It's a Curl Thing

by Jacquelin Thomas

  “What am I supposed to do?” Mimi asks. “It’s not like I can tell him to shut up and quit talking about himself.”

  “If you don’t, then I will.”

  Mimi looks like she’s about to cry. She starts pacing back and forth in the ladies’ room. “I knew it. I even told Kyle that this wasn’t going to work. Rhyann, I really did, but he wanted to do it anyway. Can we please just get through the dinner?”

  Only because Mimi’s my girl and I’d never do anything to embarrass her, I say, “Okay, I’ll be nice. But you tell Kyle that I don’t need any help in the dating department, okay? Besides, he met Traven.”

  “But he knows that you’re not dating him.”

  I fold my arms across my chest. “How does he know that?”

  Mimi takes a step back. “I kind of told him. I’m sorry, Rhyann. I didn’t think it was a secret or anything.”

  I take my time checking out my reflection in the mirror. “Let’s just get through this evening, but Mimi, don’t be discussing my personal life with your boyfriend. I hope we’re clear on this.”

  “I really thought you and Gage would hit it off.”

  “Then that should’ve been your first clue that this wasn’t gonna work out.”

  We return to our table.

  “You okay?” I hear Kyle ask Mimi.

  She nods.

  I can tell she’s not very happy with me right now, but I’m not pressed about it. Mimi knows how I am and she knows that I definitely don’t care for blind dates. I’ll get through the evening, and then I never have to see Gage again.

  I’m totally surprised to see China when I enter the salon on Friday.

  “You’re back at work already?” I ask her. It’s only been what, a couple of weeks since she had little Gabriella? I thought women had to be out at least six weeks before they could do anything.

  “Oh, no…I just came to drop something off for Mom. I needed to run some errands, so since Mike is on paternity leave, I left him home with the baby.”

  The door blows open and all I see is a flash of red.

  Mrs. Goldberg is actually ten minutes early for her hair appointment. I’m shocked, because she usually runs late.

  “Rhyann, I’m glad you’re here,” she says. She hands me a can of my favorite toffee-ettes. “I brought you some candy.”

  “Mrs. G, you’re trying to make me fat, aren’t you?” I ask, accepting her gift. “You just hating on me because I’m giving you some competition. I like those jeans you have on, but you know they’d look fierce on me.”

  She laughs. “I think they look pretty fierce on me.”

  “Mrs. G, why are you always bringing candy for Rhyann?” China asks. “You making the rest of us in here feel like you don’t like us no more.”

  She smiles and holds up a gift-wrapped box. “I didn’t forget my ladies here. I brought lots of candy. There’s enough for everybody. China, what on earth are you doing here? You are still recovering from childbirth.”

  “I had to run some errands. I’m going back home as soon as Mom gets back. By the way, thanks so much for the beautiful blanket, Mrs. G. It’s so soft and just gorgeous.”

  “You’re welcome, dear. I hope you brought me a picture of that beautiful baby girl.”

  China reaches for her purse. “I sure did. I came by here to leave it with my mom. But since you’re here, I can give it directly to you. Miss G, where did you get those shoes? I love them.”

  “Aren’t they cute?” Mrs. Goldberg responds. “I bought them last year at Saks.”

  “Those are some nice shoes for real.”

  Without waiting for Miss Marilee, I escort Mrs. Goldberg back to the shampoo bowl and get her ready to get her hair washed.

  “Miss Marilee will be back any minute. She had to run to the bank.”

  “Not a problem. She probably thought I’d be late as usual. I probably would, but lately I’ve been confused when I drive, so my husband dropped me off today.”

  That doesn’t sound good. “Are you still having those headaches?”

  “They are becoming more frequent lately.”

  “Mrs. G, when are you going to let a doctor check you out?”

  “When I can no longer stand the pain,” she responds with a smile. “How are things with you, dear?”

  “Okay,” I reply with a slight edge. “Things are going better today than they did last weekend.”

  “What happened last weekend, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I went on a blind date with my B.F.F. and her boyfriend Saturday,” I tell Mrs. Goldberg.

