by Brenda Woods
“It was a’ight.”
He corrected me. “You mean all right.”
“That’s what I said, a’ight.”
He looked at me and shook his head.
As soon as we got home, I loaded up a paper plate with fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and two biscuits. I poured some cold Pepsi into a paper cup.
“We could sit down and eat like a family,” my daddy said.
“That’s okay, maybe tomorrow,” I replied, and went into my room. I locked my door, turned on TRL, and got busy with the food.
That’s how my days were, nothing special, no drama. Maybe Emako was right about my perfect life.
I took a bite of chicken.
The phone rang and I picked it up. “Hello?”
It was Emako. “Monterey?”
“Yeah?” Now my food’s going to get cold, I thought.
“You are not going to believe who just called me.”
I picked up the remote and pushed mute. “Who?”
“Gina.”
“Jamal’s Gina?”
“Jamal’s ex-Gina.”
“No she did not! Who gave her your number?”
“I give you one guess.”
“Savannah?”
“Savannah.”
I put down my food. “And?”
“She told me I needed back up off Jamal.”
“What?”
“And I told her that she should be talkin’ to Jamal, not me.”
“And what’d she say then?”
“Somethin’ about me bein’ a ho, and that was when I told her that the conversation was over . . . click, and I hung up the phone.”
“I cannot believe her.”
“Who you tellin’? Like it’s my fault. Plus, ain’t nuthin’ even happened between Jamal and me. At least nuthin’ like what she thinks. The most we ever did was kiss.”
“So what you gonna do?”
“I’m ’bout to call Jamal.”
“Then call me back, okay? And I want the whole story.”
“Later.”
I hung up the phone and picked up my food again. It was still warm.
Twenty minutes later, my phone rang.
“Hey,” Emako said.
“And . . . ?”
“Jamal said he was gonna talk to Gina and tell her not to call me anymore.”
“That’s all?”
“No. He was talkin’ real sweet . . . tryin’ to be smooth.”
“You’re getting into him, huh?” I asked.
“He’s a’ight.”
“I thought you didn’t have time for no mess.”
“I don’t. But he’s kinda fine.”
I agreed, “He is.”
“He asked me to go to Disneyland this weekend.”
“You goin’?”
“I dunno, maybe. . . .” She paused. “I gotta go. I promised to help Marcel with his multiplication b’fore he gets too sleepy. See ya t’morrow.”
“Later,” I replied.
Jamal
She had never been to Disneyland. Never. I couldn’t believe it. At first she had said she wouldn’t go because of all this drama with Gina. But she finally said okay.
We walked through the gates of the Magic Kingdom and her eyes were all wide like she was a little girl.
I felt like I was opening up the world for her.
I felt like a man.
I took her hand and held it like she was mine.
Emako had taken the braids out of her hair, cut it real short, and dyed it blond. She looked good.
“The first thing I gotta do is buy Marcel and Latrice those Mickey Mouse hats with their names embroidered on ’em. I promised,” she said.
“Wait till we get ready to leave, cuz that way you won’t have to carry ’em around with you all day. That’s one of the big mistakes people make when they come to Disneyland, and then when they go on Space Mountain and all the good rides, they gotta worry ’bout holdin’ on to a bag, worryin’ ’bout stuff fallin’ out,” I said as we walked toward Fantasyland.
“Okay, but don’t let me forget.”
“I promise,” I said, taking her hand.
We stayed from ten o’clock in the morning until eleven o’clock at night. The new Disney adventure, the old Disney adventure, the whole Disney adventure. I was glad when she finally got tired.
The freeway wasn’t crowded and the ride put her to sleep. She looked like a sleeping doll. I stopped the car in front of her house and she woke up, startled. I pulled her to me and kissed her lips. She kissed me back, but I started getting hot and my hands started traveling and she froze.
“Stoppit, Jamal,” she said softly, but I knew she meant it. She opened the car door and got out.
