by Ni-Ni Simone
“Cousin Shake ...” I watched him admire himself in the full-length mirror in his bedroom. I knew he thought he was beyond sharp, as he kicked his feet out to check the fat laces in his L.A. Gears. This time though, as he studied his clothes, he didn’t just have on Hammer pants, he had on an entire suit.
“Oh, you couldn’t be talking to me, Fat Mama, because last night when I was watching TV and I asked you to help me dig out the corns on my toes, you told me you’d rather be dead ... so what could you be callin’ me for? You don’t care nothin’ ’bout Cousin Shake.”
“I love you, Cousin Shake.” I thought I would vomit.
“You don’t love me, you love my money.” I didn’t know he had any dough. “Now what you want?”
“I was wondering ... if you ... could—”
“Come on, girl, I got to go. I gotta fifty-year-old tender waitin’ on me to take her to the Ma$e concert and we got front row seats.”
“Ma$e?” Shae said. “Who goes to see Ma$e?”
I shot her the evil eye. “Can you take us to the basketball game at our school?” I asked.
“Take a who? I don’t think I heard correctly,” he said.
“Can you, please”—I sighed—“take us to the basketball game at our school?”
“You and who, Chicken?”
“Yes, Cousin Shake, me and Shae.”
“Oh, y’all wanna go to the game?”
“Yes,” we both said.
“Uhmmm hmmm, so y’all wanna ride in my B.M.Dub’ya? Ain’t this ’bout a blip? I should tell you no, for being so fresh all the time. Look at ya, one lookin’ like a chicken and the other one lookin’ like a bear ... Y’all round here thinkin’ Cousin Shake is a joke, like I’m something to laugh at. But I’ll have you to know I’ma grown man dawg and I don’t appreciate some of the things y’all do.”
“Sorry, Cousin Shake.” I mustered up as much sincerity as I could.
“Yeah, you sorry alright, downright sorry and trifling! But you lucky I’ma Christmas—”
“It’s Christian,” I corrected him.
“You know what I mean, but I’ma forgive ya ... this time ... But the next time I ask you to dig out the hard part of my corns, I expect you and them toenail clippers to come marchin’. You understand, Fat Mama?”
“Yes, Cousin Shake.”
“For tonight, it’s ‘Yes, M.C. Shake.’”
“M.C. Shake?”
“Either you wanna go or you don’t.”
We sighed. “Yes, M.C. Shake.”
“That’s what I thought.” He slid his Men in Black shades on. “Now, make it do what it do ... and let’s go!”
I couldn’t believe we sank this low and were willing to ride around Newark in Cousin Shake’s black hearse, with its gold spinners, leopard bedsheets for seat covers, and red velvet dice hanging around the mirror in the front window.
As soon as we took off, I slid down in the seat. His car was popping wheelies until it got a steady flow and then it took off like a bat outta hell. And the sound of it was unbelievable: it sang its way over Clinton Avenue like a broken motorcycle racing through snow, and what made it worse was that the CD in his CD player was stuck on repeat, and all that belted out of his twenty-two-inch speakers that sat next to Shae in the backseat was Luda’s “Shake Ya Money Maker.” I swear I felt like crying.
“Cousin Shake,” I said about a block before we reached the school, “you can let us off here. We’ll walk the rest of the way.”
“Didn’t you ask me to drop you off at the school?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s what I’m gon’ do. How I’ma explain to your mother that on my way to the Ma$e concert, I dropped you off on the corner? ’Lest that’s what y’all really came out here to do, walk the street corner.”
“Okay, Cousin Shake, but you don’t have to pull up directly in front of the place! Dang!” I should’ve known he would do this. He pulled his hearse directly in front of the school with a crowd of kids standing around, some looking on in amazement and others just laughing.
As I pulled the lever to get out the door, Cousin Shake informed me that the door didn’t open from the inside and the windows didn’t roll down so we would have to do like everybody else and climb our “grown asses out the hatchback!”
“For real, Cousin Shake, this not ATL,” Shae said.
“And we ain’t the twins,” I spat. “I can’t be seen climbing through no hearse’s hatchback! It used to be dead bodies back there!”
“You a lie. Me and my woman ain’t dead,” Cousin Shake insisted.
My eyes popped wide open. The visual he’d just painted was about to send me crazy.
