It's a Curl Thing

by Jacquelin Thomas

  “Excuse me,” the red baron says. “Did you say something?”

  I turn around, my hands on my hips. “Yeah, I did,” I snap. “I have a name, and it’s definitely not ‘girl’ or ‘girlie.’ It would be nice if you’d say please every now and then. Just in case you didn’t get the memo, slavery ended years ago, so I don’t have to be your handmaid. I’m not gonna let some white woman talk to me any kind of way. Sorry, but I’m not having it.”

  The red baron’s mouth drops wide open.

  “Rhyann, can I speak to you in the office?” Miss Marilee asks, but from the expression on her face, I can tell it’s not a request but a demand.

  She closes the door behind me.

  “I think it would be best for you to go home today.”

  “Miss Marilee, I won’t stand to be disrespected,” I say. “She’s very rude.”

  “In order to get respect, one must earn respect, Rhyann. Just go on home and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “But—”

  Miss Marilee repeats, “It’s best if you go on home. As I said, we’ll talk tomorrow. I want you to really think about what it means to work here.”

  I grab my backpack and leave.

  On the way out, I hear someone tell Miss Marilee that China’s husband just called to say that she’s in labor and on her way to the hospital. He wants her to bring the baby clothes to the hospital because he forgot them.

  “I’ll drive you home,” she tells me. “I need to go by China’s place to pick up some things.”

  In the car, Miss Marilee isn’t real talkative. I don’t know if it’s because she’s mad at me or worried about her daughter.

  “I’m sorry,” I say softly.

  “I know that, Rhyann. But I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to decide if you really want this job.”

  I keep my mouth shut during the rest of the ride home.

  I make a pot of spaghetti so Auntie Mo won’t have to come home and cook, then I start my homework and work until she arrives.

  “Do you think I’ll get fired?” I ask Auntie Mo, after telling her what happened.

  “Not if you apologize, Rhyann. Not just to Marilee but to the client as well.”

  “But—” I begin.

  Auntie Mo cuts me off. “But nothing. Rhyann, listen to me. If you want to keep your job, then you need to let what people say just roll down your back. Do your job—that’s all that matters.”

  “I can’t let people talk to me any kind of way, Auntie Mo.”

  “You are a child, Rhyann. If someone gives you a problem, tell your employer about it and let her handle it. Isn’t that what I tell you about your teachers?”

  I’m still mad, and I don’t respond.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Rhyann, if you want this job, then you need to do the right thing. You can’t go around flying off the handle just because you think you’re bad. All that happens is that you end up unemployed. You have to learn to choose your battles wisely.”

  Then she embraces me. “Thanks so much for cooking dinner, sweetie. I appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome,” I murmur.

  It’s Brady’s night to do the dishes, so I head to my bedroom right after dinner. I log onto my journal.

  May 13th

  Today I told off the red baron, and I think Miss Marilee is going to fire me for doing so. I just got tired of being called “girl” or “girlie.” I have a name and I would like people to use it when referring to me. What’s so wrong with that?

  My aunt says I have to choose my battles wisely. So when am I supposed to fight? Over the years, we fought for freedom; we fought for the right to vote; we fight even now for respect. Although people try to deny it, racism still lives. So am I not supposed to demand the respect I deserve?

  Miss Marilee said that in order to get respect, I have to earn it—what is she talking about?

  Why should I let some white woman call me anything but my name?

  Chapter 10

  I didn’t sleep well, so I wake up Wednesday morning a little cranky. Plus, Auntie Mo’s car has a flat, and we have to wait for Chester to fix it, which makes me late for school and her late for work.

  I can see how this day is going to turn out already.

  When I finally get to school, first period has already started. There’s only about thirty minutes left.

  When the bell rings for second period, I make a quick stop by my locker. Thank goodness this is PE. I need something to wake me out of my funk.

  Mimi walks up to me. “Hey, what happened this morning? Why were you so late?”

  “Car trouble. Auntie Mo had a flat tire.”

  “Oh.”