“You mad?” I asked, getting out to walk her to the door.
“I ain’t mad.”
The lights were all out in her house. She put her key in the lock of the rusting security door and turned around.
“Thank you, Jamal . . . for takin’ me to Disneyland. It was fun.”
“Yeah, it was.”
I got back in the car and locked the doors. I was in South L.A. and it was after midnight.
The porch light was on when I got home. I tiptoed in. The house was quiet like the night before Christmas.
I stripped down to my boxers and got between the sheets. I thought about Emako. I had almost stopped noticing the other honeys and I called her every night. Oh, hell, no. I’m in way too deep. I shook my head and closed my eyes. Sleep didn’t take its time finding me.
Eddie
Finally! I got my early acceptance from Arizona State. Now I was smiling all the time. I couldn’t wait to leave Los Angeles behind me. Sometimes it felt like this city was about to swallow me up whole like a hungry python.
Emako sat down beside me in the cafeteria.
“I got accepted at Arizona State,” I announced.
“Congratulations, Eddie! Arizona State, cool.”
“Yeah,” I said. “My parents are all proud. My dad put up a big sign in his market. I never heard the word mijo so much in my life before.”
“Mijo?”
“My son,” I translated.
“So you gonna come back and visit us?” she asked.
“Maybe.” She had a strange look in her eyes. “What’s up?” I asked.
“Someone put a knife in my brother Dante, but he ain’t dead.”
“Where is he?”
“Wayside.”
“My brother, Tomas, was there three years ago. Now he’s at Chino. He’s been shot and stabbed so many times that we stopped calling him the cat with nine lives and started calling him the cat with twenty-nine lives. He just keeps on living.”
“Karma,” she said.
“Yeah,” I replied. “All he does is worry my mother. She hardly sleeps. I find her in the morning, curled up on the sofa, the TV on, rosary in her hands, tears in her eyes. Last time I saw him he had tracks on both arms . . . heroin, and I said, ‘Dude, you gonna get HIV.’ He looked like someone had stolen his soul. That was when I decided to try and forget him, but I can’t.”
“My mama keeps telling me that God’s gonna answer her prayers, but her hair is turnin’ white from worryin’,” Emako said. “Now he might get an early release. You know, time served. That’s all we need, Dante back up in the house, bringin’ us down.”
I reached for Emako’s hand. She took my hand and held it. Tears began to well up in her eyes, but she held them back and let go of my hand.
“Ain’t nuthin’,” she said.
“Yeah,” I replied. She was strong like me. “It’s gonna be good, for me and you. In two years you’ll have your recording contract and be outta here too.”
“A lot can happen in two years, Eddie.”
Monterey sat down beside me. “What’s up, y’all?”
“Nuthin’, ’cept Mr. Eddie got accepted to Arizona State,” Emako replied.
“I know,” Monterey said, and looked up at me.
“I calle
d her yesterday as soon as I got the letter,” I added.
“Why do you look so sad?” Monterey asked.
“Emako’s brother got stabbed,” I told Monterey.
“I know,” Monterey said. “But he’s gonna be okay.”
“Every time I turn around, it’s more DD,” Emako said.
“DD?” I asked.
“Dante’s Drama,” she replied. We all laughed.
“One more summer and I’m outta here. L.A. will be history. Nuthin’ about this city that I’m gonna miss,” I said.
Monterey and Emako looked at each other.
“Except you guys,” I added.
Monterey moved closer to me. “I was about to say.”
“You two make a good couple,” Emako said.
“We do?” I asked.
“We do,” Monterey answered.
Savannah
When I saw Jamal’s face on Monday and found out about the trip to Disneyland, I figured he was doing Emako. I mean, why else would he be so nice to her? So, I put the word out. Besides, if it hadn’t been for Emako, Jamal and Gina would still be cool and I wouldn’t have to listen to all of her pitiful nonsense almost every night.
