Shortie Like Mine

by Ni-Ni Simone

  “Which is it?”

  “He lives alone but he’s not eighteen?”

  “What?! How old is he?”

  “Maaaa ...”

  “Girl” ... By this time my mother’s breath was hitting my nose and it didn’t smell too good.

  “Ma”—I covered my nose—“did you brush your teeth?”

  My mother raised her hand back. “Ai’ight.” I spit out his age. “He’s twenty!”

  “Twenty?! I’ma kill her. Let’s go!”

  “Well, if you gon’ kill her, Ma, I don’t want to go. Let me remember her the way she was.”

  She stood silent and shot me a dagger with her eyes. Three things I knew: when she stopped talking, gave me the evil eye, or started repeating herself, she was due to explode any minute. I started chewing the inside of my cheek. “Should I wear all black?” and then I gave a stupid laugh. I just thought I would say something to lighten the mood. It didn’t work.

  I begged my mother to call one of my uncles or all four of them but for some reason she thought she was G.I. Jane and that her taped-up bat had something to prove.

  Nye was live when my mother parked her black Ford Taurus in front of Qua’s house. There were people on practically every porch in his neighborhood: dancing, smoking, and drinking. The blocks were lined with folks of all ages—fiends, detectives, and narcs. The bodega had pulled down its steel gates and was now selling loose cigarettes and candy through bulletproof glass and a turnaround. Half of the street lamps seemed to be taking the night off ... and here was my mother, Captain Save-the-Day, with a pink housecoat wrapped around her like a cyclone and doobie pins in her hair ... and here I was, the dumb lil’ sidekick.

  I couldn’t believe this. I had a good mind to beat-down my sister myself. I told her time and time again she was going to get in trouble and to stop staying out all night. I told her and I told her ... and what did she do? She did what she wanted to do and now she’s turned my mother into a raving lunatic in matted bedroom shoes flopping against the concrete.

  “All I try and do ...” my mother said as we walked onto Qua’s porch. “It’s just never enough, is it, Seven? Y’all just running around in the streets buck wild like two lil’ hooligans.”

  “Ma, I didn’t do nothin’.”

  “Shut up, ’cause you were thinkin’ somethin’ when I walked in that room. I swear, I try ... and I try ... and I try ... and I try ...”

  Oh God, she was repeating herself.

  “... And I try and what do I get in return? Children who lie to me and stay out all night!”

  “I was in the bed. I come home every night!”

  “Did I give you permission to talk?! Now, ring the bell!”

  “Ma, we’re right here,” I said as we stood in front of the door. “Can’t we just call her and tell her to come outside.”

  My mother pushed me on my shoulder. “Ring that bell.” I hated that Toi’s life had to end like this.

  I rang the bell. “Who is it?” a deep voice yelled from behind.

  “Qua, this is Seven. Is my sister there?”

  “This not Qua, but hold up.” A few seconds later the front door opened up and it seemed that the party from outside had drifted in here. The room was filled with Qua’s boys, the TV was extremely loud and turned to ESPN, and Jay-Z and Beyoncé’s “Bonnie and Clyde” was bumpin’ through the Bose speakers. There was alcohol all about, with open bottles of Seagram’s Seven gin and juice mix, Thug Passion, and passion fruit Alizé. And the air smelled like weed. “Wassup, Ma?” Qua said as he stood in the doorway.

  “A whole lot gon’ be up,” my mother said as she stormed in, “if Toi Sharee McKnight ... don’t get her ass out here! Right now!”

  “Yo,” one of Qua’s boys said, “I thought Shortie said she ain’t have no sisters.” He looked my mother up and down. “I’m sayin’, though, what’s good with you boo. You easy like your sister in the other room?”

  “Lil’ boy, I will hurt you! Toi, get yo’ grown ass out here right goddamit now!”

  “Hold up,” Qua said, “you can chill with all that—”

  “Ma.” Toi came stumbling out of Qua’s bedroom with her clothes twisted every which way but the right way, holding her shoes in her hand.

  She is so stupid.

  “Get your things!” my mother said with tears streaming from her eyes, but with a stern voice that dared anybody to try her. Qua just stood there looking at my mother like she was crazy. “You know you ain’t got to leave, right?” he said to Toi as if he were ghettohood defending Boom-Kiki’s honor.

