by L. Divine
14
Kick-Ass Boots
“One of these days these boots/
Are gonna walk all over you.”
—NANCY SINATRA
After last night’s festivities, I didn’t have much time to study or do any homework, so I spent all my free time in the library today, which was cool. Mickey’s in in-house suspension again for the next two days, and Nigel, because he’s a football player, was given his sentence in the gym. I don’t know how the school justifies lifting weights as a punishment. But that’s part of the perks that come with being an athlete. All I know is I better get to Nellie before Mickey does and try to talk some sense into her. But with her playing the disappearing act, it’s going to make it hard for me to do.
“Hey, Jayd, are you ready to go?” Jeremy says, surprising me at my locker. I guess now’s as good a time as any to ask for the receipt so I can take back my purse. I hate to do it, especially since our relationship seems to be on thin ice. But I’ve got to stand up to him and let him know that, unlike other chicks he’s used to dating, my principles aren’t for sale.
“Yeah,” I say, closing my locker and taking his hand. “Would you mind if we stopped by the mall on the way home?” I go in for the kill. “I need to take something back.”
“Something like what,” he says, looking at me suspiciously. “I haven’t seen you sporting the new bag. Is there something wrong with it?” He sounds so sweet I almost chicken out. But I’ve got to be strong.
“The bag is beautiful,” I say, momentarily envying Mickey’s nonchalant attitude when it comes to material things. “But I can’t keep it.” My gold J bangle falls down my wrist as I slip my hand out of his and continue walking toward the exit; it reminds me that I’ve already been bought twice in our short relationship.
“Jayd, what’s this all about?” Jeremy says, catching up to me and reclaiming my hand. He stops me in the now empty hall, turning me around to look him in the face. “Are you still upset with me because of what Tania said to you the other day?”
“Yes, but it’s not just that,” I say. “How can I get you to understand that although I appreciate your gifts, that’s not what I want or need from a boyfriend.” If Mickey could only hear me now, she’d probably have me committed to an insane asylum or something. Nellie, too, for that matter.
“What the hell!” Jeremy yells, letting out his frustrations and stealing my coined phrase. “You are the most difficult girl I’ve ever dated.” He puts his hands over his head and squeezes the brim of his baseball cap. He looks like he wants to blow up, but he contains his anger.
“Well, judging by your exes, that’s a compliment,” I say. “Look, I’m not a simple bitch who can be deterred by the bling. And believe it or not, I actually like buying my own stuff; it makes me feel proud.” I feel good about my stance, now that it’s out in the open.
“Proud,” he says, like he can’t believe what I just said. “You feel proud spending your hard-earned money on a bag that I can buy without even thinking about how much it cost?” Now he sounds cocky. “That’s stupid, Jayd. You should save your money to help your family or whatever it is you need to do with it.”
“Help my family?” I ask. What is he talking about? “Who told you my family needed help?” Has he been talking to Misty? That sounds like some shit she’d say. But I know better than that. He wouldn’t even give that heffa the time of day after she ratted him out for selling weed on campus.
“Well, isn’t that why you don’t want me to see where you live? You’re too embarrassed to have me over,” he says, pissing me way the hell off. I knew he still wondered why I allowed him to take me only as far as the bus stop after school. But I didn’t think he thought it was because I was poor. This dude is too much if he thinks he’s rescuing me or something.
“No, fool, it’s not because I’m embarrassed about my house,” I say, punching him in the arm and walking through the back door of the hall. “I’m embarrassed to have you over,” I add, finally letting it all hang out. “I don’t want to get clowned for bringing the beach boy to the hood.” I never would have told him my feelings in that way, but he pushed me, and now they’re out.
“Okay, Jayd, if you say so,” he says, following me through the quad and toward the bus stop. “But I think we both know the truth. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you what my dad thinks, because it’s all about race, class and money, and that shit don’t matter to me.”
“If it doesn’t matter to you so much,” I say, speed walking up the hill, “then why did you take it upon yourself to think about my money for me, huh? Why not just give me the money if you think we need it so damn much?”
“Jayd, you’re too proud for your own good,” Jeremy says, sounding like he’s my daddy. “You need to just relax and accept my attention. It also wouldn’t hurt you to be a little grateful, too.” This time he’s gone too far.
“Who do you think you are? Captain Save-a-Ho or somebody ?” I say.
“Who?” he asks, looking confused. I forget he won’t get some of my jokes.
“Don’t patronize me, Jeremy. You’re so delusional, you actually thought I’d be silenced by a purse,” I say, taking the expensive bag out of my backpack and throwing it at him. “Take the damned thing back yourself. I’m taking the bus back to my little poorhouse in Compton.” I feel hotter than a tiny red chili pepper right about now.
“Jayd, I think you’re overreacting just a bit!” Jeremy yells after me. But I don’t care. He’s got all kinds of stuff going on in his head about me that I never imagined. What the hell is really up? All I know is that these Timberlands are going to give me a blister by the time I get home. If I had known I was going to be walking this afternoon, I would’ve worn my Nikes. It’s been only a few weeks and I’ve already become so spoiled by Jeremy and didn’t even know it. The three bus rides and the walk home will do me some good.
