Niya

by Fabiola Joseph

  After getting my stepdad’s drink, we headed back to my building, and Rodney walked me to my door.

  “I’ve been thinking about you ever since I saw you last night. You looked so beautiful, but I really didn’t get a chance to tell you,” he said.

  “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  “Were you and Niya okay? You two seemed weird.”

  I was about to answer him and tell him everything. It was as if I needed to talk to someone, anyone, about it, but my mother opened the door, interrupting us.

  “Oh. Who is this boy?”

  “Hi. I am Rodney.”

  My mother smiled and shook his hand, which shocked me. “Why you stand in the hallway? Come in and eat the food with us.”

  My mouth hung open as I watched her move to the side to let Rodney in.

  “What are you doing?” I asked my mother as I entered the apartment.

  “I like you talking to him. He boy. You need to talk to boy only.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. She was so stuck on Niya being a girl, and it disgusted me, although I was doing the same thing.

  By the time Rodney left that night, my mother was acting like she was in love with him. She made him promise to come over the following Sunday. As we stood outside my front door, he joked about how much my mother liked him.

  “Please. She’s just happy that you’re a boy.”

  He stopped smiling, and it hit me that maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

  “Plus, it doesn’t matter what she thinks. It’s all about what I think of you, and I think you’re pretty freaking great,” I added quickly.

  There. He was smiling again.

  “Can I pick you up and give you a ride to Kingsborough tomorrow?” he asked.

  I thought about it. I still hadn’t heard from Niya.

  “Yeah. That would be cool.”

  He smiled and leaned in and kissed me softly, lovingly. I liked it, but still, my mind was on her. As I locked the door after saying good-bye to Rodney, my phone vibrated. I looked at it and saw I had a text from Niya, finally.

  Waiting at Rikers to see my dad. This shit feels weird. And I love you too.

  I took a seat and instantly wished I was with her, but all I could do was text back.

  Damn. I’m shocked. Just breathe and say all that you need to say. I’m proud of you. Good luck. And hit me up once you leave.

  Chapter 58

  Niya

  I sat in that waiting room, with my heart pumping blood, anger, hurt, and excitement. No matter how mad I was at my parents, I still loved them, and we had still shared some good times. My granny sat with me, holding my hand. She always knew when I needed her, even when I didn’t say it, and her offering something as small as just holding my hand gave me strength.

  “Karee?” the guard called out. My grandmother and I stood up and waited for my father to enter. It had been a few years since I had seen him, so I was nervous.

  When he walked into the waiting room, I looked at my granny, and she was smiling. He was big, and you could tell he was lifting weights. He looked healthy, and that made her happy.

  “How you holding up, baby girl?” he asked me after approaching us.

  I didn’t know why, but I teared up as I leaned in to kiss him. When things were good with him, they were good, and I had missed that. He kissed my grandma, and she told him about the package she had brought for him. He thanked her, and after that, he turned to me.

  “So, baby girl, I saw you on the Internet. That shit was dope. I am really proud of you.”

  I smiled. “Thanks, Dad. This is just the start of it all, and truth be told, this is all ’cause of you. I got my love of music from you, and I thank you for that. You didn’t have a problem with any of it?”

  I could tell that my words had touched him, but I wasn’t sure how me being so open about being gay sat with him.

  “Why would I have a problem with any of it? All I have ever wanted for you was happiness and for you to follow your dreams. If you can do all of that while being you, that’s all that I can ask for. Plus, these niggas out here ain’t shit these days. Better you fuck with bitches. Oh, my bad, Mommy.”

  My grandma gave him the stink eye for using the word bitch, but they made me laugh.

  “So, we got about an hour. Tell me what’s up,” he said.

  I told him about everything that had gone down with White Boy, from selling to him, to Roxie and her man, to him rolling up on me, demanding money off of my shows and earnings from my music in any form, even CD sales. I made sure to speak low and tried my best to keep shit coded.

  “See, that’s where you fucked up right there. How many times did I tell you that if you’re going to do some dirt, make sure to get dirty by yourself? I don’t give a shit if it’s a friend or a foe. Do shit on your own, ’cause all friends can turn into damn foes in the blink of an eye.”

  I didn’t answer, ’cause he was right. When he did come around, he always made sure to drop his street knowledge on me.

  “I am going to need you to stay off the streets while I handle this. No school. No work,” he said.

  “I’m off that,” I answered. I wanted him to know that selling drugs would forever be in my past.

  “Good, ’cause you’re too talented to ruin your chances. So there’s this guy I know, Marcelo. They call him the Get-It-Done man.”

  “Yeah, I know him.”

  “Good. I want you to go and see him. I want you to say these words. Jack said he has a pain in his ass that makes his head hurt, and he needs you to take care of that before it reaches his heart too. He also asked if you’ve seen that nigga White Boy.”

  “That’s it?” I asked with a scrunched-up face.

  “No. And tell him that I will be calling him at Willie’s spot tonight, around nine.”

  “But I thought you just said that you should always do your dirt yourself?”

