by L. Divine
“Yes ma’am.” I reluctantly take the heavy plates and put them in the sink. I want to throw down now. How come Jay gets to sleep all day and as soon as I walk in the door, Mama’s got work for me?
“What’s that look on your face, Jayd?” Mama says, dishing out rice and vegetables on a plate—for Jay, I assume.
“Mama, how come you didn’t tell Jay to wash the dishes?” I already know she’s going to say I’m whining or something like that. But I’m tired of the men skating on easy around here—and everywhere else, from what I can see.
“Girl, stop complaining and dry those dishes off. Here’s your plate, Jay. Make it good because that’s all you’re getting,” she says, passing him his dinner. He attempts to come in the kitchen, but Mama blocks his way.
“Can a brotha at least get some hot sauce?” he says. Mama opens the cabinet above the counter and passes him a bottle of Red Rooster. “Thank you,” he says, taking his usual seat on the couch to watch MTV for the remainder of the evening. I hardly ever get to watch television when I’m here. Jay never brings home any homework on the weekends, unlike myself. I don’t believe that Compton High doesn’t give it out as much as Jay chooses not to do it. He’s probably the most nonchalant teenager I know.
“Jayd, we’ve got work to do. I know you feel like I make you work harder than the boys and you’re right,” she says, taking the three clean plates and putting them on the table before piling them with food. “I expect more from you because the world does. So get used to constantly working: that’s what women do, especially mothers.” I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Mama gives no sympathy when it comes to getting work done.
“Can I eat dinner?” I ask. Mama stops what she’s doing, puts her hands on her hips and gives me a look that says, “I know you didn’t ask me that silly-ass question.”
“Pick up the plates and take them to the shrine.” I follow Mama into her room and put the plates down on the floor beside Mama’s bed. She’s decorated the shrine lavishly in hues of orange, yellow, and gold for our deity, Oshune. There are also two mini shrines on the floor: one is all white and the other is decorated with red and black cloth.
“Mama, who are these for?” I ask, placing a plate of food on each shrine, as her finger directs exactly what goes where.
“You tell me,” she says, giving me an impromptu quiz. She never quits. “When we feed the ancestors, what colors do we use?”
“White and silver,” I say. That was easy, and one of the first lessons I learned when I started studying with Mama.
“Very good,” she says as I walk around her bed and stand next to mine, watching as Mama lights the yellow and white candles on the shrine. She takes a red candle out and puts it next to the red and black shrine on the floor. I notice there is also a stone figure with three cowry shells inside it, sitting on a clay plate and decorated with candy and toys.
“Mama, that is new. Who’s it for?” I ask, ready to go back into the kitchen and fix my own plate. But the shrine looks beautiful and she’s done a lot of work to it over the weekend. I know it has something to do with Esmeralda.
“That’s Legba, my father Orisha,” she says, smiling as she bends down to put the tall seven-day candle on the floor next to the clay plate. “He opens the roads, moves obstacles, and much, much more.” Now I see the connection: she wants to get Esmeralda out of the neighborhood for good. I knew Mama would handle it like only she can.
“That’s what I’m talking about, Mama. Can he help a sistah out? I’ve got some roads and obstacles to deal with myself.”
“Of course he can, baby. You’ve got to be ready for the sacrifice, though. There is no gain without giving. Netta and I have been working all weekend to get rid of the negative energy around this house,” she says, glancing in the direction of Esmeralda’s house. “I’m begging for that woman to be forced out of here, one way or another.”
“I will help in any way that I can,” I say, following Mama back into the kitchen to eat our dinner, I hope.
“You can help by studying your lessons and keeping out of Esmeralda’s sight—literally. Help yourself to the food, Jayd. The rest of this feast is ours.”
I’m happy to study my lessons tonight. My plan is to camp out in the spirit room for the rest of the evening. I’m determined to help Rah get out of his relationship with Trish and keep his head on his shoulders. I don’t know anything about her brother, but if he’s anything like her, I don’t like him already. I also want to see if there’s anything I can do to help Misty out. She’s far from my favorite person. But if her family’s involved with Esmeralda in any way, Misty needs my help, whether she knows it or not.
