by Ni-Ni Simone
Always.
At least I had Man-Man, although he was in the eleventh grade, and I had Pop, and thankfully we had homeroom together.
I shook my head and continued to stare at my reflection.
What am I doing?
The one thing I hated more than being the new kid was feeling sorry for myself.
I walked into the kitchen where Toi, Noah, Man-Man, and Malik sat around the table, while Ms. Minnie and Cousin Shake fixed our plates. I sat down and Cousin Shake snapped. “Oh no you didn’t just walk in here and not say good morning.”
This dude.
Toi took her index finger, swirled it slyly next to her temple, and mouthed, “He’s crazy.”
I gave a tight smile. “Good morning.”
“Now that’s better,” Ms. Minnie said. “Good mornin’, baby.”
“Cousin Shake, what are you fussing about?” Ms. Grier said as she walked into the kitchen dressed for work. She smiled at everyone. “I heard you fussing at my children from all the way upstairs.” She gave Noah a kiss on the cheek, Malik a kiss on his forehead, and winked her eye at the rest of us.
Cousin Shake shook his head. “Grier, that’s why these kids act the way that they do.”
“They didn’t even do anything,” Ms. Grier said.
“They’re always doing something. And especially Man-Man.”
“Why is it always especially me?” Man-Man asked.
“’Cause it’s always you,” Cousin Shake said. “And to think when you were little I could tolerate you. And Grier, you need to talk to Man-Man about running around here eating up all the snacks and the chicken nuggets. I bought two bags of chicken nuggets and snacks yesterday and by last night they were gone.”
“That wasn’t me,” Man-Man said. “I don’t even like chicken nuggets.”
“Yes, you do,” Toi said.
“Why don’t you mind your business?” Man-Man snapped. “This a grown man conversation.”
“Then why are you in it?” Toi retorted.
“All right,” Ms. Grier said. “Enough. You two know better than to be arguing at the table.”
“No, they don’t,” Cousin Shake said. “Now, my Minnie has finished this food and I want er’body to stand up so we can get our grace on.”
We all stood up, held hands, and Cousin Shake began to pray. “Wassup, J to the e to the s to the u to the s?”
What the...
Cousin Shake continued, “What’s good wit You and er’-body up there in the Heavens? We wanna thank you for blessing us with another day to get it right. Another day for broke down Lil-Kim a.k.a. Toi to be less hoochie-fied, ’cause I love lil Noah but we don’t need another baby up in here. Another day to stop Man-Man from thinking he’s a playboy ’cause he grew some hair on his chin and got two hairs on his chest. Another day for Seven to be in the Big Easy but not be the Big Easy. Another day to stop Gymnasium’s stank attitude. Another day—”
“All right, Cousin Shake,” Ms. Grier said sternly.
“And another day to show their mama that I’m not scared of her. That I raised her, she didn’t raise me. And another day to show my Minnie that I love her for more than just her body. I love her for her mind and that body is just extra.”
“It sure is,” Man-Man said, and then tried to play off what he’d just said by coughing like crazy. I patted him on the back.
“Is it something wrong with you, Man-Man?” Cousin Shake asked.
“Nah, nah, I’m good. Just that visual of Ms. Minnie’s body tore me up from the floor up. I’m straight now, though.”
“Amir,” Ms. Grier said sternly, “Be quiet.”
“Yeah,” Cousin Shake said, “you better shut ’im down. ’Cause I bet’ not catch him side-eyeing Minnie. Now bow your heads and let me finish my prayer.”
We complied and Cousin Shake went on. “As I was saying, we just wanna thank You Brother John, I mean Jesus, for putting us on our way and getting these busters ready for school. Let ’em know, Lawd, that the rules have changed. Along with all of my many duties around here I also double as the homework police. Let ’em know none of their lil lazy and crazy friends better not call here after nine. ’Cause if they do, they will be subjected to a Cousin Shake cuss out. So, yeah, I’m ’bout to close this prayer out. And thank Ya for er’thang. The air we breathe and the blood running warm in our veins. And this we pray in my play-cousin Jerry, I mean Jesus’ name. Amen.”