  “It doesn’t sound like you had a good time.”

  “I didn’t,” I confirm. “My so-called date got on my last nerve. He was so arrogant and kept bragging about his father’s record company and all of his celebrity friends.”

  She tilts her head up slightly to catch my eye. “Think you’ll be seeing this young man again?”

  I shake my head. “No, ma’am. He was nice and all, Miss G, but I’m not interested in him in that way.” I release a long sigh. “I don’t think I’ll ever have another boyfriend. Too much drama.”

  “Dear, just focus on your education for now. The world will not run out of boys, I assure you. Baby boys are born every day.”

  I laugh before asking, “Do you have children?”

  “No, dear. I was never so fortunate. I really wanted them, but it just wasn’t in the plan for me.”

  “Mrs. G, I think you would’ve been a great mother.”

  She smiles. “I always thought so, too.”

  Miss Marilee arrives just as I rinse the shampoo out of Mrs. Goldberg’s hair.

  They chat for a few minutes while I apply the leave-in conditioner.

  Miss Marilee escorts Mrs. Goldberg to her chair while I grab a slice of lemon cake and her favorite latte. She doesn’t tip, and I don’t look for one.

  I have five more clients to shampoo before I leave for the day.

  Auntie Mo picks me up, and we drive over to the church. She needs to take some measurements for the costumes she’s going to make for an upcoming play the teens at church are performing. I offer to help her by writing everything down.

  My stomach sinks when I find that Kelly’s been given the spot with Temple of Praise. I had a feeling it was gonna go down this way, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

  “I’m so sorry,” Auntie Mo tells me.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “I’m not going to let this get me down.”

  Deep down, though, I feel like crying, because I really wanted to be a member of the praise team.

  We head home after we leave the church.

  “Brady got into USC,” Auntie Mo announces during the drive. “Praise the Lord, he was given a full ride. He got an athletic scholarship.”

  That brightens up my day in a flash. “That’s wonderful,” I say.

  Auntie Mo nods happily. “Thank you, God…Thank you…”

  Auntie Mo stops at the grocery store to buy a cake for dessert. Tonight is going to be a celebration. I guess Brady will be getting his car for sure now.

  As for me…I won’t be dancing before the Lord. All the stuff that Kelly did to me comes back into my mind.

  It’s not fair that she can get away with her schemes while I’m trying to live right. Life sucks big-time.

  Auntie Mo comes to my bedroom shortly after I finish my homework.

  “I know you’re disappointed,” she tells me.

  “Kelly has stolen my ideas before and now she’s on Temple of Praise. To be honest, she’s not a real nice person—she uses people. Auntie Mo, it’s not fair.”

  “Maybe God has something else for you, Rhyann.” She places a warm hand on my shoulder. “Everything happens for a reason, whether we think it’s fair or not. You just keep doing the right thing and stop worrying about Kelly. For every action, there is a consequence.”

  I hear what Auntie Mo is saying, but the verses are not working for me right now. All I can see is that Kelly’s won again.


  Why did I have to lose to her, of all people?

  Chapter 14

  I’ve been thinking about how you’re going to pay me back for going on that date with Mr. My father owns a record company and that makes me special,” I tell Mimi on Saturday. “I’ve finally figured out a way. I want you to come with me to the Museum of Tolerance. The way I see it, you owe me big time.”

  She frowns at the idea. “Why in the world do you want to go there? I’m in the mood for something fun.”

  Mimi can be so dense sometimes. “I want to learn more about the Holocaust,” I explain. “That boy got on my last nerve, Mimi, so pay up.”

  “I didn’t think Gage was that bad.”

  “That’s because you didn’t really have to deal with him. You were all up in Kyle’s face.”

  Mimi bows her head in resignation. “Fine. I’ll pay up. When do you want to go?”

  “How about later today?”

  “Rhyann, I wanted to go to the mall,” Mimi whines. “Why don’t we do it next Saturday?”

  “You owe me, remember?” I remind her. “Besides, Brady’s graduation party is that day.”