The usual suspects are hanging at the bus stop this morning, leaving no space for me to rest my weary bones. I stayed up until midnight working on my schoolwork and searching through the spirit book for some guidance. I finished my homework, but I need to keep looking for something to help Misty and Rah out of their self-made hells. Speak of the devil, Misty’s taking my bus this morning. Usually she catches the bus off of Central rather than walk up to Wilmington like I do. It’s a longer stroll, but it’s more peaceful and I can avoid sitting with Misty for at least one of the three rides.
“Good morning,” I say as she stands next to me. There are several people around and I know her well enough to know she doesn’t like to be alone in a crowd.
“Why are you talking to me?” Misty says. And, I have to agree. Why am I talking to her?
“I heard about your grandmother and I wanted to offer my condolences for you and your mother.” That’s enough talking for now, and she can stand alone for all I care. Before I walk over to the other side of the stop, I notice Misty’s eyes look sunken, like she hasn’t slept or eaten in days. I wonder how she’s really doing and how much longer she and her mom will be able to stay in their house. With her grandmother’s passing, they have no legal rights to the house and will be out on the streets soon. I know her mom doesn’t make much as a part-time secretary at our school, so she won’t be able to pay the rent alone. And Misty getting a job is out of the question because she doesn’t like manual labor, as she calls it.
“Jayd,” Misty says. I turn back and look down at her. I almost forgot she makes my short-ass feel tall. “Thank you,” she says as the bus rolls up. Misty takes out her bus pass and passes me up to get in line. Her thank you was sincere and her eyes sad. Now I feel even more of an urgency to help the girl out. But, knowing Misty, she won’t make it easy.
“Did you have to take the bus with her again?” Mickey says, snacking on bag of popcorn before the bell rings. It’s been a slow Monday so far. But it’s only break and anything’s bound to happen.
“Yes, I did. I don’t know what’s going on with her and KJ. If that’s his girl, shouldn’t he be giving her a ride?”
“Now you know that was never his girl,” Nellie says, completely engulfed in her bitch book, but not too preoccupied to keep up with the conversation.
“Yeah, there’s a big difference between a girlfriend and a ho.” Damn, Mickey has no love for Misty whatsoever, and I can’t blame her. They’ve been enemies the entire time we’ve been at Drama High.
“There’s KJ now. Why don’t you ask him why he can’t give Misty a ride anymore?” Nellie says, laughing at her own joke. But KJ looks anything but funny as he walks up to Misty and grabs her by the arm, snatching her up out of her seat and shocking everyone around South Central. What the hell?
“Where the hell have you been?” KJ shouts at her. I guess he’s in the dark just like the rest of us. “I’ve been calling you all weekend. Didn’t you get my messages?”
“Damn, KJ man, back off,” C Money says as he and Del step in between Misty and their boy. Something’s not right with Misty, and it’s more than her grandmother’s passing. She seems out of it, like she’s not in her body or something. I know her well enough to know she wouldn’t normally allow anyone to touch her like that without saying something, not even her beloved K
J.
“I’ll be right back, y’all,” I say, rising from our bench and marching over to South Central. I know this is none of my business, but this fight is unfair and Misty doesn’t have any girls to back her up. I can’t watch her get humiliated like this, especially when she’s not herself.
“Jayd, what are you doing? I know you’re not going to help that girl,” Mickey calls out after me. But I’m on a mission. I don’t care if everyone else around me wants to see the drama unfold. I’m not standing by and watching nobody get beat down unfairly, especially not a girl by a dude. I don’t see how my neighbors at home can stand by and watch when my uncles get into it. I’m like Mama when it comes to most things, especially abuse. And, like she says, I don’t care what people do when they go home, but I’ll be damned if I’ll watch someone suffer in my hood.
“KJ, why don’t you pick on someone your own size,” I say. Everyone’s staring at me while I stand by Misty’s side as his boys try and calm him down. By the look in KJ’s eyes, I’ve just added fuel to his fire.