What kind of . . .
I looked at Man-Man and he said, “Just let it go. Trust me, eat, and leave it alone.”
I took Man-Man’s advice and began to eat my breakfast of cheese grits, fried eggs, bacon, and orange juice. “So, Gem are you excited to start school today?” Toi asked.
“No.” I stuffed a piece of bacon into my mouth. “I’m cool. It’s just school.”
“Just school!” Man-Man screeched. “Man, it’s more than school, it’s a lover boy’s playground—and my specialty is turning out all the freshmen.”
“I thought you and Pop made up?” I said confused.
“Nah, we always break up on the first day of school. Give me a chance to scout things out and give her something to complain about.”
“She needs to dump you and never look back,” Toi said.
“She loves me.”
“That ’cause she doesn’t know you don’t have any money. And nobody likes a broke pimp,” Toi snapped.
“Amir, you better not be pimpin’ anything but those grades,” Ms. Grier said.
“Ma,” Man-Man said. “I got this.” He turned to Toi. “Back up off of G-Bread now. Fall back.”
Cousin Shake cut in, “You just better get yourself together, M.C. Alphabet. Now don’t make me volunteer as the teacher’s aide just to watch you, Man-Man ’cause I’ll do it.”
“Can you be the teacher’s aide at my school, Cousin Shake?” Malik said excited. “Then I don’t have to be alone.”
“Malik,” Miss Grier said. “You won’t be alone. You’ll make plenty of friends.”
“Baby-Tot-Tot,” Cousin Shake said. “All the kids gon’ like you otherwise they’ll have to deal with me!”
Malik laughed. “I really hope the kids are nice.”
“Why are you sweatin’ that?” I snapped.
“Because I’m scared the kids won’t like me,” Malik admitted.
“They will like you,” I said, hoping Malik would cut the feeling-sorry-for-himself shenanigans. “And you know they will.”
“But I hate being the new kid.”
“Get. Over. It,” I said tight-lipped.
“Don’t be so hard on him, Gem,” Ms. Grier said. “How about this, Malik. How would you like it if I took you to school this morning? I have a friend whose son is going to be in the same grade as you, and I would love to introduce you two. I have a feeling that you will turn out to be great friends.”
“Okay!” Malik’s face lit up and I didn’t know whether to feel happy that Ms. Grier was being nice or to feel annoyed because Malik needed to get it together.
I decided to nix it. I had my own day to worry about.
“All right,” Cousin Shake announced. “Time’s up!”
Ms. Minnie cleared the table. “You all have a wonderful day!”
“That’s right,” Cousin Shake added. “Enjoy your day and just know I love y’all.”
Just when I thought he was a monster, he proves that he’s human.
“Bye, Ms. Minnie. Bye, Cousin Shake,” we all said, leaving the kitchen.
“Malik, where are your sneakers?” Ms. Grier asked as we headed toward the front door.
“Oh, I forgot to put them on.” He ran upstairs to his room.
“All right,” Toi said. “I have to get Noah to daycare and get to class! Bye.”
“Oh, snap,” Man-Man said as he patted the side pocket of his jeans. “I must’ve left my phone upstairs. Hold up for a minute, Gem.” He raced up the stairs, and left me and Ms. Grier standing here together.
After a m
oment of silence Ms. Grier said, “So, Gem, you look really cute this morning.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you excited?”
“No, I’m going to tenth grade, not kindergarten.” I knew I shouldn’t have said that, but I couldn’t help it. I’d been asked that question twice and both times it reminded me that I was anything but excited. “I’ma go and check on Malik and see what’s taking him so long.”
Before she could go off I’d run up the stairs and into Malik’s room.
“Yo,” I said to him. “What’s taking you so long?”
“What are you doing in here?” he said in a panic.
“Wondering why you’re taking so long. Duh.”
“I can’t find my sneakers.”
I pointed to a corner in his room where sneaker boxes were stacked on top of each other. “Ms. Grier bought you tons of sneakers, wear another pair.”