I need to cool off before talking with Jeremy again because we have a lot of issues to get straight. All this time I thought he was falling in love with me because he thought I was strong and independent. But now I see I’m more like his charity case who comes with the added benefit of pissing off his dad. I hate to admit when I’m wrong, but I think I overlooked a lot about dating Jeremy. And to top it off, he’s again not accompanying me to a school dance, leaving me vulnerable to Rah’s advances, and I know he’s going to be there waiting for his chance to get at me again, which now I’m ready to admit I’m looking forward to. At least Rah’s real with me always, no matter how much it hurts.
With Mickey and Nigel still on lockdown and Nellie avoiding me like the plague, today was very quiet. Jeremy and I have hardly spoken a word to each other all day, and that’s just fine with me. I think we’re both feeling like we may have rushed into this relationship without really getting to know each other. I don’t know that we will remain friends if we break up or if we would’ve ever really been friends in the first place. Sometimes I’m attracted to people I don’t really like. And I don’t know what to do about any of those people in my life right now.
My mom picked me up from school since she had the day off today. She doesn’t take personal days often, but she and Karl are going to Las Vegas tonight, so she had to go shopping, get her hair whipped and do her nails. By the time we get back to her house, I’ll have just enough time left with her to pick out my Halloween outfit and send her off, leaving me to get ready alone. Mickey’s going to pick me up at eight so we can be fashionably late to the festivities.
“So, have you decided what you’re going as?” my mom says, turning onto Century Boulevard, just minutes away from her house.
“Not really. I know I want to go as Coffy, but I’m not sure which scene,” I say, referring to one of our favorite movies. When I was a little girl, my mom used to watch all the Black films from the seventies: Super Fly, Shaft, Foxy Brown and Coffy, just to name a few. They’re our own version of superheroes from the hood.
“Oh, I have the cutest nurse’s outf
it from last year’s Halloween party at your aunt Vivica’s house. You can wear that if you want,” she says, giving me a naughty wink. I’ve always picked my costumes out of hand-me-downs, unlike the majority of students at South Bay, who spend more on a costume than I would on clothes for the entire semester.
“Mom, this is high school, not the strip club,” I say. Sometimes my mom forgets I’m still a teenager. I know a lot of these girls out here be letting it all hang out, but I’m not one of them.
“Girl, it’s classy, I promise.” As we turn onto Arbor Vitae, almost home, I see children already out with an assortment of plastic faces and pumpkins for collecting candy. My mom has never been into trick-or-treating, so I doubt there’s any candy for them waiting at her door. She used to take me and my cousin Jay to the mall, and we’d walk around collecting candy from the various stores, and then we’d spend the rest of the night at Daddy’s church, where they always had something going on for the kids. I miss those days.
“Okay, I’ll check it out when we get home,” I say. One benefit of going as a nurse who kicks ass on the side is that I’ll be dressed for the part of helping out those in need, because I’m sure there’s going to be plenty of drama to go around tonight—blood, worms and all.
“These boots are fierce,” I say, taking from her jam-packed closet the red leather boots behind the clean white outfit covered with a plastic bag.
“Yeah, they really make the costume.” And she’s right. It’s a long nurse’s dress with buttons all the way down and a slit on the right side. The small nurse’s hat with the red cross on it is the only thing medical about this outfit. “I told you it was classy,” she says, taking the boots out of the bag and placing them on the floor beside my feet. She takes out her small carry-on luggage and starts to pack for her overnight adventure.
“Okay, but what am I going to do with these?” I say, looking at the three-inch heels, knowing I’m setting myself up for disaster if I wear those things.
“Oh, Jayd, stop being so shy,” she says, taking one of the boots and putting it on. She’s stunning and can work the hell out of any shoes, unlike me. “It’s all in your hips, see?” She models the perfect sassy strut in the mirror.
“Yeah, I can see myself falling on my face in the gym.” As the image of me sliding across the basketball court enters my mind, so does the one of Nellie having a mouthful of worms for dessert. Sensing my discomfort, my mom walks over to me, holding my face in her hands.
“Oh, Jayd, why didn’t you tell me you had another dream? And such an awful image,” she says, seeing what I’m seeing for herself. My mom’s powers trip me out. But it seems to me she’s more in control of them than I am of mine, even without finishing her lessons with Mama.
“Mom, how do you keep from reading my thoughts when you don’t want to?” I ask. My mom sits down on the bed next to me, patting my thigh.
“It’s all about willpower. Remember how somewhere in the spirit book it talks about mind over matter and how your Ori is the one who can help you before anyone else?” she says, reminding me of the ceremony we just did for Netta a couple days ago. “Well, that’s how I control my thoughts creeping into your head—by allowing my Ori to take over, instead of me forcing the issue of not wanting to think about your shit,” she says, sounding more like Mama than she’ll ever admit to.
“So you’re saying I can learn to control my dreams?” Imagine that. If I could control what I dream about and when, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. Or if I could change the outcome without having to go through it in the real world, now that would be tight.