  Kyle strolls over to where we’re standing. “I was just looking for you,” he tells Mimi.

  I’m not in the mood for him draping himself all over her, so I excuse myself. “Mimi, I’ll see you at lunch.”

  “Okay.”

  Lunch isn’t for another two periods, so I grab a bag of crackers out of my backpack and nibble on them on my way to my third-period Latin class. Once there, we find out that we’re having a pop quiz.

  Great.

  Normally this doesn’t bother me, but the way my week has been going, I just might fail the test.

  We have to translate a series of sentences into idiomatic Latin. I read the first one: “They kept asserting that the sailors would be killed.”

  I pick up my pen and write Affirmabant nautas necatum iri. Satisfied, I move on to the next one. Thankfully, there are only four of them, and I’m pretty sure I have the correct answers.

  The crackers I scarfed down earlier on my way to class do nothing to keep my hunger at bay. I’m starving by the time fourth period ends, so I head straight to the cafeteria.

  I already have my sandwich by the time Mimi arrives.

  She sets her tray of food down on the table. “Rhyann, what’s up? Why are you so quiet?”

  “I’m stressed, Mimi,” I respond. “I’m worried that Miss Marilee is gonna fire me over that white woman. I didn’t mean to cause drama, but you know I can’t stand it when people try to act like they so much better than me. That woman was treating me like I was a house slave or something, so I got in her face.”

  Much of my problem is that I’ve been fretting over being fired all last night and this morning. I really enjoy working at the Crowning Glory Hair Salon and don’t want to lose my job. I reach for the bottle of ketchup and pour some over my french fries.

  “I would’ve told her off, too,” Mimi says before biting into her chicken wrap sandwich. After chewing and swallowing, she adds, “I’m with you on that.”

  “I probably should’ve just gone and told Miss Marilee so she could handle it. That’s what my aunt said anyway. She knows my temper. I’m gonna apologize to her this afternoon.”

  “Miss Marilee’s nice. I don’t think she’s going to fire you, Rhyann. I’m pretty sure she’ll give you another chance. It’s not like you beat up the red baron.” She giggles. “Now you got me calling her that.”

  I laugh. “That’s the perfect nickname for her. You should see that fire engine red hair. I can’t lie, though. It looks good on her.”

  I stick a french fry into my mouth.

  “Your hair really looks cute, Rhyann.”

  Giving Mimi a sidelong glance, I respond, “Thanks. I’m getting used to it like this, but I plan on letting it grow out again. I’m gonna get braids for the summer.”

  “Well, you already know that you look good with braids, too.” Mimi finishes off her sandwich. She takes a long swig of her Pepsi before biting into her apple.

  Our conversation turns to Mimi’s favorite subject. Kyle.

  Mimi finishes her apple. “He’s so moody at times. Sometimes I don’t know how to deal with him.”

  This is the second time I’m hearing doubts. “I don’t know what’s up with Kyle. Maybe he’s just not as into you as much as you think.”

  �
�Rhyann, don’t hate. I can’t help it if I’m cute and I’m a boy magnet.”

  “If I had a dollar sign tattooed on my forehead like you and Dee, I’m sure I’d meet a lot of boys, too.” I take a sip of my soda before eating the last of my fries. “But don’t think I’m sleeping when it comes to a boy. I get lots of attention. I’m just extremely picky about the ones I let up in my life.”

  Mimi leans forward and says in a loud whisper, “Rhyann, please, I need you to help me figure out how to make Kyle happy.”

  I survey her face to see if she’s serious. “What do you mean by that?”

  “He can be so nice to me some days, and then others, he acts like he doesn’t want to be bothered. What am I doing wrong?”

  “Are you always calling him?” I ask. “Boys don’t like girls who are always so needy.”

  “I have a life,” Mimi says, offended. “I don’t call him every day or anything like that.”

  I shrug. “So just back off some more and see what happens.”

  “But I don’t want Kyle to think that I’m not interested in him.”

  I chuckle. “He won’t think that. Not the way you chased after him like that.”