“No, Baby-Tot-Tot has to look sharp, like Cousin Shake said.” Malik shook his head. “And I have to wear my Vans on the first day.”
I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling. “You gon’ make everybody late.” I walked around the room, to help him look for the sneakers.
“I don’t need your help,” Malik snapped at me.
“Boy, please.” I waved him off, got on my knees, and looked under the bed.
“I said I don’t need your help!” he screamed.
“I already know it’s a zoo under here.” I dipped my head under the bed. “So don’t... yell at me... again!” There was a ton of stuff under this bed, none of which I could really see because under the bed was dark. “You need to clean up!” I grabbed a garbage bag and dragged it from under his bed.
“What is going on up here?” Ms. Grier said walking in.
“What’s taking you so long? You two need to get going.”
“I was trying to help him look for his Vans.”
“They are hanging on the shoe rack,” she said. “I put them there last night. All you had to do was look behind the door.”
Duh!
Ms. Grier grabbed the sneakers as I stood up and dusted my jeans. The bag I’d just dragged from under Malik’s bed caught my eye. It was an untied black garbage bag with food and loads of snacks inside . . .
What the...
I peeped at Malik and he held his head down. I felt like choking him.
I don’t believe this. I took my foot and tried to kick the bag back under the bed. It was too bulky to fit back in place easily, and all my foot did was rip it.
“What are you doing, Gem?” Ms. Grier asked. She walked over to where I stood and pointed to the garbage bag.
“Nothing, I was just—”
“About to lie,” she completed my sentence. “Now what is that?” She reached for the bag and looked at Malik. “Young man, when I told you to clean up your room yesterday I didn’t mean stuff the trash under the bed! I see you and your big brother have a lot in common.” She picked up the torn bag and everything in it fell out and splattered across the carpeted floor: cereal, chicken nuggets, fruit snacks, chips, and a box of Capri Sun juice.
Dead...
“What is this?” Ms. Grier asked. The expression on her face let me know that she was not feeling this and she was not feeling us.
On to high school number four.
“Malik, why is there food under your bed?” she asked. “Is this the food Cousin Shake said was missing?”
I looked at Malik and his eyes welled with tears. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “Gem, tell her I’m sorry.”
I wanted to spaz—big time. Malik knew we didn’t need to give these fools any reason to trip. And it wasn’t like I’d never spoken to him about stealing food before in other foster homes. Actually, I don’t even know why he stole the food—maybe it was like he was trying to make up for the times we starved.
Malik had to know this would cause mad trouble... or maybe since the foster parents always blamed the missing food on me and I always took the weight, Malik really didn’t know or understand the drama that always went down.
But whatever. All I knew is that this little dude was trippin’. Hard.
“Malik,” Ms. Grier said patiently. “Why was there food under your bed?”
He didn’t say a word. But I did. “I did it.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I did it.”
She twisted her full lips. “And why would you steal food?”
I shrugged. “Habit, I guess.”
“Habit?”
“Yeah, I mean. My fault.”
“Your fault.” Ms. Grier arched her brow. “Were you scared you would go hungry, starve, or that the food would disappear?”
I hesitated and then I figured whatever. “Yeah, that’s it. I went hungry too many times to count and since all I know is how to survive I was scared to be hungry again. So I started stealing food and hiding it under my bed—”
“It was under Malik’s bed,” Ms. Grier said.
“Yeah, that’s what I meant. Hide it under Malik’s bed.”
Ms. Grier gave me a half a smile. “You’re a wonderful big sister, but a terrible liar. And don’t lie to me again. Now, Malik come here.”
Malik didn’t move.
Ms. Grier repeated herself. “Come. Here.”
Tears slid down his cheeks as he slowly walked over to her. “Yes.”
She lifted his chin. “Look at me.”
He lifted his eyes toward her and before she could say anything he said, “You gon’ put us out?”
Ms. Grier paused and then she hugged Malik tightly. “Oh, baby, let me tell you something. As long as you’ll have me and my crazy family this is your home.”