“Not necessarily,” my mom says, bursting my bubble. “But you can control the way they affect you. For example,” she says, sliding the long boot off of her thin leg, “Nellie eating worms shouldn’t affect your feelings. You should be able to see that and see the final outcome of the situation you want and not feel a thing. Separate your vision from your emotions, Jayd. Then and only then will you have a little more control over your powers.” Damn, I never thought about it like that. Have my feelings toward Nellie in some way caused this situation to occur in my dreams, and now in real life?
Yes, more than likely they have, my mom answers me in her head while getting up to take a shower. “But once you get the hang of them, you’ll be able to help people just like Maman and Mama do. I have faith in your abilities, little girl,” she says, taking the cutest purple bra and panties out of her top dresser drawer and heading into the bathroom.
I need to catch up with Mickey before she gets here. I tried calling Nellie several times throughout the day, but, as usual, she’s not answering her phone.
“What’s up, Mickey?” I say into the phone. It sounds like I’ve interrupted her doing God only knows what. I’ve learned never to ask, where Mickey’s concerned.
“What’s up, Jayd? I’m catching up with my man. Can I call you back later?” I can hear him in the background grilling her, and it doesn’t sound like anything nice.
“Yeah, sure. But real quick: who are you going as to the party?” I have to make sure she’s not planning on wearing the same thing as me.
“Pam Grier.”
“What! So am I!” I shout into the phone. I should’ve known. The few Black girls at the school will probably all be her in some way. She is the Black shero of the seventies.
“Well, then, we’ll be twins,” she says, trying to rush me off the phone.
“No, that ain’t going to work. I’m wearing a nurse’s outfit, so just don’t wear anything white,” I say.
“Fine, Jayd. I’ll see you in a couple hours,” she says, hanging up the phone. I still need to do my hair before she gets here, and my mom being in the bathroom isn’t helping, but she’s leaving soon. Then I’ll have the place to myself and can hook up my do. I know my mom still has her Afro wig around here somewhere, and I can braid my hair up underneath. Then I won’t have to worry about it for work tomorrow either. I’m looking forward to playing dress up, especially in my fly-ass red boots. I need all the power I can get, even if it’s all in my head.
Because Mickey and I both decided to go as Pam Grier, she has now assured me she’ll go as Foxy Brown. Nigel and Raheem are coming to the dance, as expected, but keeping their costumes on the low. I’m sure they’ll look good no matter what they wear. And I know, with it being a seventies party, they’re both going to be pimped out.
“Damn, girl, you look almost as good as I do,” Mickey says when she arrives, her pink Regal shiny from the fresh wax her man must’ve put on it. I’m surprised she’s in such a good mood after what I overheard on the phone earlier. Knowing her, that’s not the only thing that got waxed.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I say, commenting on her short skirt, low-cut blouse and fly-ass straight wig hanging down her back. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.” I get in the car.
“I know. My man’s tripping hard. But I got him to shut before I left,” she says, smiling. This girl is too much for me sometimes. We need Nellie back to buffer us out. Without her, it’s just too much heat around here.
“TMI Mickey: way too much information,” I say as she pulls off toward the beach. It’s a breezy evening but not too cool. I have on my mother’s red wool wrap, which matches my outfit perfectly. I hope I can get to Nellie before she takes a bite of that apple and gets the treat of her life. I still have to convince Mickey to help, even if she does consider Nellie to be enemy number one right now.
“Whatever, girl. You better learn some tricks from me and save your little relationships while you can,” Mickey says, putting her long airbrushed acrylic nails through her wig with one hand as she taps on the steering wheel with the other.
“The only relationship I’m worried about saving is the one between you, me and Nellie.”
“Oh, hell, no, Jayd. I know you’re not serious about that girl,” she says, rolling her eyes at me. I see she hasn’t cooled off a bit.
“Look, Mickey, she’s our girl. She’s
been taken over by the dark side, and it’s our job to get her back.”
“You sound like one of those goddamned White-ass horror flicks,” she says, turning onto Aviation toward PCH. The nightlife is always cracking out here.
“You know what, Mickey, you’ll thank me for it later,” I say, convincing myself that she’ll change her mind. “Besides, I can’t do it alone. I need your help.”
“It’s always the ones who want to help that get killed off first in those movies,” she says, unrelenting in her judgment. No matter what Mickey says, we’re getting our friend back tonight, and we’re also going to find out who our real friends are and who are just enemies in sheep’s clothing.
15
Trick or Treat
“My night nurse/
Only you alone can quench this Jah thirst.”
—GREGORY ISAACS
These White folks go all out for their parties. There’s a disco ball dripping blood in the center of the gymnasium ceiling, hanging from the scoreboard. Everyone’s taken their costumes to a gory edge, making me and Mickey look like virgins. I think we all watched similar movies because everyone’s either got on an Afro, a long wig or some extra-high boots. But none of these folks look as bad as we do, and I know it, because all eyes are instantly on us when we walk in the room.
“Mickey,” I hear Nigel say as we enter the crowded gym. “Damn, girl, you look good,” he says, grabbing her by the waist and kissing her cheek. They look cute as a couple, but it’s too bad that—like this gym turned haunted house—it’s all an illusion.