  “Yeah, well, in this case, Marcelo owes me one. I am sitting in here, and he’s free, so I am as dirty as I can get. It’s his turn.”

  There was no need really to talk about it anymore. The rest of our visit was spent talking about old times, and before we left, my father asked only one thing of me.

  “How is your mother?”

  My face turned sour. I quickly told him about the last time I saw her, and he looked saddened by my reality.

  “Niya, go check on her. Do it for me. Do it for your granny.”

  I looked at him, I looked at my grandmother, and I really thought about my mother.

  “All right, Dad. I got you.”

  He kissed my granny, and afterward, he kissed me. I wanted to hold on to him, but as always, I had to let him go and watch him walk away. We had to sit down until all the prisoners left the room. Before he exited through the door, he turned to us and said, “Just two more years, just two more years.”

  As I drove home with my grandmother, the car was silent, as it appeared that we both were lost in the land of our own thoughts. When we hit the Brooklyn borough, she spoke up while taking my hand.

  “Mi amor, you know you papi love you, just like you mommy. I love you too, Niya, but I hope you change now. Seeing you papi in jail and you mommy on the street, it kill me. I want good for you only. You become a star and show them the best thing they did was make you. You are special. You are a gift, mi amor. I know it soon as you mommy push you out. I pray, and that night I have dream you someone big in this world. I know you will be big, Niya. I see it in my dreams. Now, you take my dream, you step out of my dream, and you make it true. Learn your lesson, mi amor. Leave the street behind.”

  * * *

  When we got home, my granny made a quick dinner, because she knew I had a message to pass on. It wouldn’t be hard to find the man my father called Marcelo. He was always in the same spot.

  “Gran, do you know why that man owes my dad a favor?”

  She took in a deep breath and said yes, with no other explanation.

  “Well, tell me what you know.�
��

  She got up, went into her tin jar, and pulled out a neatly rolled joint and lit it. “When your papi do the robbery, that man go with him. Your papi tell him no violence, but that man no listen. He go in, beat the Chinaman up, and when police catch your papi, the other man get away. Your papi never tell on him. The police say they know he no rob the bank alone, but your papi . . . he never say nothing.”

  I thought about things, and after I ate, I threw on my jacket. As I headed for the door, my grandma came over and put her hand on my forehead and prayed for me.

  * * *

  As I walked the streets, I looked down at my phone and saw that I had a few missed calls and text messages. When I called June back, he told me the good news about the people who were calling him for me, but I told him that I wouldn’t be able to handle shit due to being really sick. I told him that the doctor said that I couldn’t even go to school, and that the only reason I was out was that I was filling my prescription. He agreed to let me get back with him in a couple of days, and that ended our conversation.

  Next on my list was Marlo. She had been blowing up my phone nonstop since I turned her out, but I just really wasn’t feeling her anymore. The last thing on my mind was pussy. I saw the text from Jamilla and really wished that she’d been with me when I went to see my dad. I missed her more than I led on, but she would only cloud my mind with more of her “I’m straight” bullshit. So, I told myself that I would text her back some other time and went on to find the Get-It-Done dude.

  When I walked up to him, he was alone. Just sitting on an old shopping cart that was lying on its side.

  “Hey. Went to see my dad, Jack, today, and he had a message for you. Do you know who I am talking about?”

  I waited for him to speak, but all he did was nod his head yes.

  “Jack said he has a pain in his ass that makes his head hurt, and he needs you to take care of that before it reaches his heart too. He also asked if you seen that nigga White Boy. He said to go down to Willie’s spot around nine tonight, ’cause he would be calling you.”

  “That’s it?” he asked as he picked up his newspaper and started to read the sports section.

  I started to say yes, but I had a request of my own. “From what my pops says, you owe him one. Is that true?”

  My question seemed to freeze him in space. After a few seconds, he looked up at me and answered, “Yeah, that’s true, but after this, all dues will be paid.”

  I reached down beside him. Picked up his pack of Newports and took one out. I pulled out my lighter, lit a cigarette, and told him how I felt about things.

  “See, this is how I see it. You not only owe my father, but you owe me too.”

  “Oh yeah, and why is that?” Marcelo asked as he lit his own cancer stick.

  “’Cause you were with him that day, and he never told on your ass. And because you two were into robbing places, I grew up without him. You’re out here on these streets. You see how hard life is. You also know my pops, and you know that even with all his bullshit, he’s a great guy. Yeah, he robbed that store, but you were with him, so . . . that makes you an accomplice to my stolen childhood.” I was laying it on thick, but it was worth a try.

  “So, what in the fuck do you want from me, little girl?”

  Yeah, I could hear the anger in his voice, but him asking me what I wanted showed that he was at least willing to listen.

  “I want to be there when you handle this for my dad.”

  “Is that it?”

  “No. I want you to handle this one yourself. Can you do that?”

  He stood up and looked me dead in the eyes. “Now, why would you want that?” he asked. Looking into his eyes was like looking into a black hole. He seemed empty inside, and it gave me chills.

  “’Cause the less people who know about this shit, the better. Plus, I need some information from him, and after I get that info, I am going to hire you to do a job.”

