by Justin Sayre
WHY???
I just don’t what’s the big deal
why would you ruin this for me
I’m not ruining anything leg
why are you being like this
like what
like a total bitch
She keeps texting, but I don’t answer after that. The whole time I’ve been friends with Allegra, I’ve known she has a mean side. Ducks first told me about it, but I didn’t want him to be right. He also thought she hated him, and the truth is she’s dying for him to be her friend, or anyone to be her friend. But now she’s just nuts. How could she say something like that to me?
Auntie calls me down to the kitchen. I’m not even going to text Ryan, that would be too much. I’ll deal with him later.
“Don’t you need help with that family project? I brought down the scrapbook for you,” Auntie asks as we blow on bowls of reheated soup.
“I think I want to go as you.” I smile.
“What?” Auntie exclaims.
“We have to go as someone in our family that we’re proud of,” I say.
“Don’t they have to be dead?” Auntie asks, breaking off pieces of bread for each of us.
“No. It’s the Day of the Dead, but they don’t have to be dead,” I answer.
“You sure?” Auntie says.
“Yes. And I want to go as you.”
“Well, that’s very sweet, baby,” Auntie says, touching my face. “And if I had to do it, I would go as you. It’d be a Freaky Friday for the both of us. But I think you should think about going as your mama.”
“What? That’s crazy.” I laugh.
CHAPTER 25
It’s starting to hit me that I’m leaving soon, and I don’t know how to tell Ducks. He’s going to freak out. Walking to school with him, I’m quiet, and of course he notices. I’m still not sad about leaving. That might come later, but I can always come back. It’s just a subway ride.
Once we get past the numbered streets, Ducks says, “Ellen told me you’re coming over for Halloween. That’s cool.”
“Yeah,” I answer. “What are you going to be?”
“I wanted to do this whole thing with blood and red hair, but I can’t. So maybe I’ll just put on dog ears and come as Scooby. You’re still thinking Daphne, right?”
“That would be funny.” I laugh. He does too.
“Why aren’t you going with Ryan?” he asks.
“I’d rather spend the night with you guys and Hannah.”
“Okay.” He smiles.
That’s all we say until we’re a few blocks from school, and he tells me he likes my necklace. He always says this about this particular necklace, because he gave it to me. When he first started getting into opera, he read something about peacock feathers being a sign of wisdom. Then one day he showed up with this necklace, a single peacock feather hanging from the chain. I knew he’d saved up for it and that it meant something to him. I loved it right away. I wear it all the time, and he always tells me he likes it. I think he’s trying to remind me, but I never forget. He deserves to know I’m leaving. Even if it means he gets upset. He does sweet things for me, I should be sweet to him. Even if I ruin his day. So I tell him.
“What do you mean you’re going to move to Harlem?” Ducks almost squeals.
“I can’t stay with Janet anymore,” I say. I sigh this long sigh and say, “And I don’t want to.”
“Why?” Ducks asks. I know he’s not registering how my move will affect him at all. He just knows that I’m upset, that something about my mother upsets me, and he wants to know the what, why, and how of it. His feelings will come come later.
“Because I hate it,” I say. I’m getting closer to the truth, it’s right in my throat, but it’s attached to that bubble you have to swallow before you cry, and I’m not sure if I want to cry before school. I breathe deeper and deeper as he asks me a bunch of questions right around the edge of it, and then in one big gulp, I say, “She drinks.”
“Okay,” he answers.
“She’s always drunk. And mean about it. And I have to put her to bed sometimes.”
Ducks just says “okay” again and walks closer to me so I don’t have to yell it all to him.
“It’s been going on for a long time, and it gets really bad, and then she’ll try to hit me or . . .”
“She does what?” Ducks asks, almost in tears. He knows what I said, so I don’t repeat it.
“Yeah.” I smile as the first tear rolls down my cheek.
I tell him all of it, even more details than I gave Auntie. I tell him about locking myself in my room and waiting for her to fall asleep every night, about sneaking the bottles out to Jen in the mornings. But I also tell him how lonely it is, how scary and embarrassing it is all the time. I tell him about the good weeks, when she apologizes, but how I know she’ll always go back. For the first time, I say the truest thing I can about it. And he just listens.
“I’m just so tired,” I say, almost sobbing, but trying to hold it together.
Ducks puts his face close to mine and is very still. He puts his arms around me slowly, and I put mine around him, we’re both crying and trying not to. He knows exactly what I mean. I feel safe with him.
We stand together like this for a while, close and quiet, holding on to each other like we’re alone in the world. For a minute I forget that we’re on the street and that it’s getting late. I don’t care, and neither does he. All he cares about is me, and in the moment, that’s all I need.
We walk the rest of the way, holding hands and talking about silly things: about the project for Mr. Gennetti, guessing about the Halloween party at Brian’s that neither of us is going to, and how we both get caught up or confused in our silly heads, when we know the other one is right down the street.
“I really need to get a phone.” Ducks smiles.