“Did I miss something?” Shae says from her table where she and her silent man, Tony, are seated. “When did you become Misty’s cheerleader?”
“The real question is, why aren’t you?” I say, not backing down from the queen of this clique. Thank God I’ve never been a member.
“Why don’t you mind your business,” KJ says, still holding Misty’s arm. She hasn’t moved a muscle. I need to get her out of here and fast.
“Any time a dude feels like snatching up a girl, it is my business,” I say, putting my hand on top of his. The bell rings and everyone is frozen in place, waiting to see what will happen next.
“Jayd, back off,” KJ says, taking his other hand and removing mine from his. He should know better than to try and scare me. I put my hand back on his and grab it tightly. If I had Mickey’s nails, he’d be bleeding by now.
“Go to class, KJ,” I say. Everyone around gasps as the tension rises and Misty’s still motionless. Chance and Nigel come over from the main quad and stand behind me. Nellie and Mickey follow suit. KJ, noticing the vibe is out of his control, finally lets go and storms off to class.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Mickey says as they head to class.
“You should talk,” Nigel says to Mickey, and they are at it again. I can’t get caught up in their drama today. I have to figure out a way to help Misty, and fast. She’s in no condition to be at school. I know her mom didn’t come to work again today, so how am I going to get this girl home? Mama. If I call her and tell her I need to come home and bring Misty with me, she’ll know it’s an emergency—no questions asked. And that’s just what I’m going to do.
“Get that girl in here now,” Mama says, meeting us on the porch and cloaking Misty in a blanket. It’s a chilly day and Misty’s dressed like it’s summertime. “What happened to her?” When Misty walks into our house, she sits down on the couch and looks around the room. It’s as if she’s never been to my house before, even though she used to hang out here often when we were friends. Everything seems new to her.
“I don’t know, but she’s not herself at all.” Mama takes one look at Misty and sits down on the couch. She looks worried and scared at the same time. I’ve never seen Mama look like this before. Something must be very wrong to turn Mama gray.
“Esmeralda,” Mama whispers. Her eyes wander out the window, staring at her enemy’s house. She’s got to be the one to leave the neighborhood, not Misty. I know Mama’s got more tricks up her sleeve than she reveals, and so do I. I don’t know what they are yet. But I’m going to find out before I go to sleep tonight. Enough is enough.
12
Trickin’
“I’m trickin’ and I ain’t making five hundred dollars/ What the hell fool?”
—LEXUS/HUSTLE & FLOW SOUNDTRACK
Mama’s been in the spirit room for over an hour. She told me to stay with Misty, who’s fast asleep on the sofa. She didn’t want to eat or drink anything, but I’m hungry and there are leftovers from last night’s fish dinner: just enough for one. And General Hospital is good today. Sonny and Carly are at it again, and Jason’s right in the middle of it all, as usual. That’s one thing I love about the soaps: if you miss them for a day or a year they’re easy to catch up with.
“Jayd, what am I doing in your house?” Misty asks as she slowly comes back to life. “And what’s that foul smell?”
“Fish. Do you want some?” I must be in a good mood to offer this girl a bite of my food, especially red snapper and hush puppies. If Misty didn’t look so weak I wouldn’t offer her a damn thing.
“No. I don’t have much of an appetite. And you didn’t answer my question. What am I doing here?” I knew she would be ungrateful, but forgetful I wasn’t expecting. I hope Mama found something to help Misty, because she’s really freaking me out. I can’t believe I’m thinking this way, but I want the old Misty back.
“I see someone’s feeling better,” Mama says, coming into the kitchen with what looks like a pitcher of lemonade. “Would you like something cold to drink, baby? It will make you feel better.” At first I want to ask for a glass myself. However, the look on Mama’s face tells me this drink—like the cats’ breakfast—wasn’t made for me.
“Thanks, Mrs. James,” Misty says, accepting the tall glass Mama poured her. She drinks the cold potion down in three swift gulps. Mama promptly refills her glass for round two, smiling the entire time.