“Cousin Shake, please.” Shae folded her hands over her eyes. “I don’t need to see that.”
“Chicken and Fat Mama,” he said sternly, “y’all minds filled with nothing but filth. That’s exactly why you shoulda stayed on South 14th Street ’steada comin’ here to get ya scrub on. Now I got a lil’ fifty-year-old tender I’m tryna see, so either you gon’ climb out on ya own, or I’ma come and get ya. And if I getcha, I’m fling you into the street.” He grabbed a belt laying on the floor of the hatchback. “Now, tell me what you came to do.” He started swinging the belt like a lasso.
“We gettin’ out,” I said.
“Thought so.”
“Dang!” Deeyah laughed her way to the car. “Y’all really wanted to come to the game, didn’t you?” I wanted to smack her. I looked at Shae, who was behind me. “You better getcha, girl.”
“Bet y’all ain’t screamin’ ballin’ now,” Yaanah said. “If I ain’t feel sorry for you I would laugh.”
“Y’all two gotta problem wit’ my ride?” Cousin Shake looked at them like they were ’bout to catch a beat-down.
“Yeah, you just played yourself,” Deeyah spat.
“Shut up, Deeyah!” I yelled.
“Don’t even worry ’bout it, Fat Mama. Shake got this.” Cousin Shake looked at Deeyah: “Who mo’ played out then yo’ grandmama, with a mouth fulla chipped gold teeth, down there at the senior citizen home, talkin’ ’bout she reppin’ for hoochie life.”
“You don’t even know my grandmother!” Deeyah screamed.
“Yes, I do. All the freaks come out at night. Gon’ call Shake played out. Who mo’ played out than you in all them leg warmers, lookin’ like rainbow-colored pigeon shit. Don’t play with me lil’ girl, ’cause I will turn yo’ fresh behind upside down. Now unless you wanna be put over my knee, you’ll skeet yo’ lil’ cockeyed self on outta here!”
Deeyah looked as if she wanted to cry. She rolled her eyes and she and Yaanah headed on inside.
“That’s what I thought!” Cousin Shake yelled behind her. “You don’t want none of this!” Cousin Shake looked at me and Shae. “Come on, Chicken and Fat Mama, be about it now. Let’s go.”
7
This is why I’m Hot
I’m Hot cause I’m fly ...
—MIMS, “THIS IS WHY I’M HOT”
The music was bumpin’ as the spotlights shot back and forth across the court like a disco ball twirling over the dance floor. Clouds of fake smoke filled the air as the players made their grand entrance to kick off the season. Everybody who was anybody was here, making the gymnasium mad crowded, leaving us with practically nowhere to sit. The bleacher’s top rows were already filled and since we were late we had no choice but to sit on the bottom row, directly off the court, and next to some chick who must’ve been chewing her whole pack of gum at one time.
“Could you ...”—I tried to be as nice as possible—“kinda slow up with poppin’ the gum ... Thank you.”
“Oh, my fault, boo”—and that’s when I realized she was somebody’s mama—“wit’ yo’ cute self.” She smiled at me. “Look at them dimples. Girl, when I was yo’ age, Lawd have mercy, I was ’bout yo’ size and I was straight killin’ ’em all. Lawd knows they had two words for me: Brick house!”
Me and Shae fell out laughing. This lady wa
s trippin’. She had a fly short haircut with spikes at the top and blonde streaks running through it. She wore a pair of jeans and a shirt that read “Josiah’s mama” in rhinestones. Josiah’s mama ... oh ... my ... God.
“Shae.” I tugged on her arm and pointed to the woman’s shirt.
“Oh, that’s a hot ghetto mess!” Shae laughed. “That’s your future mother-in-law. You gon’ have Josiah’s name in rhinestones on your shirt, too. Now be quiet and let’s hear the players be introduced.”
Honestly, the only player I remember being introduced was God’s gift to me: number twenty-three, better known as Mr. Six-foot-two, one hundred seventy pounds, athletically built Josiah Whitaker. He walked on the court so smooth that I promise you all the air had floated out of me and was swept under his feet, which is why I kept striving to breathe.
“If you don’t calm down,” Shae said to me, “you gon’ hyperventilate.”