  The bell rings a few minutes later.

  “I’ll be so glad to get this day over with,” I say.

  When school lets out, I walk down to the bus stop to catch the bus to the salon. I pray the whole way there that I’ll still have a job.

  As soon as I arrive, I find out that China has given birth to a little girl. I make a mental note to buy a gift for the baby.

  I locate Miss Marilee in her office. I knock before walking in.

  “Have a seat, Rhyann,” she says.

  I remain standing. “Miss Marilee, please don’t fire me,” I plead. “I’m so sorry for going off on the red…I mean, Mrs. Goldberg, like that. I was wrong, and I’m truly sorry.”

  Miss Marilee looks at me severely. “Rhyann, we pride ourselves on providing excellent customer service even to our more difficult clients. Ann Goldberg is brisk, and she says whatever comes into her head, but I’ve known her a long time and I can tell you that she doesn’t mean any harm. It takes her some time to learn names. If it wasn’t for that BlackBerry she carries everywhere, she probably wouldn’t remember her appointments.”

  “Oh,” I mutter.

  “If you’re going to work here, I need to know that you can hold your tongue. If any of the clients give you a hard time, just tell me, and I’ll handle it. Okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She smiles warmly, liking that I know I was wrong. “Then let’s not keep the clients waiting. We’re going to be pretty busy with China out with the baby.”

  “Oh, by the way, congratulations, Grandma.” I say.

  Her smile goes ten watts brighter. “Rhyann, my new granddaughter is the most beautiful baby in the world.”

  “Do you have pictures of her?” I ask.

  “Not yet, but I’m taking some tonight when I go out to Kaiser.”

  My spirits are lifted now that I know I’m still employed. I send up a quick prayer of thanks. “Oh, Miss Marilee, I forgot to tell you that I have Bible study on Wednesday nights. I need to leave by six.”

  “Your aunt told me. That’s fine.”

  We leave the office, and I call for the first client to come to the shampoo bowl. By the time I have to go, I’ve washed twenty heads and made fifty dollars in tips. One client, an actress, tipped me twenty dollars alone. Is it any wonder why I want to keep this job?

  I stroll out of the salon expecting to see Chester or Auntie Mo waiting for me, especially since I have to go straight to the church, but I find Traven sitting in his cute little Mustang.

  I walk over to his car. “Hey, Traven. What are you doing here?”

  Before he can respond, this chick in jeans that are much too tight walks up to the car and plops herself down in the front passenger side without a word to me.

  Traven introduces us. She eyes me up and down before plastering on a fake smile and saying hello. I respond in kind.

  To Traven, I say, “I’ll just wait for my aunt to pick me up.”

  “She asked me to pick you up,” he responds. “C’mon, Rhyann. I told her that I’d drop you off at the church.”

  The last thing I want to do is ride with him and his chick of the day.

  Traven’s eyes never leave my face. “I promised her that I’d get you there on time. You see, I called the house earlier to talk to Brady. Your aunt told me that you needed a ride, and she asked if I could pick you up since I was over this way.”

  He gets out and walks around the car to open the door for me. This dude is putting me in the backseat.

  That’s okay. I don’t mind.

  “Thanks for coming all the way over here,” I say when I get in. “I’ll give you some gas money.”

  “Keep your money, Rhyann. I’m cool. Besides, I’m down this way a lot. My cousin and his family don’t live too far from here.” Traven walks back to the driver’s side, and soon we’re on our way.

  He drops his friend off two blocks away from the salon.

  “You want to get up front?” he has the nerve to ask me.

  “No, I’m fine back here,” I respond, trying not to show that I have an attitude with him.

  “She’s just a friend of my cousin’s,” Traven tries to explain. “I was doing him a favor and giving her a ride.”

  “You’re doing a lot of favors today, huh?” I ask. Deep down, I’m thrilled he’s not dating her. I can tell that we wouldn’t be able to get along.

  He steals a peek over his shoulder at me. “Hey, you okay?”