“Really?” he said anxiously. “So you’re not mad at me.”
“No,” she said. “I just want you to understand that you don’t need to steal food because whatever we have here is yours. It’s not going anywhere. It won’t disappear, and I will never let you starve.” She lifted her eyes and looked at me. “Ever,” she said. “And I mean it.”
And I knew she meant it, I just didn’t want to deal with any mushy, emotional or heavy stuff right now. I just wanted—for once—to have a regular day. No worries. No aggravation. No baggage.
“Yo, Gem!” Man-Man yelled up the stairs. “Let’s go! I need to get to school a few minutes early to stroll around the grounds.”
Saved.
“Let’s roll!” he yelled again.
Gladly.
I looked at Ms. Grier and said, “I gotta go.”
“And we both know you’re in no rush.” Ms. Grier smiled at me and surprisingly I smiled back; mostly because I couldn’t help it. “Have a good day,” she said.
“You too,” I said as I raced out of the room. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough and just as I headed toward the stairs I heard Malik say, “I love you, Ms. Grier!”
11
“Let me school you on Brick City High politics,” Man-Man said as wide and purple lace panties dangled from the rearview mirror of his black ’01 Civic Hatchback. The panties swayed like a ribbon in the morning breeze. I was disgusted. Lip turned up and face frowned disgusted.
“What’s wrong with you?” Man-Man said as we drove up the street. “Ms. Minnie’s fried eggs tearing up your stomach?”
“The only thing tearing up my stomach are those wide behind lace panties dangling from your mirror. Are those clean?”
He gleamed. “First of all, don’t disrespect the trophy. And yeah, they’re clean ’cause I washed ’em. And they’re not wide, they’re just right.”
“For who?”
“My boos. Big girls. I love ’em. I can’t stand no skinny chicks.” Man-Man frowned like he had something bitter in his mouth.
“And why not? What skinny girls ever do to you?”
“They just don’t feel right. Whenever I tried to hug one I felt like I was being attacked by a paper cut. Nah, I like my honeys the same way I like my chicken: plump, big thighs. Nice and thick. Juicy. But don’
t get it confused, although I like big girls I have a limit. I like a hungry man’s dinner, not a buffet. Feel me?”
How about no . . . “So those panties belong to some random chick. How nasty.”
“You buggin’. I bought those panties out of Dollar Tree. They belong to me.”
“You own a pair of lace panties and I’m buggin’? Yeah, okay.” I side-eyed him.
“You need to get your mind right. ’Cause if you broadened your horizons you’d understand that those panties keep me focused.”
“Focused?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “On what? Big booties?”
“There you go, mind all in the gutter. Ma raised me to be a respectable young man. I like girls for the veins in their brains.”
“What?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”
He continued, “So I bought the panties because when I meet my plus-sized queen and I ask her to be my girl, I’ma give her the lace panties to wear.”
“Boom,” I said sarcastically and snapped my fingers. “It’ll be like a ring.”
“Pow, there it is,” Man-Man said. “Like a drop down crown. And if ya girl Pop gets herself together maybe she’ll get her upgrade on, be back in wifey status, and these panties just might be in her future. Dig?”
“How rewarding. I’m sure she’ll love that.” Not.
“You know my motto: go big or shut da hell up.”
“Yeah, those big panties prove that.”
“And there it is. Now let’s get back to politickin’.”
“Let’s.”
“So check it: at Brick City High I run the Player’s Club.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“ ’Cause you know how I do it. And peep this—I’m not only a client, I’m the Player president.” He popped his invisible collar.
O . . . M . . . G . . . straight clownin’ . . . And while Man-Man tripped off of his own swag and laid down his laws of the land, my mind drifted to thoughts of Ny’eem. I was feeling him like crazy...I just didn’t know what to say to him, which is why I had yet to call him back. He’d called me two days in a row. Left messages on my cell phone and not once did I dial his number. I just didn’t know what to say to him.
“Yeah, hello...” was my failed attempt to act out our conversation. Even to myself I sounded stupid, so I knew he would think I was dumb.