Sellout

by Ebony Joy Wilkins

  “What do you know about it anyway?” she asked roughly. “He ain’t no good and Monique knows it.”

  “They look happy together,” I said cautiously.

  “Yeah, well, you’re wrong,” she said, kicking her legs out in front of her.

  “How do you know so much about them?” I asked.

  Quiana faced me squarely with her elbows on her knees. She was either gearing up for a fight or getting comfortable to tell me a really long story. She looked back over at the happy couple again.

  “It wasn’t too long ago he was behind bars for hitting her,” Quiana said. She sucked in her breath, like she had spilled a secret no one was ever supposed to find out.

  “She called me up one night and said he came to her place trashed,” Quiana continued. “She couldn’t get him off of her, no matter how hard she fought him. I jumped on the train and got to her as fast as I could but he’d already knocked her out cold. She woke up in the hospital with more bruises than an old piece of fruit. Her momma didn’t even recognize her. I showed her the birthmark on ‘Nique’s thigh and she about fell out, too. I stayed with her in the hospital for three days over him. And now look at her.”

  Every muscle in my body was tense, like I was watching a movie where the murderer was about to attack an unsuspecting victim.

  Quiana had to be pulling my leg. I stared at her, but she glared at the “happy” couple with such intensity it was enough to blind a person. If it weren’t for the small tears in the corners of her eyes, I would have called her a liar. I wouldn’t have actually said it, of course, but I sure would have implied it.

  “Damn, my allergies are acting up again,” she said, reaching for a Kleenex.

  I wasn’t sure what the right thing to say was after a story like that. While deciding, I kept close watch on Gray Hairs. It was hard to believe this man was capable of hurting Monique. They looked so happy, both smiling and leaning into each other. How could Monique be that way with someone who had put her in a hospital?

  “Why in the world would Red let someone like him in here after all that?” I asked Quiana, when she was done “clearing up her allergies.”

  She rolled her eyes first and then kicked her legs back onto the couch.

  “She knows he’s bad news, but really she don’t know the whole story,” she said. “Red likes to give everyone a second chance.”

  Quiana looked right at me when she said this, either telling me Red wasn’t as smart as she appeared or Red had given her a second chance or two over the years. Curiosity nearly pushed me onto the couch next to her.

  “So, is that how you’re still here?” I asked, nearly whispering. She didn’t answer. I was digging too much. “Do you feel like you have to protect Monique?”

  “You ask too many damn questions, you know that, Sellout?” she snapped. I nodded my head yes, still waiting for the answer.

  “Since you’ll probably keep asking, she’s helped me out before and that’s how we roll,” she said. “Now, bounce and go bother someone else.”

  I left, feeling like Quiana and I had made huge progress. We actually had a full conversation, without any punches thrown. There was potential there. But we had a long way to go. I smiled as I walked away.

  Tilly and Red held a planning meeting for the recognition ceremony for all the girls after visiting hour was over. When I walked in they were seated close to one another, laughing about something Red was saying. I pulled up a chair next to Tilly.

  Monique and Gray Hairs had said their good-byes, with Quiana watching them like a hawk. They both walked in the room a few minutes after me. I smiled at Quiana and moved my chair over to make room for hers next to me. She sucked her teeth and dragged her chair loudly across the floor away from me. Then Maria waddled in behind the others, holding her stomach, and sat down next to Red. The rest of the girls followed suit until we had a full circle.

  Tilly reached over to put her arm around my shoulder and squeezed me a little.

  “Okay, ladies, it’s that time of year again,” Red said. “A few of you are leaving us because you’ve proven over time that you are able to be productive members of society again and will no doubt be moving on to bigger and better things. NaTasha and Monique are working together to plan the recognition ceremony, so let’s hear your ideas of what you would like them to be like.”