We laugh about it, because it’s silly and true. When we get to school, we rush to our homerooms but not before he hugs me in the hallway, longer than he probably should. He whispers in my ear that he loves me. Out of everyone, today I needed that from him. He knows me. He’s Ducks.
Ryan sees Ducks and me and turns and walks in the opposite direction. He walks as fast as he can without running, but I can tell that he wants to get far away from us and fast. It isn’t until after third period that I catch up with him. I follow him to his locker and stare at him until he turns and talks to me.
“What?” he says, not looking at me.
“Can we, like, please talk?” I plead a little.
“Now you want to talk? It’s cool, Sophie,” he says, closing his locker. “It’s fine. You don’t like me. I get it. You’re a liar.”
“How am I a liar?” I ask. I mean I know how I am at times, but he doesn’t know that. At least I don’t think he does.
“You say you like me but you, like, obviously don’t,” Ryan says, holding on to his locker door.
I want to tell him I never lied to him, that I did like him. I liked kissing him. I liked walking home with him, and talking to him, and listening to him. It’s more about stuff he doesn’t know, and I’m sorry for that, sorry that it affects him, but I can’t do anything about it. And he should try to understand at least a little.
“Just stay away from me, okay?” he says, finally looking at me.
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay.” He slams his locker and then he’s gone. I walk down the hall and catch Allegra staring at me from the other side of the hallway. She looks sadder than I do. She hurries to close her locker and get away from me. I’m sure she’ll talk to me later.
And at the end of the day, just like that, she’s walking me out of school.
“I saw what happened. Are you guys okay?” Allegra asks.
“We’re not together like that,” I answer, walking ahead of her.
“Th
is is all about your Halloween costume? Why not just go as a zombie nurse?” she asks, following me.
“It’s not about that at all. I’m not even going to Brian’s tomorrow,” I say, not turning to look at her. “And I don’t want to.”
“It’s going to be, like, the Best Evah,” Allegra says from behind me.
“You can go if you want,” I say, not knowing if she’s still following but pretty sure she is. I’m the one that’s over it now. She can’t go without me. I’m sorry for her, and sorry about it, but I’m not going. And she should know that.
Allegra says, “Well, I will.” Pushing past me, she gets into a cab. I walk home with Ducks, who doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to.
CHAPTER 26
That night when I get home, Auntie’s cooking a big meal. It fills the whole house with the smell of warm paprika and chicken. It’s a smell that makes you want to forget everything else around you, and that’s exactly what I need.
Auntie talks to me a lot about the move, in a hurried way, like she’s nervous someone will hear her, even though it’s just the two of us. She tells me about the new school and how soon I will have to get ready to start all over. I need to start thinking about what I want to bring too. There’s not a lot of room, but there’s enough. She can make space. She will make space for me.
I know it’s a lot, but for some reason, I’m not the smallest bit worried. Even when we talk about Janet.
“And when she gets home, I will just lay it out for her,” Auntie says, sort of angry but still a little nervous.
“When does she get home?” I ask. It’s been longer than any other trip she’s taken, and to not have heard from her is really strange. It’s also been nice.
“Soon.” Auntie Amara half smiles. “Maybe this weekend.”
“Well, what does that mean?” I ask, catching some of her nervousness now. “Do we go before she gets here? What are we going to say?”
“I will take care of it, baby. She’ll want what’s best for you. She’ll be all right.” Auntie smiles, touching my cheek. “Now let’s get started on this project. First, show me how you’re going to dress up like me. If that’s still what you’ve decided,” Auntie says.
“It is,” I answer.
“Well, if you’re going to be me, I don’t want any pillow stuffing covering your skinny behind.” Auntie laughs as loud as she can.
I run upstairs to my room to grab the long white skirt and peasant shirt I was thinking of wearing. I have a few scarves to wrap up my hair, and I’m thinking about letting a few braids hang down from the wrap, just like Auntie always does. When I show her what I’m going to wear, she shakes her head and says I need something else. She takes a strand of her dreads from the back and cuts one off for me.
“Dangle that instead.” She smiles.
The little graying tube sits in my hand for a long time. It’s so strange to hold a part of another person, but it still feels so very okay. I start writing down her details, leaving the dread at the top of the page as I write.
Dr. Amara Watley, born April 20, 1970 in Baltimore.
Graduated Spelman College in 1992.
Earned her doctorate in 1999.
She writes books and teaches at CUNY.
She’s never been married, but she lived with a man for a while.
“I don’t know what I think about marriage.” Auntie Amara laughs.
For the rest of the night, I ask Auntie about her life, writing down all the details she’ll give me. So much of it I don’t know.
She tells me how she’s trying to make the world a safer, more welcoming place for all women, but especially black women. She says this to me in a much smarter way, but I’m so wrapped up in listening to her that I can’t get it down fast enough, when I remember to write at all.
She tells me about school, about her students, and her publishers.
“What are you proudest of?” I ask her.
“Oh, baby, I don’t know.” Auntie laughs. “Not much I’ve done. I mean, I write and I get my ideas out there, and I’m proud to have that platform, to be entrusted to speak for people. But what makes me proud is something different.