“Girl, you don’t understand, look at him—”
“I’m lookin’, but I still don’t see what you see, ’cause he way too scronie lookin’ for me. The lil’ daddies I like got to have some meat on ’em.”
“I forgot you were reppin’ for the big boys.”
“All day long, home slice. You better recognize. Now, especially since his Proactiv worked, Melvin can get it any day of the week.”
“I’m ’bout to throw up. Let’s just watch the game.”
The two centers, one from each team, stood in the middle of the court for jump ball to start the game. Everybody was hooping and hollering, “Work it out, Tech!” as our team snatched the ball. Already we were killing it.
I really tried to concentrate on the game, but Josiah’s calf muscles floated up and down in his beautiful brown legs and the flexing of his biceps and triceps was ’bout to send ya girl crazy. Jesus ... Jesus ... Jesus ... was all I could say.
As the coach called a time-out, Shae leaned against my shoulder and whispered, “Three o’-clock.”
When I turned to my right, Deeyah was standing in the corner with Dollah. He was whispering something in Deeyah’s ear and then she whispered something back in his and massaged his goatee, and then he ran back to the bench, where his coach looked to be scolding him.
“I can’t believe,” I said to Shae, “that Deeyah was all hugged up on Dollah like Josiah was invisible. I don’t believe this.”
“Told you she was a ho. You better do the damn thing and step to Josiah. She don’t appreciate him.”
And that was true, she didn’t appreciate him. How could she have spazzed out when she saw us in the hall, but be hugged up in the corner with ole boy, just kickin’ it like it’s nothing.
I looked at Ki-Ki who was sitting behind me. “What’s crackin’ witcha girl?”
“What you care?” Ki-Ki smirked. “That you right there.” She pointed to the court and said, “Handle that.”
I looked back at the court and Josiah was staring at me the same way he was looking at me when he was at my job. After staring at me he looked at Deeyah. I guess he was trying to get his focus back on the game, because when his teammate threw him the ball, he took a shot and missed.
“That’s alright, baby!” his mother shouted, while clapping her hands. “Don’t even worry ’bout it!”
I couldn’t help but wonder if she was talking about Deeyah or the game.
After missing his shot, Josiah tossed the ball to one of the other players, but one of the guys from the opposing team caught it and made a two-point play. I hated that Deeyah was messing up his game. But after a few missed shots, Josiah was back on top and ruling the court. His mother was standing on her feet and kept shouting, “That’s my baby! Do that, baby! Whip ’em, baby! And whip ’em real good!”
At halftime everybody was kickin’ it.
“Ballin’ ... !” Deeyah said to me, smiling and poppin’ gum, with Ki-Ki and Yaanah standing beside her. “I’ma forgive yo’ great grandfather for what he said to me.”
“Whatever.” I blew her off.
“See, and I was coming to give you a compliment,” she said.
“Why are you being nice to me?”
“ ’Cause you look too cute for them to be plus-size clothes, just like a round lil’ chubby ho.” She laughed. “That’s why Josiah was wasting his time talking to you in the hall the other day, ’cause he know round chubby hos don’t get no play.”
“Excuse me.” Josiah’s mother looked at Deeyah and rolled her eyes. “You wanna show some respect?”
“Ill, and who are you?” Deeyah snapped. “Hmph, I don’t remember you being my mama.”
I could tell that Josiah’s mother was ’bout to give Deeyah the business and I was ’bout to take pleasure in this.
“You’re right, I’m not your mama because if I was, you would have some respect and if you know like I know you’ll take your voice down, Miss.”
Deeyah cocked her neck to the side and that was my clue to jump in, ’cause it was obvious these two didn’t know each other. “Excuse me.” I smiled. “Mrs. Whitaker, is it?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Mrs. Whitaker, this is Deeyah, Josiah’s girlfriend ... and Deeyah, this is Mrs. Whitaker, Josiah’s mother.”
“Oh honey, please.” Josiah’s mother rolled her eyes. “No wonder he ain’t never brought you to the house, ’cause he was raised better than to have a has-been in my living room.” She sucked her teeth. “Now.” She turned to me. “Sweetie, watch my bag, please. I’m going to the bathroom.”
“Dang, Deeyah”—I laughed—“I guess it’s official. You really are a has-been.”
“And I guess you really are chubby.”