  My sister looked at him filled with amazement. “What?”

  “Get your things!” my mother said more as a warning than a statement. “And let’s go, Toi.”

  “I said,” Qua stressed, “you ain’t gotta go nowhere.” His looks seemed to shoot straight through my mother. “You cool right where you are.” Then he looked at Toi, “I told you, I love you, girl.”

  “Ma ...” Toi cocked her neck and spoke as if she were liberated and was now going to flex on my mother, yet I could still hear nervousness in her voice. Now I knew for sure she superseded dumb. “I don’t appreciate how you came up in here and I think you need to just—”

  “Need to just what?” My mother lifted her bat in the air. “Whip yo’ retarded azz? If you think I’m leaving here without you, you even dumber than I thought, ’cause by the time I get finished with you, you’ll be molly-whopped all over this spot. Now try me! You ain’t got to go,” my mother screamed, mocking them sarcastically. “And you don’t appreciate. . . What don’t you appreciate, Toi?! Huh? I don’t appreciate having to go through forty-eight hours, thirty-nine minutes, and seventeen seconds of labor with you!

  “I don’t appreciate you coloring on my white walls when you were five. I don’t appreciate you peeing in the bed until you were ten and I had to clean your pissy behind. What you don’t appreciate! I don’t appreciate having to spend all my damn money on some lil’ ungrateful child who grew up to be a tramp and now she thinks she can stand up in my face like she’s a woman and tell me where she is and ain’t going ’cause she’s listening to some triflin’ nothin’ of a dope dealer who can’t even hustle his way out a paper bag, let alone off Nye Avenue. No good—dirty dog—I wish you would stand up here and talk to me crazy ’cause I promise you, I will whip, wop, and bop yo’ azz all over this floor!” She mushed Toi in the head. “Now, I said let’s go!”

  I was hoping Toi didn’t flex anymore and really try to stay here with Qua, because from what I could see my mother was prepared to bury both of them at any moment.

  “Don’t hurt nobody in that housecoat, big mama, wit’ yo’ sexy self,” some of Qua’s boys said as my mother snatched Toi by her shoulder and practically pushed her out the door.

  From inside, Qua’s boys shouted after my mama: “Look at you, girl, it’s your world, girl ... Yo, son, I wanna see Mama in the daylight.” Another one said, “Mom, Dukes, forget lil’ shortie duwap, why don’t you punish me ...!” and on they went.

  My mother shoved Toi in the backseat of the car, slammed the door, and we took off. “How could you do this to me?” Toi screamed. “How could you?” she screamed again.

  “Don’t scream no more.” My mother looked at her in the rearview mirror. “Not up in here. I’m warning you, don’t do it.”

  “YOU HAVE RUINED MY LIFE!!!!!”

  I was convinced Toi had lost her mind.

  My mother pulled the car over so fast I just knew I had whiplash. As the tires came to a screeching halt, all I could do was close my eyes and pray my sister survived. My mother threw the car in park, turned around backwards, got on her knees, reached behind the seat, and all I heard was WHAP, BAP, BOOM! Then my mother turned back around and looked at her nails. “You be lucky I didn’t break one!” Then she lit a cigarette and looked in the rearview mirror before taking off.

  I was too scared to look in the backseat for fear that my sister was dead, but when I heard her sniffling,
like she was suppressing the urge to wail, I knew she’d survived the beat-down.

  When we got home, Cousin Shake was laying on the couch in a too-tight smoking jacket and long johns, pretending to be asleep, but it was obvious he wasn’t, especially since he kept peeking at Toi with one eye half open while laughing out the side of his lips like a hissing snake.

  My mother looked at Toi and spoke calmly, “I’m not gon’ let you work my nerves anymore than what they are—yo’ daddy is on ’em enough. But let me inform you of this: I brought you into this world and I will gladly take you out. If you ever let another man, excuse me, another boy stand up in my face and even attempt to ever get you to disrespect me, I’ma beat the living crap outta you. ’Cause from where I stand, you seem to have forgotten who gave birth to who. I’m the mother and father up in this piece and the only other grown one is Cousin Shake. You just sixteen, and in my house that doesn’t make you an adult. And don’t think you gon’ break bad and storm outta here like you running away, ’cause that ain’t an option either. You gon’ stay here and get it together like you have some sense. Period. And no, we ain’t discussing this. There’s no reasoning you can do with me, and before you say it, I don’t care to understand how you feel. We’re not equals, so I’ma forewarn you not to break bad by getting up in my face! And the next time you yell at me, I’ma tear ya throat out! Now, you will leave that grown man alone, ’cause if I catch you with him, I’m calling the police on him and you can bet your bottom dollar on that!