“I’m proud when a beautiful black girl in my class writes a poem about loving herself. I’m proud when she wins an Oscar or she gets into med school or she can hug her kids tight in her own house and not worry about them being killed by the police.
“And I’m the proudest when she knows her own beauty. Not that I take responsibility for that. I wouldn’t.”
“Being pretty?” I ask, so confused and only wanting more answers.
“No. Pretty is a dish or a cake, baby. It’s something you call an ornament. Beauty comes from what we do, what we have the right and the vision to do and to be. Beauty is how you talk about tools. Pretty is how you talk about Christmas lights.”
“I want that,” I say, half to myself.
But she hears and lifts up my face with her hand, and says, “Girl, you already got it. You’re beautiful to me.”
School passes in a flash, with half the kids dressed up in costumes and half not. Everyone’s excited about getting out of school and going wherever they can to get candy or hang out with friends. Allegra walks around in a Catwoman costume, telling almost anyone that will listen that she’s going to Brian’s tonight. It’s going to be the Best Evah.
I ignore her because I know it’s a show now, or that’s she’s waiting for me to cave and take her. I know she’s thinking the more she tells people and talks up the whole thing, the more I will want to go, but she’s just plain wrong. It’s almost like she doesn’t know me at all.
After school, Ellen, in her plaid shirt and mustache, meets me and Ducks on the street. She’s loving being Ron Swanson from Parks and Rec, barking out orders at us and being a guy’s guy. Ducks won’t even put on his dog ears and snout until we get to her house. He has the blue collar and he turns this weird shirt with Cool Dude written all over it inside out, because it’s brown. He looks something like Scooby, but not really. I’m sort of flattered that he wanted to match me and I’m not even Daphne now.
My costume is good, but not perfect. The purple dress in Shelley’s window fit me, and I had enough money to buy it. It just didn’t feel like me. It didn’t even feel like a pretend me. The red wig was worse. When I tried it on this morning, it just looked so plastic and it covered up my braids, which I love. I decided not to wear any of it. I just threw on some kitten ears and a black dress, and now I’m a kitty. Maybe Ducks and I can still match. He can just be a dog, he doesn’t need to be Scooby. He doesn’t even seem to notice.
I feel bad for a minute about not being a zombie nurse after all. But the truth is none of that mattered, or mattered as much as I thought. Being heard was much more important.
Ellen’s little sister, Hannah, attacks us as soon as we get through their front door. She’s so excited about being a ballerina and getting candy that I think she’s about to bust right open. She doesn’t want to wear her sweater over her tutu, like her nanny, Rosalinda, wants her to, but Ellen makes her. Hannah wants to go now, but Ellen reminds her that we have to wait for Charlie.
“Charlie’s coming?” Ducks perks up from the couch. One of his dog ears almost flips up, which makes us all laugh.
“Yes, son. He is,” Ellen says in her deepest Ron voice.
On the street, kids are running around, laughing and screaming in all sorts of masks and makeup. We all have flashlights and jackets, but Hannah, without any light, runs the fastest, thinking about all the candy she’s soon going to fill her pumpkin bucket with.
Me and Ellen walk together, with Charlie and Ducks right behind us. They’re talking to each other a lot, and not in a way that we’re invited to hear. Usually Ducks would at least ask what me and Ellen thought about something or how much farther we have to go or how much longer we’re going to stay out. Bu
t he’s just happy talking to Charlie. They’re even laughing, and though I’m not invited, it still makes me happy just to be a silent part of it.
I start to worry about Allegra, so I text her.
Hey
Hey
Happy Halloween
Thanks
I’m out with Ellen and Ducks
I think we’re going to walk with Ellen’s sister and then head back for pizza. Do you want to come?
No. Besides they don’t even like me.
They do. They totally do.
It’s cool. have fun though.
Ok. Happy Halloween
By the end of the night, Hannah has more candy than she can carry. She’s the tiredest and happiest little ballerina you’ve ever seen. We drop Ellen and her off. Charlie stays with Ellen for a while longer, but Ducks and I ride home together in a cab without saying much. There’s not much to say, until Ducks asks, “Are you going to tell Ellen you’re leaving?”
“Yeah. Of course. And I’m not, like, moving moving, I’m just going to Harlem.”
“And a different school,” Ducks says.
“Yeah,” I say, looking for how close we are to getting home and out of this car.
“I don’t want you to go, you know,” Ducks says. “But I don’t want you to stay either.”
I don’t say anything but squeeze his hand as we stop in front of his house and he gets out.
“Thanks,” I say from my side of the back seat.
“Walk tomorrow?” Ducks asks from the door. I tell him sure.
Even though it’s only a few houses away, the car drives me up. The lights in the front room are on, which means Auntie must be waiting for me. That makes me so happy, I run up the front stairs two at a time.
I run in the side door with a big yell. “I’m home.” But something’s different. Even something in the air is different.
“Baby, come in here,” says Janet from the living room.
CHAPTER 27