  “I’m good,” I respond. He still looks suspicious, so I add, “Did you get your car painted? It looks different.”

  Traven nods. “Yeah. I just got it back yesterday.”

  “It looks like a brand-new car,” I say. “Looks like you got the inside redone, too.”

  He laughs. “I just had it cleaned real good.”

  I settle back against the seat. “I can’t wait to get my own car. Chester is looking for a car for Brady. He and Auntie Mo are giving it to him for graduation. It’s a surprise, so don’t tell him.”

  “I won’t,” he promises. “Chester and I went to this dealership in Inglewood to check on this Mustang. It was sweet, but the price was too high.”

  “So you knew about it then—the car for Brady.”

  Traven glances over at me. “Only because I was riding with Chester at the time. He was giving me a lift to pick up my car after it got painted.”

  “Is Chester looking for a car for me, too?” I ask hopefully.

  “He didn’t mention it to me.”

  “I hope so. He found one for Tameka, and now he’s looking for one for Brady. I’d better be next on the list.”

  He glances over the seat at me. “What kind of car do you want? A BMW or Lexus?”

  “Nope,” I reply. “I want a Volkswagen Beetle convertible. Yellow with the black top.”

  He thinks that’s funny. “I can see you driving one of those.”

  “Traven, why did you say a BMW or Lexus?” I ask. “Why would you think I’d want one of those?” I know this boy can’t think I’m a materialistic slave to all things designer.

  “They’re nice cars,” he answers. “I figured you’d want one or the other. I want a BMW, but I can’t afford one, not even one like Chester drives. This Mustang used to be my uncle’s car. They passed it on to me when he died.”

  “It’s a nice car.”

  “Hey—I like it, and it beats walking or taking the bus any day.”

  “Amen to that,” I respond. “That’s why I’m trying to get Auntie Mo to buy me a car now instead of waiting until I graduate. That way she doesn’t have to drive me to school when she’s not working.”

  He gives me an eye. “It’s not that far, Rhyann.”

  “It’s farther than Dorsey. Matter of fact, the school isn’t even in Los Angeles. I go to school in Pacific Palisades,
and she works in Santa Monica. I feel bad when she has to drive me to school on her days off.”

  He pulls into the church parking lot.

  “So, when are we going out again?” he asks me.

  I stop with my hand on the door handle. “Traven, I’m focusing on my education. I’m going to college so I can get away from the Jungle, you know.”

  This boy has no idea how much I like him, and I don’t plan on telling him. This way I won’t end up looking all embarrassed.

  His mouth quirks, like he knows something’s wrong. “If you’re worried about our friendship, you don’t have to be. Rhyann, we’ll always be friends. Even if a relationship between us ends up not working.”

  I shake my head no. “Don’t believe that hype. Traven, when I break up with a boy, I’m not trying to be friends after that. I like to leave the past behind.”

  “So you’re saying that we can’t be friends if a relationship doesn’t work out?”

  “Would you want to be friends with a snake that bit you? I wouldn’t. If we break up, it’s probably gonna be a bad one.”

  “Stop being so negative.” Traven holds his hand out to me. “Who says that we’ll even break up? The feelings I have for you are real, Rhyann.”

  “Maybe you believe that now,” I respond. “But it might change over time.”

  “Pessimistic much?”

  “I’m just being cautious.”

  “I understand,” Traven states. “Rhyann, I’m not playing games with you. I really do care for you. Believe that.”

  Yeah, right.

  “I’m not gonna give up on you. I just want you to know.”

  We’ll see.

  Luckily, I see Auntie Mo pull into the parking lot. The adults have Bible study on Wednesdays as well. She gets out of her car and waves.

  “I guess I’d better go,” I say, then pause for a second before asking, “Want to come in for Bible study?”

  “I would, but I need to finish a project for my science class. It’s due on Friday. Maybe next Wednesday?”

  “Sure,” I respond. I’m glad we’ve had a chance to talk. I’ve always liked talking to him. “I’ll give you a call later on tonight. Thanks for the ride.”