  “Fine…we can go today. But we’re meeting Kyle and Gage later this evening. Okay?”

  “Not okay,” I say. “Mimi, I’m not interested in the golden boy of Tenez Records. Sorry, but I really don’t want to spend another minute around him.”

  “Please, Rhyann…”

  “Mimi, you’re going to the museum with me as payback for the last date from you-know-where. If I go on another one, you’re gonna have to give me your car.”

  She gives me a long-suffering look. “Can’t I just treat you to a spa day, Rhyann?”

  “Kyle must be some kisser,” I say, watching her closely. I’m beginning to think that Mimi and Kyle have been getting closer than close. “It’s gone beyond kissing.”

  Mimi doesn’t respond.

  “What are you thinking?”

  Her answer comes out all in a rush. “We haven’t gone all the way, Rhyann. Kyle says that what we’re doing is okay.”

  “So now you’re taking your boyfriend’s advice about how far to go?” I try to keep my disappointment in Mimi out of my voice.

  “We’re just touching each other. There’s nothing wrong with that,” she says, getting defensive. “Besides, it’s so hard to say no to him sometimes.”

  “If you keep it up, it’s gonna lead to more, Mimi. He’s not gonna want to leave it at that, and you probably won’t either.”

  “Rhyann, you can yell at me later. Right now let’s talk about you and Gage. He really wants to spend time with you and he keeps bugging Kyle about it. It’s his best friend, so what is he supposed to do?”

  My volume dials up a notch. “Learn how to say no, for one thing. Mimi, I can’t stand Gage. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to go out with him again.”

  “He’s rich,” she tells me.

  “And?”

  “Rhyann, please do this for me?”

  “I can’t.” I don’t care how much she begs, I’m not going out with Gage. I already know she’s not going to give up this easily, but Kyle and I differ in that respect. “Mimi, I know how to say no and mean it.”

  “Rhyann, that wasn’t nice.”

  “It’s the truth,” I retort. “Anyway, you’re not getting out of going to the museum with me. You owe me. And since you’re having such a hard time saying no, you won’t refuse me.”

  Mimi can be such a pain sometimes.

  She whines all the way to the museum that she’s going to be so bored. “I hate stuff like this, Rhyann, but I’m sacrificing myself for you. Why can’t you do the same for me?”

  “I already did—that’s how you ended up here with me. If you’d like to hand over your car keys, then we might be able to negotiate something.”

  “I can’t believe you’re being so mean.”

  “Believe it. It’s true.”

  We get out of her car and head inside.

  Mimi and I get in line with the other visitors for the tour shortly after we arrive.

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming here,” Mimi complains. “I should’ve just bought you some See’s candy and called it a day.”

  “That wouldn’t have worked this time,” I say.

  At the start of the tour, we each receive a photo passport card with the story of a child whose life was transformed by the events of the Holocaust. We won’t find out what happened to the child until the end of the tour. Mimi’s attention shifts, captured by the photo passport in her hand. “I wonder what happened to this little boy,” she murmurs.

  I stare at the photo of the little dark-haired girl with the big eyes on my own passport. Although this happened so long ago and I don’t know this little girl, I find myself praying that she survived.

  We move from one exhibit to the next, reliving decades of events in Germany, from before World War II, through the rise and fall of the Third Reich, to the liberation.

  Mimi and I break down in tears as we listen to the unforgettable stories of Holocaust survivors in the Hall of Testimony.

  At the end of the exhibit, we find out what happened to the children on the cards.

  “He died, Rhyann,” Mimi whispers. Tears stream down her face. “That poor little boy died. They exterminated him as if he was a bug. It’s so wrong.”

  Her face is all red and her eyes are wet. Mimi’s truly upset about this, and I’m surprised. Usually she’s caught up in her own world. I wrap an arm around her, horrified to find that that beautiful little boy was gassed in Auschwitz. “I just hope that he wasn’t alone.”

  “Me, too,” Mimi whimpers. “How can people be so mean? A lot of the prisoners were just little children. Who would they hurt?”

