like I was in a track meet, went to the kitchen, and turned on the faucet. I needed some water badly. I needed to be revived. But this was real, and I knew other incidents could go that bad if someone didn’t intervene. I put my head down and kept splashing water on my face.

  As my head began to clear, I remembered hearing my father’s campaign manager telling him he needed a “heartstring” issue if he wanted to make his lead insurmountable. My dad hadn’t been able to give Lou a good answer. They’d ended their conversation with Dad promising to think more about it.

  How could my dad not be feeling anything heavy as he thought of the city’s plight? With the pain of the city on his shoulders, was he clueless to what was going on? If that was Spencer’s mom, Sydnee, or even Lyrica, dead because of violence, I knew a part of me would be dead too.

  The tears just started flowing as I felt for the lady I didn’t know, wishing the city could have done more to help. With tears in my eyes, I went into the dining room and found my dad. “Dad, you need an issue. You need to turn on the news. Women are hurting in this city. We got big domestic violence issues going on, and there’s going to be an uproar tomorrow over this man who killed his wife, her mother, and their two young children. I know several other domestic violence incidents that are equally bad. And it’s not an old or young problem, a black or white issue, a rich or poor struggle. Domestic violence is hurting Charlotte. We need awareness about it. We need a place where women can go to get help. We need a male to speak out about this injustice.”

  “Come here, sweetie,” my dad said, as he stood up and hugged me. “Your heart is golden. I hear what you’re saying, and it moves me just like it does you. We’ve got to do something to give battered women a sanctuary.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SOMETHING

  “Oooh, girl. I have some news to tell you. You’re going to be so excited. You’re going to make me the VP of your new company.” Jazzy Jay rushed up to me as soon as I got in school.

  It wasn’t that I wasn’t excited that Jazzy Jay was so helpful in getting the word out about my scarts. I probably had fifty at my house. In two and a half weeks, he sold all of them, and I haven’t even had a chance to make any more. So, actually I wasn’t excited that he was coming to me with more orders because school had started. I needed to keep my GPA high, and I hadn’t even really been studying because so much has been going on.

  Putting my hand up as to say not now, I uttered, “I know. I’ve got to fill some orders.”

  Jazzy Jay snapped and stopped me from walking. “No, honey. It’s better than that.”

  “Sorry I seem ungrateful that you are helping me. Just stressed.”

  He nodded his understanding.

  I smiled at the grace given and said, “So what could be better than you making my scarts the hottest thing around here?”

  He tugged on my arm and pulled me close, like he had the real scoop that was gonna make my world. “I talked to my cousin, Sydnee. Girl, she wants to have your scarts on her runway at her fashion show. You’re going to get a ton of press. She even wants to help you manufacture them, and we gonna be able to sell way more than that little fifty that I just sold. She wants to back your brand.”

  “Really?” I said with glee.

  This was big news. Everything was all happening so fast for my design. If Sydnee was serious, I would go from nothing to something overnight.

  My friend lightly jabbed me in the arm. “You gon’ be a star! Okay so, after school you’ve got to work with her. This is going to be phenomenal!”

  Jazzy Jay and I went our separate ways to get to class. I just started thinking. What was really up with this invitation from Sydnee? I wasn’t comfortable last time I was at her place. While I knew my invention was worthy of being on anyone’s runway and deserved garnering tons of attention, I was unsure of this gesture. Did she really, really believe in it like that? Or was this a ploy to keep me quiet about what I saw?

  Thinking back on her crazy boyfriend Brian, I was still angry. Seeing what I saw was eating me up, but I would never betray her trust and tell. However, I did want to shout what was going on with Syndee from the rooftops so the world would know and so someone could intervene before her life was taken. Since I was gonna stay silent, maybe doing this with Sydnee would give me a chance to talk to her more, keep an eye on her, convince her that the guy she was with was not the guy she needed.

  As Lyrica passed by me, I knew I already had my hands full in the dump-your-boyfriend department. If I wanted someone to work on, someone to help change her life, someone to help see the light, then that person was right in front of me. I was going to say something to her, but she was strolling around with all her girls trying to be all cool, laughing at stuff, and joking on other people.

  When I looked deeper, I could tell there was a sadness deep within her. There had to be. She wasn’t an idiot. She had a boyfriend who was a monster. How could she be happy with that? And just as I suspected, when her friends went their own way, she leaned her head back in despair. Right when I was about to catch up to her, she started walking to class again. As she turned the corner to go down a different hall, she ran smack-dab into Fritz, whose hands were all over another girl. She turned around and bumped straight into me.

  “I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she rambled.

  “Can we go talk,” I said to her in a tone more caring than a grandmother would use. “I know we got class, but there’s still ten minutes before it begins.”

  “Talk about what, Shelby?” Lyrica was not happy trying to deal with me.

  Not wanting to get equally frustrated back, I sweetly said, “You just saw what I saw. Fritz doesn’t deserve you. He aggressively put his hands on you and … last night, I saw the news and was broken when I heard about this lady who got killed by her husband.” Lyrica’s eyes started to water. “You saw it too?”

  Dropping her head, she admitted, “Yeah, I did.”

  I placed my hand on her shoulder. “That’s where you and Fritz are headed. You have got to deal with this now. If you don’t let him know that what he is doing is not okay, he’s going to do it to others. Lyrica, maybe one day he’s going to grow up and become a man who’s going to take a woman’s life.”

  “The word’s out that Spencer’s not suspended anymore.”

  “Yeah, but Fritz needs to be,” I told her.

  There was a long pause. When Lyrica could not look me in the eye, I knew she knew I was right. Fritz strolled by with his arm wrapped around another girl and walked past us like we weren’t ev
en there.

  Finally, Lyrica exhaled, gained confidence, and smiled my way. “I deserve better. Let’s go to the office and set the record straight.”

  The last couple of days, Sydnee and I had been immersed in making sure we got her ready for her big fashion show. She hadn’t mentioned Brian nor had I, but I was particularly happy that I didn’t see him around. Had I not witnessed him attack her with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe she would even put up with anything that disturbing and degrading. She was such a strong lady.

  Her big day had finally arrived. She’d actually turned the center of her store into a runway. Chairs were on both sides, and after we stepped back and took in the beautiful setup, we knew we were ready for lights, camera, and action.

  She kept taking deep breaths as she worked with the models and changed out accessories. Her jeans were striking; beads down the sides and perfect fits that made the booty pop. I’d actually never seen anything like it. When she dressed some of them in my scarts, the models commented on how cute they were. At that moment, I saw for myself how nice they looked, and I felt like I was in my element. My passion was fashion. A scart today and a whole line of clothes tomorrow.

  “I need to talk to you,” Sydnee said as she pulled me to the back and cupped my face with both of her hands. “You’ve been by me this whole week. You haven’t once judged me, and you know what I’m talking about. I just wanted to tell you thank you.”

  I gave her a big hug and said, “Well, I need to thank you for giving me this opportunity. Not just for working for you but being able to showcase my work. I’m honored, Sydnee, really.”

  “Y’all need to come out from back there. People are starting to pour in. I know I’m the hostess with the mostest but, Sydnee, you’ve got a press conference,” Jazzy Jay said.

  “No, she’s doing the press conferences afterward,” the blond-headed, blue-eyed man said.

  “This is my publicist, Jazzy. He is handling all the PR and press. I’ve got to stay back here and get the models ready.”