  “Now, what you gon’ do is be in this house everyday after school. Don’t ask me to go nowhere because the answer is no. Don’t get on that phone, don’t do nothing but go to school and come home. Do you understand me?!”

  Silence.

  “I said do you understand me?!”

  More silence.

  I think Toi’s mind has left the building.

  My mother walked up to her and stood directly in her face, my mother’s head towering over Toi’s just a little. “Do you understand me?!”

  “Yes,” she mumbled as her chest heaved up and down.

  “That’s what I thought, now give me that cell phone and go to your room.” Toi handed her the phone and started walking away. “And don’t slam no door you ain’t pay for!” my mother yelled behind her.

  I stood looking around the living room before I thought to move. “Uhmm, is it okay?”—I pointed to the doorway—“if ... if I—”

  “Just go!” my mother screamed, “ ’cause you have worked my nerves, too!”

  “Witcha grown self!” Cousin Shake yelled as I walked out the room.

  I went in our bedroom and Toi was in her bed crying into her pillow. When I closed the door, she turned over and looked at the ceiling. “Why would she do that to me? Ever since Daddy left she’s been a mad woman! I can’t stand her!”

  “You don’t listen, Toi. I told you Mommy was gon’ flip.”

  “I didn’t think she would show up at his house,” she sniffed. “And I can’t believe you told her where he lived.”

  “Believe it. You must not know about Grier McKnight. I was not about to die up in here protecting you.”

  “Whatever, Seven.”

  “Don’t take it out on me. ’Cause quite frankly, you played yourself. You slept on Mommy and then you hangin’ with Quamir. He knows how old you are. He knows you’re still in high school and he doesn’t even care.”

  “Don’t ever in your life talk about whether my man cares or not. You just mad because Josiah don’t want yo’ elephant behind!”

  I cut the light back on because I had to see this for myself. “You have lost yo’ rabbit-behind mind, talkin’ to me crazy. Don’t be mad with me because you can’t be a jump-off in peace! I don’t know who you think you talkin’ to, but you gon’ get up offa me, ’cause I know the real deal and I’ll give you what Mommy didn’t. Trust and believe you don’t want it wit’ me homegirl, for real-for real!”

  “Whatever ... that’s my dude and I’m not leaving him alone. You just mad because you don’t have a man and Mommy is mad because hers left!”

  “Girl, let’s blow this popsicle stick, ’cause you sound ’bout as stupid as they come. ’Cause if you think Quamir is any better than Daddy, you better think again. At least Daddy still takes care of us. What Quamir gon’ do when he gets you knocked up? The same thing he did with his two other baby mamas ... leave!”

  “Whatever. I forgot you were a little girl.”

  “Yeah, whatever. I forgot you were grown.” I flicked off the light and lay down to sleep.

  6

  You changed the game

  I liked it thug style ...

  —CIARA, “THUG STYLE”

  We were on lockdown, Cousin Shake was the warden, and the only one allowed in the yard or the movie room was Man-Man.

  Although Toi didn’t flat out say sorry, she apologized by going to Mi-Mi’s, coming back and hooking up my hair with a part down the middle and two fish braids on the side. And here I was again, fly to death. All week Shae was sweatin’ me, and when I finally told her that Toi did my hair, before I knew it she was over my house this morning with two packs of hair and a comb.

  “Don’t hate, boo.” Shae smiled at me, while Beyoncé’s “Kitty Kat” video played in the background and Toi was putting Ambro gel in Shae’s hair. “I been waitin’ all week. Plus, the game is tonight ... and I’m ’bout to be funky-fresh and fly to death, heyyy!!!!” Shae laughed.

  “Y’all so silly,” Toi said as she gathered one side of Shae’s hair to braid it. “But I gotta admit, y’all be throwin’ it on. But of course, you’re no Toi.”