  I wanted to know the answer to that question myself.

  “Aren’t you going to find out what happened to your child?” Mimi asks, reaching into her purse and pulling out a tissue. She wipes her face.

  “I’m scared,” I say. “I don’t want to lose her. I know how crazy this sounds, but I want to remember her like this.”

  Mimi takes my hand. “We have to find out. We’ll always wonder if we don’t.”

  I insert my passport.

  “She survived,” I say with a huge sigh of relief. “She made it. I don’t think I could’ve handled another death right now.”

  Tuesday afternoon, Mrs. Goldberg brings her mother to the salon. She introduces her, saying, “This is my mother, Rivka Braddock.”

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Braddock,” I respond with a smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  She shakes my hand, her grip firm. “Ann has told me quite a bit about you, too. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rhyann.”

  “I told Mother how interested you were in the Holocaust and that you’ve been doing some research.”

  “My friend and I went to the Museum of Tolerance on Saturday,” I announce. “I’m so glad I went.”

  “Mother and I are members.”

  “I attended an event there just last week,” Mrs. Braddock tells me. “They had Eva Brown there. She is a survivor and the author of If You Save One Life.”

  “I would’ve liked to attend something like that,” I say. “It sounds pretty interesting.”

  “It was,” Mrs. Braddock says. “I think you would’ve enjoyed it.”

  My eyes travel down to her arm, where I can glimpse the numbers marring her skin. She catches me staring and says, “Shortly after I stepped off the train in Auschwitz, they tattooed this number on my arm.” She pushes up her sleeve to give me a better view. “They gave me number four-six-two-four-two.” She goes on to explain, “The separate numbers add up to eighteen. In the Hebrew language, the letters of the alphabet also stand for numbers. The letters making up the number eighteen spell out the Hebrew word chai, which means ‘life.’ I always believed that this was God’s way of showing me that despite what happened, from that moment forward I would survive.”


  “Did you see the crematorium?”

  She nods. “The crematorium was just a few minutes away from the barracks where I slept. We could see the chimneys, and we could smell the gas from the gas chambers. It was a terrible smell—the burning of the bodies.” Her eyes tear up at the memory.

  “You don’t have to talk about it if it upsets you,” I say, although I desperately want to hear the rest of her story.

  “No, we must never forget. I’m fine,” Mrs. Braddock responds. She straightens up to her full height. “When it was over, they cleared the grates. From where we were sleeping, we could hear the grates being cleaned. It’s very similar to what your own oven would be like when you move the grates around, except that it was much noisier. To this very day when I clean my own oven, I’m reminded of that noise of the cleaning of the grates in the crematorium.”

  “I read about how they crammed people in there,” I say, feeling sick to my stomach. “Then on top of that, they stuffed little kids on top of them. Is all that true?”

  She nods. “I’m afraid so. I saw when the transports came. I saw them throw living children into the crematorium. They would grab them by an arm and a leg and throw them in. The guards were cruel men.”

  “My friend’s passport had the picture of a little boy, and we found out that he was gassed. They were so cruel to kids, and I don’t understand why.”

  God, why would you let this happen? Why did these people have to suffer and die like this?

  Miss Marilee gets my attention to let me know that I have to shampoo her client. I hate having to put my conversation with Mrs. Braddock on hold, but I am here to do a job.

  While I wash the client’s hair, Miss Marilee gets started on Mrs. Braddock. I can hear Mrs. G giving instructions on how she wants her mother’s hair trimmed and styled.

  When I’m done, I sit in China’s chair and listen as Mrs. Braddock continues her story.

  “When they arrived, the American soldiers were very nice. Right off they cooked rice for us. I was so hungry, but when one of the soldiers saw me take some rice, he said, ‘You can’t eat that. If you do, you might die. There is too much fat in that for you.’ He explained that my stomach had shrunk. He gave me a piece of bread and suggested that I toast it before eating it. I had no idea what he meant.” Mrs. Braddock chuckles. “The nice man had to tell me that toast is when you make bread hard.”