“Is that all you can say?” I snapped. “Why you don’t think of another comeback?”
“Yeah,” Shae said, “ ’cause on the real she shaped better than yo’ boxed-up behind.”
“Why don’t you mind your own b.i.?” Deeyah spat at Shae.
“How Seven know his mother and you don’t?” Ki-Ki asked Deeyah, like she had an attitude.
“Why you worried about it?!” Deeyah opened her eyes wide and looked at Ki-Ki.
“ ’Cause you’re the one who said you be at his house every weekend and that his mother loved you.”
“Okay, I gotta question for y’all.” She pointed at all of us. It was obvious that Deeyah didn’t appreciate being put on blast. “Why you trippin’ through my business so hard? You need to be worried about your own boyfriends. Oops, I forgot you don’t have any. Now I’m going to get some soda.” And she walked away.
“That’s y’all girl.” Shae sat back down on the bleachers. “ ’Cause RaShaeyah is not beat.”
“Yeah whatever ...” Ki-Ki gave a sinister smile. “She got mo’ friends than you.” And she and Yaanah walked away.
“What does that mean?” I asked Shae.
“Who cares?” Shae rolled her eyes. “Told you she a raggedy mess anyway.”
Before I could respond, the game was about to start again and everybody returned to their seats.
Tech was killing it and everybody knew it. It was official by the time the game ended—we had the baddest team in all of Newark.
“Yo, Cornbread!” Melvin yelled toward us as everybody started making their way to leave. “Let me hollah at you for a minute.”
He walked over to Shae and placed his arm around her. “Don’t hate, Shawtie.” He looked at me. “You had your chance. Now go wait outside, she comin’.”
Oh no, he didn’t?! “Oh, ah un rudeness! Don’t do it to yourself, Melvin,” I said.
“How you gon’ tell my best friend to stand outside in the rain? And just when I thought you were cute,” Shae said.
“Shawtie know Big Country was just playin’. Matter-fact, I’ma give y’all a ride. So can we please get a few minutes?” he said to me. “Alone.”
“I’ma wait in the hall, Shae.” I rolled my eyes at Melvin.
“Ai’ight.” She said with a pint-sized grin on her face.
When I stepped in th
e hall I overheard Josiah tell Deeyah, “Ma, just go ’head.” I stepped back and stood still so they couldn’t see me. People were passing by, but no one but me seemed to pay them any mind.
“I told you before,” he went on, “this was a wrap. I’m not feeling you no more. Plus you was all up on Dollah and I already warned you about him.”
“Oh, like you weren’t in the hall with Ms. Big-Behind Seven.”
“So if I was, maybe that’s what I like.”
That’s right girl, I wiggled my neck, a big behind is what he likes. Now take yo’ anorexic self outta here! Bye-bye, heifer!
“It’s really none of your concern,” he continued, “so chill, be as grown as you say you are, and step.”
“Oh, it’s like that?!” Deeyah spat at Josiah.
He sighed. “What you ain’t, you know.”
“You just played yourself.”
“Yeah and I’m shook.” He smirked. Before he could go on, Dollah walked up with a towel thrown around the back of his neck and a duffel bag on his shoulder. He still had on the team’s red and white basketball uniform. As he walked by he grabbed Deeyah’s index finger and pulled it just enough so she would step away from Josiah a little. When she turned her head he said, “I see you, ma.” Then he looked at Josiah and winked his eye.
“Is there a problem, son?” Josiah spat.
“Not unless you wanna make it one.” Dollah stopped dead in his tracks. “You need to put all that thug in ya game.”
“You need to get a game.” Josiah stepped to the side. “Like I told you before, it’s whatever, Chief.”
“You threatening me?”
Don’t ask me what went through my mind when I decided to play superwoman, but there was no way I was gon’ let some broke-down Snoop get with my man, so I walked up and said, “You better fall back, 50 Cent—”
“Ill.” Deeyah rolled her eyes. “Where did you come from? Off a diet?”
“Excuse you, Superhead?”
Josiah looked at me and smiled. “I knew it was a reason I liked you.” He winked his eye and waved his hand. “Forget them.” He brushed Dollah slightly on the shoulder as he passed him to step my way. “You cute, you know that?”—he placed his arm around my neck—“all defending my honor.”