Two days later, I was waiting for my mother after school and Jamal walks up to me like he’s my best friend or something. I knew I was in trouble.
“Hey, Savannah,” he said.
I wondered if I should run, but I remembered my first rule: When you find yourself in a bad situation, there is only one thing to do, lie.
“Hey, Jamal,” I replied.
“How you been?”
“Everything’s cool, waitin’ on my mom. She’s late.”
He stared at me for a minute and then he spoke. “Did I ever tell you that you have a pretty mouth?”
It wasn’t the kind of question that I expected. “No,” I replied.
“Well, you do, and I was just wonderin’.”
I thought to myself, I know he is not gonna get nasty with me. “Wonderin’ what?”
“Wonderin’ why you gotta use it to spread lies.”
“Excuse me? I do not spread lies.”
“Let me explain something to you, Savannah. Number one, I’m not doin’ Emako, but that’s really not your bizness, is it?”
“No,” I said.
“Number two, next time you see Emako, I want you to tell her that you’re sorry becuz she ain’t about that, okay? Number three, stop callin’ Gina with your nonsense.”
“Why you think it’s me? Like I’m the only one with a tongue,” I said.
He shook his head and turned to walk away, still talking, “Y ’all see a brother bein’ nice to someone, and the first thing y’all wanna say is he’s doin’ her. And Savannah, one other thing.”
“What?”
“Stay outta my face.”
I looked around to see if anyone was watching, but there was no one. Two minutes later my mother drove up. I slithered into the front seat like the snake that I was.
“You can’t speak when you get in the car?” she said.
“I said hi,” I lied.
We drove in silence. This thing with Jamal and Emako, I thought, I’m never going to win, so I might as well give it up. If you ask me why I cause trouble, I would answer, I don’t know. It used to be fun.
She dropped me off in front of the house and headed back to her travel agency. People were making their plans for the summer and it was busy.
I walked into the house and looked at my reflection in the mirror in the entryway. I was getting fat and I was too mean. No wonder no one loves me.
Monterey
The day Dante came home, my daddy dropped me off at Emako’s house at about two o’clock in the afternoon. I knocked and Verna opened the door. She went out onto the porch in her robe and waved at my daddy while I snuck into the house.
Dante was asleep on the sofa. Emako had told me that they had given him an early release. He groaned and I saw him open one eye and then close it. His hair was corn-rowed, his skin dark brown. He pulled the covers over his head.
Emako yelled from her room, “I just got home from church! I gotta change my clothes!”
Dante groaned again and turned over.
I stood at the door and watched my daddy’s car as it drove away.
Verna came back in the house. “I was making hot links and scrambled eggs. Have some?”
“No, thank you, Mrs. Blue. I already ate.”
“What’d I tell you ’bout callin’ me Mrs. Blue?”
“Verna.”
“That’s better.”
Emako came into the living room. She was dressed in low-rider jeans and a white shirt. “C’mon,” she said to me.
“Where y’all goin’?” Verna asked.
“Burger King. I gotta pick up my check. We’ll be right back. C’mon, Monterey.”
I followed her outside. The old man who lived next door was cutting his lawn with a push mower, and clumps of green grass lay on the sidewalk.
“You saw Dante,” she said.
“Yeah, I saw him.”
“His wound’s infected, so my mama’s been waitin’ on him hand and foot like he’s some kinda invalid, which he’s not. I’ll be glad when he gets well so he can get up outta my mama’s house.”
“Where’s he gonna go?”
“I dunno, away . . . before he brings more trouble.”
We walked to the corner and crossed the street.
“I got a tattoo.” I rolled up my sleeve and showed her the vine of ivy that circled my upper arm.
“When?”
“Last Saturday. I took the bus to Venice, by myself.”
“By yourself?” Emako paused. “Your mama’s gonna kick your butt.”
“It wears off in three weeks,” I said.
“Henna?”
“Yeah.”
“Your mama’s still gonna kick your butt.”