I can tell Mama’s been up to more than juicing lemons by the way she’s looking both at Misty and past her at Esmeralda’s house. “I’m so sorry to hear about your grandmother,” Mama says. Misty just nods her head and keeps drinking the lemonade like it’s the best she’s ever tasted. “So, how’s your mom dealing with everything?”
“She’s dealing,” Misty says. “I should probably call her and let her know where I am,” she says, nervously patting herself down, searching for her cell.
“It’s in your purse,” I say, passing her the heavy bag from the floor by the dining room table. Noticing the door open across the driveway, I look at Mama, who instinctively walks over to where I’m standing so she can see what I see: Esmeralda coming out onto her porch. Mama smiles a sinister grin, removes her apron and steps out onto the front porch.
“Thank you, Jayd,” Misty says, taking her bag while I walk back to the front door to serve as a witness for the spiritual ass-whipping Esmeralda’s about to get.
“Did I see Misty Truewell walk through your front door this morning?” Esmeralda says, almost whispering. Her cats surround her as if to serve as a force field to protect her from Mama’s energy. I hope she knows by now that there’s nothing that can protect her from my grandmother. Once she’s got her eyes set on something, it’s hers, good or bad. And, right now, Mama only has eyes for Esmeralda. “You know her people don’t want you near that girl.”
“What goes on in my house is my business. And I told you to mind yours a long time ago. You should’ve heeded my warning then,” Mama says as she folds her arms across her chest, ready to fight. In her language, crossing your arms is tantamount to me taking my earrings off when it’s time to get down. Before things can get real good, Misty joins us on the porch, purse and backpack in hand.
“My mom wants me to wait for her next door. Thank you for your hospitality,” she says, almost pushing me out of her way as she practically runs across the way to our neighbor’s house. Esmeralda opens the gate, letting Misty in, and promptly closes it behind her. She looks victorious, like she’s just won the battle between her and Mama. But little does she know the war has only just begun. And Mama never loses.
“What was in that lemonade?” I ask her as I run my bath water before the rest of my uncles get home. Even with the short day at school it was still tiring, and I plan on turning in early tonight. By leaving at third period I missed the majority of my classes and drama rehearsal. But I did get my weekly assignments from English and I was able to finish the majority of the
m after Misty left a few hours ago.
“Water, lemons, and sugar, with a touch of honey,” Mama says while filing her nails while standing in the bathroom doorway. I hope she gets some rest tonight and turns in even before I do.
“Well, how come I couldn’t have any? I was thirsty too,” I say, taking Mama’s Esacada bubble bath and pouring it into my bath. I return the bottle to the medicine cabinet and she glares at me like I stole something.
“Because it wasn’t for you. But there’s plenty left in the refrigerator. Knock yourself out.” I walk out of Mama’s room and grab my toiletries and pajamas from Daddy’s room, interrupting Jay and Bryan, obviously talking about something they don’t want me to hear because they stop chatting as soon as I walk in. Who says dudes don’t gossip? I walk back to Mama’s room to finish our conversation before I soak my stress away in the tub.
“Come on, tell me what you gave to Misty,” I say, wanting the full scoop.
“I just put some special honey in it to make her sweeter, so she wouldn’t go off completely when she came to. You bringing her here wasn’t the best idea, Jayd,” Mama says, reaching across her bed to get a small vial of pink liquid from the shrine. “Put this in your bathwater. It’ll help cleanse you from whatever’s riding Misty.” See, I knew she was up to something. I guess I can’t be privy to everything Mama does. But I wish I could know more, for my own use. I still haven’t been able to work on a remedy for Rah’s problem, but I think Mama’s got Misty’s issues on lock.
“Well then, why did you let us come home?” I open the small bottle and take a whiff of the potion. It smells like cotton candy.
“Because of the urgency in your voice. Jayd, what you need to understand is that people have to desire our help for themselves. Misty’s under Esmeralda’s influence, which means there’s nothing I can do for her unless she asks me to. Now yes, I could make a gris-gris for her or slip her a potion, but that would make me no better than Esmeralda, and that’s not my style.”