  “It’s about damn time I get out of here,” Quiana said, rolling her eyes to get the other girls wound up. It worked. She slapped high five with Rochelle, who folded her arms roughly across her chest. “I think we should get balloons, confetti, and all that.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet, ladies,” Red said, holding her hand up to get the girls’ attention. “NaTasha and Monique, I’d like the two of you to take some notes.”

  Monique didn’t move, so I asked Red for a piece of paper from her notebook.

  “Are you girls going to need additional help?” Red asked.

  “Actually, I asked Quiana to help us as well,” Monique told her. She slapped five with Quiana and Rochelle. That was news to me. I prayed Quiana wouldn’t just get in the way and make our task even harder.

  “Okay, fine then,” Red said, writing something down. “I expect you to fully cooperate and help one another out. I would hate for anything to go wrong during this planning time to remove either of you from our recognition list.”

  “You trippin’, Red,” Quiana said loudly. “I told my whole family I was getting out of here. You know I don’t need to come here anymore. I got to get up out of here this time.”

  “Then I’m sure you’ll work harder than anyone to help NaTasha, right?” Red said, smiling. I hoped Red would join us during every step of the planning process. I was asking for trouble being alone with those two.

  “If it’s our ceremony, why do we need NaTasha in the first place?” Rochelle asked. Some of the girls nodded in agreement. “She isn’t even going to be recognized.”

  “Because she’s willing to help,” Red said quickly, but then added in her quiet voice, “and just as with everyone new you’ll meet in your lives, you may learn something from one another.”

  The girls mumbled for second, but no one said anything else, except for Tilly. She had all but disappeared from the circle with her silence. She let go of my shoulder and leaned in toward the center of the group. All the sudden it was hard to breathe. Get them, Tilly!

  The girls quieted and all eyes were on my grandmother. The scowls disappeared almost immediately, as if Tilly held some magic powers. She took a deep breath in and then slowly pushed all the air out.

  “Red and I were in here together just like you girls now,” Tilly started quietly. She was almost whispering. When I leaned closer to hear her, she had a look of sheer force in her eyes, determination. “We were at each other’s throats day in and day out.”

  Red and Tilly looked at each other and smiled.

  “We didn’t know nothing about each other,” Tilly continued. “I just knew I couldn’t stand her. And she couldn’t stand me, either.”

  The girls and I stared at Tilly and Red. It was hard to imagine the two fighting like Quiana and Monique and I were now. They were so close these days. I wondered what huge event had made them become friends. I could tell the others were thinking the same thing.

  “We didn’t even speak, just started fighting,” Red said, taking over. “It almost got us kicked out of here, too. We were on our way to juvenile hall before we realized what we were doing. It was a bunch of silliness.”

  Tilly had run away from home a few times and her parents finally called the police on her. Red’s story involved more serious crimes, but they both ended up at Amber’s Place together. They each shared a little of their story.

  Tilly’s words stung. Hearing my grandmother spill her dirty laundry was embarrassing for me, especially in front of these girls. Tilly should have told me this stuff before, like back in Adams Park, or at least in the privacy of her apartment.

  “It wasn’t lon
g before we had to sit down and work together,” Tilly said. “The director at the time gave us a job to do and forced us to team up. There wasn’t any person I wanted to get away from more, trust me. After awhile, we started talking and really got to know each other. The rest is history, I guess.”

  “That don’t mean the same is going to happen with us,” Quiana jumped in.

  Tilly sat back, crossed one leg over the other, and folded her arms. I’d never seen her sit like that and she didn’t really look comfortable at all. One leg looked like a dead tree limb, pushing the rest of the trunk over on its side.

  “True, but who is to say it won’t?” Tilly shot back. We looked around the circle at one another. Everyone looked back at me, except Monique. She was either asleep or really embarrassed.

  “Maybe I should have told you girls earlier, but I didn’t bring NaTasha here just by chance,” Tilly said, completely shocking me. I didn’t want to be talked about at all, and certainly not like I wasn’t in the room. “She hasn’t had the opportunity to find herself in the small, suburban town that she lives in, like you girls here in the city. The good Lord gave each of you a story, a different and unique story worth telling, and I believe He’s giving you all a chance to figure it out together, just like me and Red here. It would be a real shame for you girls to keep on acting a fool and miss out.”