“Not like she needs to see me naked,” I said.
“Monterey?”
“That’s my name,” I replied.
“I know you are not tryin’ to get funky with me.”
“I can and I did.”
“So it’s like that. One tattoo and a trip to Venice Beach and you grown?”
“I’m grown.”
“A’ight then,” she said, and smiled as we entered Burger King.
Emako headed toward the small office while I waited in front. I looked at the tattoo again and thought, I am grown. Almost.
She returned with her check, waving it like it was a hundred-dollar bill.
“C’mon.” She motioned and we headed back out onto the streets. The sun was shining. The sky was blue.
We turned the corner toward her house. Dante was on the porch with three brothers.
“See what I mean?”
I did. “Yeah.”
“But you can’t tell my mama nuthin’. ‘He’s still my child,’ is what she says. ‘He’s still my child,’ over and over again.”
We walked up the path to the front door.
“Baby sis,” Dante said, and smiled. He was fine, but one of his front teeth was missing, looking like a black hole in his mouth.
The skin on the back of my neck stood up.
“Miz Emako . . . all grown up . . . ain’t you fine,” one of the brothers said, looking us both over from head to foot. “And who’s your cute little friend?” All four of them laughed.
“Get out my way, J.T.,” Emako snarled.
“Oh, it’s like that?” J.T. snarled back.
“Yeah, it’s like that,” Emako replied.
Finally, Dante spoke up. “Leave the superstar and her little friend alone.”
“Superstar!” they said in unison.
Emako pushed the door open and we went inside. “Mama, I thought he was supposed to be laying low. I mean, if he’s well enough to walk outside and kick it with his gangstas, then he’s well enough to get up outta here.”
“He’s still my child,” was her mother’s reply. “Y ’al
l hungry?”
“No, we’re not hungry. C’mon, Monterey.”
We went into her room and she closed the door. “Can’t even have a normal life with him around. I gotta get outta here.”
“You will.”
“Yeah”—she took a deep breath—“I will.” After a while she said, “Me and Jamal spozed to go to City Walk tonight. You wanna come? Maybe Eddie can come too.”
“Yeah, but I gotta call my daddy,” I replied.
She grinned at me. “Oh . . . but you grown.”
She got up and I followed her into the living room. “Mama, where’s the phone?”
“I dunno, ask Dante.”
Emako went to the front door.
“Dante!”
“What?” Dante was standing on the sidewalk with J.T. The other two brothers were nowhere in sight.
“You got the phone?”
Dante held up the cordless black phone for her to see.
“Could I use it?”
“Come and get it, superstar.”
Emako whispered something under her breath and stormed toward Dante and J.T. I trailed behind her.
Just then a car drove by. It was the same caramel-colored brother in the Regal that I’d seen before. The one who’d come into Emako’s line at Burger King, looking for Dante. He stared at Dante. Dante nodded at him as he handed the phone to Emako.
The car rolled to the end of the block. Suddenly, the brother in the Regal made a fast U-turn and drove back toward us. “Dante!” he yelled.
Dante looked up.
I froze when I saw the gun.
“Mama!” Emako screamed as the bullet hit her.
Dante and J.T. hit the ground and five more shots rang out. When they ended, I was still frozen, watching the Regal as it sped out of sight.
Dante and J.T. stood up, examining their bodies for wounds. Emako’s was on the sidewalk, lying in a small pool of blood. Her eyes were wide open.
Verna raced out the door toward Emako, screaming.
She got down on her hands and knees and tried to pick her up. She couldn’t. “Call 911! Call 911!” she yelled, and started to breathe air into Emako’s mouth.
She reached up and grabbed me by the hand. “Push on her chest.”
I kneeled on the ground and pressed on Emako’s chest. Blood was all over my hands. “Wake up,” I said softly.
Verna ran to a neighbor’s house, still screaming, “Call 911!” She banged on the door until somebody opened it.