  “Whatever.” Me and Shae both laughed as the phone rang.

  “Ballin’!” I answered on the first ring.

  “Yo, Shawtie. What you know good, gurl?”

  What the heck was ... Melvin doing on my phone? “No, for real.” I gave a sarcastic laugh. “How’d you get my phone number?” I placed my hand over the receiver and hit the mute button and said, “Yo’ baby daddy on the phone.”

  “Who, Chris Brown?” She turned her head.

  “No.”

  “Mike Jones?” Her eyes popped out.

  “Mike Jones, ill! Heck no, it ain’t Mike Jones.”

  She turned around in her seat. “I know you ain’t got Rick Ross on the line.”

  “Rick Ross?” Toi frowned.

  “Shut up.” Shae laughed. “I like Rick Ross.”

  “I don’t know what kinda taste you got.”

  “Shae, it’s Melvin,” I said as he went on and on in my ear.

  Toi pulled her hair back and looked into her face. “I know you ain’t feeling Big Country?”

  All Shae could do was blush. “I think I love him.”

  Toi fell out laughing. “You have the worst taste in the world.”

  “Shut up.”

  “What is he sayin’?” Shae whispered as Toi began to braid her hair.

  I secretly hit the speaker phone and pressed the mute button as Melvin went on, “Yo, Shawtie, I’m sayin’ though, when we gon’ get this poppin’? ’Cause for real, you startin’ to get on my nerves a lil’ bit. Smell me?”

  “On his nerves. Oh, no, he didn’t?!” Toi cracked up.

  “Is he tryna play me?”

  “I think he already did ... oh, I’m in love.” Shae was grinning from ear to ear. “Now stop playing and do the hook-up.”

  “And you sure Big Country is turning you on?” I asked for confirmation.

  “I’m already calling myself Mrs. Big Country.”

  Toi placed her hand to Shae’s forehead to check for a fever. “You’re sick.”

  “Just do it.” Shae hit me on the arm.

  “Ai’ight. Calm down, and get yo’self together.”

  I took the mute button off. “Melvin—”

  “Please don’t beg and don’t come to school tryna scream on me and please don’t turn into a stalker, ’cause that won’t change my mind.”

  “Ah un rudeness! N
o, you didn’t.”

  “We can be friends though. You good people and er’thang, but it’s like I’ma big fish and you just a squirrel tryna get a nut.”

  “What?”

  “I’m tryin’ not to hurt your feelings but I don’t want a gurl who gon’ be on the porch all her life.”

  “The porch?! You the one from down south!”

  “Ask him if he likes somebody else,” Shae whispered.

  If Shae wasn’t my girl, I promise you I woulda checked Melvin’s chin fo’ sho’. I took a deep breath. “So what you sayin’, you feelin’ somebody else?”

  “Ain’t that obvious, Shawtie? Y’all city chicks don’t take hints. I hate to say it like this, but chicks are all over this.” I could just imagine him rubbing his big sweaty hands all over his body. Somebody shoot me.

  “What chicks?” I sighed.

  “What you all sighing for?”

  “Nothin’ Melvin. Who likes you?”

  “Ciara, Rihanna, Lil’ Kim, Lil’ Mama, and I got some ole birds, too.”

  “Old Birds?”

  “Yeah, Oprah. She and Gayle King be all on me. I tell you I’m puttin’ Stedman Graham and Cory Booker to sleep. Smell me?”

  “What ... are you ... talking about?”

  “Oh, I forgot you ain’t know about me.”

  I hit the mute button and screamed, “Jesus!” I took the mute button off and spoke into the phone, “I mean, in school, Melvin!”

  “Oh, well you know, ya lil’ friend Ki-Ki kicked some slickness to me.”

  Ki-Ki? “What she say?” I asked.

  “Asked me do I like pork chops and gravy.”

  “Pork chops and gravy?” Yuck!

  “Yeah, she said she was gon’ cook me some.”

  “And what you say?”

  “Shawtie, skinny chicks can’t cook. I looked at her and asked her was she crazy? I don’t trust no skinny girl, all them bones she has done stabbed me.”

  I hated that I had to laugh. “And what she say?”

  “She ain’t say nothin’, but Deeyah was standing there and she said I played myself.”

  “Maybe Deeyah was trying to get with you?”