  A few more heads bowed and I wondered if Tilly would break out in prayer. She had done it before, so no one in the room would be surprised if she did.

  “Tilly’s right, ladies,” Red said. “It is up to you to take the bull by the horns and make this work. Let’s make this ceremony the very best it can be.”

  This was too much. Tilly was using me as an example. She and Red were talking about me like I wasn’t even in the room. These girls had already done a good job of alienating me. Now my own flesh and blood was making it worse for me.

  Red ran through a list of what we needed to prepare. I pulled a pen from my back pocket and wrote everything down.

  “So, let’s make a list of what you want to see at your reception,” I said flatly. My voice was shaky.

  “At my mom’s graduation from City College, there were fancy tablecloths,” Susan said. “She got to wear a robe, too. They had catered food from some big-time restaurant and they each got an invitation in the mail. They even had a prayer service and some of the graduates gave speeches.”

  “Sending out invitations?” Rochelle said, shoving Quiana next to her. “I ain’t graduated from nothing in my life before that needed invitations.”

  A few of the girls giggled.

  “Of course we can get invitations, Rochelle,” Red said. “That’s a great idea. Does anyone else have ideas?”

  “You know I can do a prayer,” Tilly said. Tilly could pray about anything at any time. The girls laughed. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Shaunda unfolding a piece of paper. “And, Monique,” Tilly added, “we could have you do the speech, give someone else a chance to talk for a change.”

  Tilly looked right at Quiana, who twisted her face up after realizing the joke was on her. She smiled, though.

  “No, I can’t do all that,” Monique said, with her head still bowed. “I get too nervous. Everyone will laugh at me.”

  “They’re gonna laugh alright,” Quiana said. “Maybe about how you look, but not about what’s coming out of your mouth.”

  Everyone laughed at that. The girls sounded excited. Tilly looked at me and winked.

  “I could help you write something,” I offered to Monique. Quiana and Rochelle clammed up right away, but Monique looked interested. Quiana wrapped her arm around Monique, pulling her close like I was trying to steal her friend away.

  “I can help, too,” Quiana said with a challenging stare. I’d have to catch Monique later when her bodyguards weren’t around.

  “This is going to be great, ladies.” Red said. “Who else has ideas?”

  “What about an awards ceremony?” Shaunda asked, reading from her list. “Or a dance and a speech?”

  So that’s what her paper was all about. I nodded my head and wrote down her suggestions onto my own list. Now we were getting somewhere.

  “Yeah, like an award for who used skin bleach the longest without anyone knowing?” Quiana whispered. Shaunda refolded her list and put it back in her pocketbook.

  “Okay, Quiana, that’s enough,” Red said. “I’m glad most of you are on board to help NaTasha. It is my hope the rest of you will follow suit or the jokes will be all mine. I assure you.”

  Red dismissed us dramatically, pretending to call each name as if the girls were already onstage. The girls waved and bowed, then started gathering their belongings and moved the chairs back into place. The meeting had gone well, much better than I thought it would.

  “Think about all we’ve talked about,” Red said. “The more you plan, the better your ceremony will be. And, NaTasha, Monique, and Quiana, you three may want to meet over the weekend sometime to exchange more ideas.”

  Red was pushing it.

  “Yeah, we’ll see, Red,” Quiana said, before walking out of the room.

  Sounded like my weekend plans of relaxing with Tilly had changed. Tilly grabbed my hand and we followed the others out of the room.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  TILLY SENT ME outside early on Saturday morning. No grocery list, just told me to get some fresh air. It was early, but I wasn’t the first one out. The neighborhood was bustling with people.

  Store owners were lifting the iron security bars on their front doors and the street vendors were setting up for a long day of selling. I found Rex out on the corner.

