Black Beauty

by Constance Burris

  "Andre, hurry up. You've been in there too long," one of the worsesome twins shouted through the other side of the door.

  "Shut up and wait," he shouted back.

  "Get out of the bathroom, Andre," his mother yelled.

  Oh crap. "Yes, ma'am." He picked up his dirty clothes and used towels before he quickly left the bathroom. For the past few days, he'd been extra respectful, and he tried his best to do what she wanted before she even had to ask.

  With a few minutes to spare before the bus, he threw his backpack on the kitchen counter and opened the refrigerator. His stomach rumbled. There was a fridge full of food, but nothing looked good. Everything seemed cold, sterile, and unappealing.

  But something smelled good. He closed the fridge and followed the smell to the trash can. They had fried chicken, yams, and mashed potatoes last night for dinner. The smell of the decaying food made his mouth water.

  "What are you doing?"

  He jumped away from the trash and looked towards his mother. "Nothing, I was just throwing something away."

  "Really? Because that's not what it looked like."

  "What else would I be doing with the trash?" he asked, wondering the same thing. What the hell had I been doing?

  Andre's heart deflated when Julia wasn't at the bus stop. Without her, he had no choice but to think about how he'd almost eaten food out of the trash. He'd been hungry plenty of times, but he'd never been so hungry he wanted to eat garbage.

  After the long bus ride, Julia's slender legs were the first things he saw when he entered the school. She had missed the bus this time, and she stood in the same spot he had been yesterday. Her smile made all of his crazy thoughts about eating out of the trash disappear. He returned her smile tenfold. Ordinarily, he would have tried to remain hard and hide his joy, but he needed a distraction. He needed to relax.

  He bent to kiss her, but she cringed and moved backward.

  "What's wrong?" he asked.

  "Your breath smells." Her pink lips twisted into a grimace, and she stepped further away.

  He breathed into his hand.

  "I don't smell anything," he said. It had smelled bad this morning, but he brushed his teeth twice, and now it smelled fine.

  She looked around like she was planning an escape route.

  Panic rose in his throat. "What does it smell like?"

  Julia covered her nose and mouth. "I have to go," she said in a muffled voice before she half jogged and half ran down the hall, dodging the crowd of students hurrying to their first hour class.

  He sniffed his breath again before he smelled his armpits. Nothing.

  For the rest of the day, every time Julia saw him, she ducked, dodged, or acted like he didn't exist. He couldn't smell anything wrong, but as an extra precaution, he went to the bathroom and washed his armpits with a damp towel. And in between every class, he'd stick a fresh piece of spearmint gum into his mouth.

  The school day went by in a blur while he thought about what could be bothering Julia. Yesterday, the rumor he and Julia were a couple had spread rapidly around the school. Today, when everyone asked about her, he laughed it off and said he didn't do girlfriends. He joked and laughed, pretending to be the clown everyone expected him to be. But he felt like a zombie, a living dead person, going through the motions, pretending his heart wasn't being torn out of his chest.

  Andre lived for basketball, but when the day was over, he skipped practice, went home, laid on his bed, and fell mercifully into a dreamless sleep.

  Something damp clung to Andre's back, and his stomach rumbled. He didn't know how long he'd been aware of the two warring sensations, but they were finally too uncomfortable to ignore. The bedspread covering his window had fallen and the light from the lamppost beamed onto his face, blinding him. He covered his eyes and sat up. Wondering if he was sick, he touched his forehead, and his hand came away hot and sweaty. .

  Except for his rumbling stomach, the apartment was deathly quiet. He looked over to Malik's bed to make sure he wasn't alone in the house. "Malik, did Momma cook?" Andre asked. "Why didn't anyone wake me?"

  Malik mumbled something indecipherable, turned over on his twin-sized mattress, and pulled the covers over his head.

  Hungry and sweaty, Andre made his way to the kitchen. The smell of something delicious called to him. He followed the scent to the trash can.

  As usual, the worsesome twin's eyes must have been bigger than their stomachs because the garbage was filled with leftovers. Limp spaghetti noodles, half eaten pieces of garlic bread covered with lumpy spaghetti sauce, and golden chunks of peaches lay in the trash can. His stomach ached with hunger and desire. He directed his gaze towards the hallway and the living room to make sure no one was coming. Assured he was alone, he reached in and stuffed the harmonious mixture of stale bread, rotting peaches, limp spaghetti noodles and tomato sauce into his mouth. A surge of pleasure started at his tongue and traveled down to his toes while he chewed.

  He'd never tasted anything so delicious. He devoured three more pleasurable handfuls before his thoughts fell back on Julia. The pleasure of the food and the joy of being with her mingled in his mind, and he forgot about what happened earlier in school. Andre walked away from the trash, wiped his hands on his pants, picked up the phone mounted on the kitchen wall, and dialed her number.

  "Hello," she said, answering on the tenth ring. She sounded sleepy, but she should have been awake waiting for him to call.

  "Hey, baby," he said.

  "Who is this?"

  He deepened his voice. "Andre."

  "Oh." She sounded suddenly alert and happy to hear him. Good.

  "Dre, I'm sorry. But I think we're going too fast."

  "What!" he shouted before he lowered his voice. "What are you talking about?"

  "I'm sorry. It's me, not you."

  "Hell no, it ain't me. We were fine yesterday."

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lead you on."

  "Are you seeing someone else?" Andre asked, trying desperately to come up with a reason why she would change her mind so quickly.

  "No," Julia said. "I'm just not interested anymore. I need to concentrate on school."

  "You're lying. You found somebody else didn't you?" He sounded like a punk, but he couldn't help it.

  "No, Dre. It's not like that. I have to go."

  "Don't. . ." he began, but she had already hung up.