  I watched as his lips slowly curled into a smile. “A paid job? Now, that’s what I like to hear. I will make sure that you are there.”

  I put out my cigarette and asked him to take down my number.

  “No, no need for that. I only take calls from the pen. When I need you, I know where to find you.”

  I walked away with a chilly feeling creeping up my spine. It was a scary thought that a man like that would know where to find me.

  I went home and stayed there for the next week. I didn’t speak to or hear from anyone until my fourth day of solitude.

  Chapter 59

  Jamilla

  This was the third morning Rodney was picking me up for school, and Niya was yet again a no-show. I called her, I texted, and I even knocked on her door, but nothing. When her grandmother opened the door, she told me that Niya wasn’t home, but I could tell that she was lying. There was no way that she wasn’t there. Her birthday was only a day away, and I needed to see her. I needed to speak to her, and I really just wanted to spend time with her. I missed her so much. Hanging with Rodney was cool. He gave me all his attention, and I loved that. When we weren’t together, he texted me until he went to sleep, and in the morning, he texted me while he was still in bed.

  “Hey, beautiful. So happy to see you, boo.”

  I was standing in front of my building, waiting for him. I guessed I was deep in thought, because I didn’t even see him walk up. He was behind me, with his arms around my waist, and he planted a small kiss on my neck.

  “What in the fuck are you doing? What did I tell you about that? What if Niya was walking down?”

  I pushed him off of me roughly and looked up at the window to Niya’s kitchen. The blinds looked like they might have moved a little, but I wasn’t sure. I knew that her grandmother always left the fan on in there, so that could have been the cause.

  “Yo, when are you going to tell her? I’m tryin’a make you my girl, and I don’t want to have to hide the fact that I’m falling in love with you.”

  I was stunned. Stunned, but still pissed.

  “Love? What do you mean, you’re falling in love with me? We have been hanging out for only a couple of days.”

  I started to walk away from him, but he just followed me.

  “Yeah, that’s what I said. Is there a problem with falling in love with you within a couple of days? I mean, I have known you for some time now.”

  I didn’t answer. Hell, I couldn’t.

  “Stop walking, Jamilla. Look, that’s the facts, so tell me how you feel.”

  I stopped walking and looked into his eyes. “I don’t know what to say to tell you the truth. I guess I wasn’t expecting to hear that.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at his shoes, then back at me. “It’s cool, I guess. I just can’t help it. You make me feel different, so . . . I’ll wait.”

  “Wait for what?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.

  “Guess I’ll wait for you to fall in love with me too. Hey, I know you like me, so being the smooth nigga that I am . . . it won’t take long.”

  Seeing him smile made me smile too.

  “Look, Rodney, I am going to catch the bus instead of riding with you. I just need to think about things. Is that okay?”

  He nodded his head yes and came in for a hug. I held him at arm’s length and tilted my head to my building.

  “So, when are you going to tell Niya?”

  His question hung in the air as if it were thick smoke, which caused me to have trouble breathing. I started to back away from him before answering.

  “I don’t know, Rodney. I really don’t know.”

  That was all the truth.

  * * *

  Between classes, I texted Rodney and told him that I would also take the bus home. Things were moving too fast with him, and I needed space. I wasn’t ready to tell Niya anything, so he needed to pump his brakes on that issue. My life had changed because of Niya. It seemed like everyone on campus wanted to be my friend ever since they’d found out th
at Niya and I were close. People were always asking me about her when I wasn’t with her, asking about her music, when her next video would be out, and that day was no different. As I walked out of my English class, I heard my name being called and turned around to see Marlo.

  “Hey, girl. What you been up to?” she said.

  I stood there and gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Hey.”

  “Them shoes are real cute, girl. Niya get them for you?”

  I didn’t answer her. I just waited for her to get to her real question.

  “So, girl . . . you seen Niya? I see she hasn’t been on campus, and I’m getting a little worried.”

  I rolled my eyes and just offered her a simple no.

  “Come on, girl. Don’t lie. I know that you are real close to her. I know you’ve seen her.”

  I started to walk away while answering over my shoulder, “No, sorry. I haven’t seen her.”

  “Well, tell her to call me. I need to see her.”

  “I’m sure you have her number, Marlo. Just go ahead and hit her up.” She wasn’t about to use me to run her whore errands.

  * * *

  I walked into my house and fell on my bed. I lay across it the long way while going through old texts from Niya in my phone. I wished she would talk to me and see me. I missed her and needed to make sure that we were okay after that crazy night with the cops.

  Niya, I miss you. I need to see you. Answer me please. I need to know that you are okay.

  I sent my text and waited and waited and waited. My heart hurt, and I just didn’t know what else to do.

  “Hey, Jamilla. This came for you.”

  I sat up and looked down at the package that Marie had laid on my bed before retreating. I had uploaded my manuscript on CreateSpace and had put in my order for the proof as soon as it was available. I wanted to open the box and hold my first book in my hand, but it didn’t feel right not sharing this moment with Niya. I had ordered two copies, and she was supposed to be here with me.