  “Good morning, Rex,” I called out as I passed the bodega. He was leaning on a cardboard box, his cart not far away. He peeled a banana and waved it at me.

  “It is a good morning, miss lady,” he said, in between mouthfuls. I waited for him to keep talking. “How are the girls treating you up in the boogie down Bronx?”

  “They’re treating me just fine, Rex,” I told him, thinking that overall they treated me horribly, but it was much better than the first few days I’d been there. I waved and kept moving. I was headed toward Central Park, where I was going to wander around until I was lost, and then try and find my way back home again. “Things may actually be looking up soon.”

  I paused and glanced toward the bodega.

  “Well, that’s good, Miss NaTasha,” Rex said, leaning with me to see what I was looking at. He smiled. When he’d finished off the banana, he tossed it into a nearby trash bin. “He ain’t working today.”

  “Who are you talking about?” I asked him, while he stood up and pushed his cart off in the direction of Tilly’s building. “I was just trying to remember if we needed anything for dinner tonight.”

  He didn’t stop pushing or turn around, just raised his arm up in the air and kept walking. He thought I’d really be looking into a store for that boy. Can’t a girl check the aisles in a store for no reason at all?

  I walked the few blocks toward the park, letting the wind blow my hair across my face. Tilly had helped me wash and blow-dry it last night. It resembled Bozo the Clown’s, without the orange coloring. Tilly said it looked good, so I left it alone. My friends at home wouldn’t be able to even recognize me. Since I’d arrived in Harlem I’d seen so many different hairstyles. No one looked the same. Here, my natural hair blended right in.

  I rounded a trail that led to the top of a hill and looked out across an open field. By the time I got to the top, the sun had fully risen and spread its rays through the trees, creating shadows all around my feet. There was a small wooden bench, with slightly broken pieces. I sat down and got comfortable.

  I took in all the sounds. They were sounds I used to hear back home, kids playing in the field below, leaves whispering in my ears, and birds singing songs from the trees above me. At Tilly’s, most of the sounds were loud neighbors arguing in the street, police sirens blaring, screeching subway trains, honking taxis, and driv
ers with foul mouths. I thought about sitting in the park all day long. Tilly would probably enjoy her freedom without me under her feet for a few hours.

  “Hey, stranger, I haven’t seen you around in a few days.”

  I turned to the voice. It was Amir. He looked different in street clothes, without a white apron and butcher’s hat on. His white T-shirt and baggy, khaki shorts were soaked with sweat and stuck to his body. He looked good.

  I smiled and waved at him.

  “How’s it going?” he asked, wiping his brow.

  “Still here,” I said. I knew it was a silly thing to say as it came from my mouth, but it came out anyway. Of course I was there, with an old shirt on, no makeup anywhere on my face, and wild Bozo the Clown hair. I was glad he hadn’t kept running past like he didn’t recognize me. “I don’t leave until the end of next week. You know I wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye.”

  Amir smiled and walked closer to me.

  “Good to know,” he said. “Is it okay if I sit?”

  Of course it was okay. He could have asked to lie across my lap and it would have been A-OK with me. I nodded my head and made space for him.

  We sat in silence for a while, but I couldn’t hear the birds, the leaves, or the kids laughing anymore. I couldn’t hear anything, except Amir breathing heavily in and out right next to me. Our shoulders touched slightly. His skin felt nice, like a flower.

  I hadn’t been this close to a boy since Mr. Cook’s science class. My partner, Hank Andrews, had a reputation for blowing up science experiments. He would sit close to me and say “watch this” and then light something on fire. Hank smelled like eggs. Amir smelled nothing like Hank.

  When Amir looked away, I leaned closer to smell him.

  “That bad, huh?” he said, catching me and laughing. He sniffed his armpit and made a face. “Yeah, it’s bad. I don’t always smell this good, I’ve been running for almost an hour already.”

  “No, no, it isn’t that,” I laughed. “Just making sure it wasn’t Hank and eggs.”