  He didn't remember falling asleep, but he knew his eyes were closed and his face itched. He brought his hand up to scratch, but the itch grew legs, and it scurried across his face.

  Begrudgingly, Andre sat up. When he opened his eyes, hundreds of bugs scattered away. He recoiled, screaming when he realized they were all over him. He jumped, hysterically wiping them from his arms, chest, and legs. He felt the crunch and the wetness of dead bugs underneath his bare feet while he tried to get them off. When he pulled them away from his face, they squirmed beneath his fingers.

  "Andre, what's wrong? Why are you in here screaming?" His mother stood in the living room. Malik was next to her, holding a baseball bat over his head. His eyes were alert, searching for someone to attack. The worsesome twins peeked from the hallway, too scared to enter the living room.

  "There were bugs on me," he said once his breathing slowed enough to speak.

  "Why the hell are you sleeping on the front room floor?" Malik asked, lowering his bat.

  "I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep." Andre wiped his forehead. Half a dozen bugs were lying motionless on the floor. The rest had disappeared.

  "That's what you get for going to bed so early," his mother said. "I tried to wake you, but you wouldn't have it."

  With the excitement wearing off, the room began to spin, and Andre collapsed onto the couch. "I don't feel very well," he said.

  His mother walked over and put her hand on his head. "You're burning up, baby." She looked worried, almost like she loved him again.

  "Go to bed, Dre. You're staying home today. If you'r
e not feeling better by the time I get off work, I'm taking you to the hospital."

  LATREECE

  Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. - Neil Gaiman, The Sandman

  White floors, white wall, white principal, with mostly white students pretty much summed up Gene Autry High School. Latreece hated this school. She wished she had stayed on the east side and gone to Douglass, one of the only mostly black high schools in Oklahoma City. The school was so popular most of the graduates bought the school's car tags and displayed them on their vehicles like they were a badge of honor. But no, Granny wanted to get out of the hood and away from crackheads, drug dealers, and gangs. So, four years ago, they moved to the northwest side of town. Now, Latreece attended a school in the middle of nowhere, surrounded on three sides by cow pastures.

  Latreece slouched in her chair with her arms folded across her chest while Principal Kerr talked to Granny.

  "I apologize, Ms. Langston, but we have no choice but to suspend Latreece for a week." Principal Kerr was short and thin. She had a sharp nose, sunken cheeks.

  "But," Granny leaned forward, "what about graduation?"

  "Assuming she's currently passing, she'll be okay as long as she turns in all her assignments when she returns." The principal looked at Latreece like she was scum and the chances of her graduating were slim. Latreece stared back at the wrinkled woman and sneered. Principal Kerr had her confused with a dummy. Latreece always made sure to do just enough work to keep a C average.

  Granny leaned back, her stress level visually dropping from a ten to a five. It was her dream to see Latreece graduate from high school. She didn't want to disappoint her grandmother. She'd stay in school, but as soon as she graduated, she planned on moving to Las Vegas, Los Angeles, or New York. She hadn't decided which state yet, but as long as it wasn't in Oklahoma, she didn't much care. Shoot, most people didn't even know blacks lived here.

  Her grandmother nodded towards the principal saying yes ma'am this and yes ma'am that. After every few nods, she would give Latreece the side-eye. A look that said, damn you girl for making me come up here and have to play nice with this lady.

  "My granddaughter knows better, and this will never happen again," Granny said with a fake smile.

  "If she gets into another fight, I'll have no choice but to expel her."

  "Why isn't Shemeya here? She started this." Latreece said, tired of staying quiet.

  "We haven't been able to track her down. And, according to the other students, you started the fight."

  "Okay, can we go now?" Granny said, trying to get Latreece away from the principal before she could get into any more trouble.

  Principal Kerr frowned like she swallowed something sour, but she took the hint. "Let me walk you out, Mrs. Langston."

  The principal walked them past the secretaries and to the main entrance. "Latreece, we'll see you in a week. Mrs. Langston, you can pick up her homework Monday morning."

  "Thank you. I swear this won't happen again."

  Latreece rolled her eyes. The sound of her grandmother cowering made Latreece's stomach churn.

  As soon as the principal was gone, all docility and smiles left Granny's face and her right eye twitched. "Girl, what is wrong with you!" She slapped Latreece on the back of the head.

  "Ouch, Granny," Latreece said, gritting her teeth.

  "You know better than to start a fight at school. You know they're craving to kick as many black kids out of this damn place as they can."

  "But, Granny . . .

  "Don't 'but Granny' me."

  Latreece was about to 'but Granny again,' but then she saw them: Sean and Shemeya walking down the hall.

  TOGETHER!

  Shemeya held a bag of ice to her eye, and she and Sean were so engrossed with each other, they didn't see her.

  What. The. Hell?

  Latreece stormed towards them, fury boiling in her blood. Sean looked up, eyes wide with recognition and shock.

  "This is what you want, Sean?" She was so close, she could see his pores, and she imagined she smelled Shemeya all over him. "I can't even believe I wasted my time on you." She jabbed her finger into his chest. "You is a liar." She pointed at Shemeya. "And you is a ho. Y'all deserve each other."

  Having said her piece, Latreece stomped away. Her heart pounded in her ears and tears streamed down her cheeks. Sean was her first love, but she'd be damned if he was going to hurt her again.

  Granny gaped, speechless and confused.

  "You ready, Granny?" Latreece didn't stop. She left the building, hoping her grandmother would follow.

  Latreece waited next to Granny's old-ass green Mercury Valiant and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She felt as if she'd just been stabbed.

  When she saw Granny leave the building, she straightened and willed her tears away. She was not this person. She was not the type of girl to cry and lose her crap over some cheating dude.

  "Baby, what's wrong? What was that about?" The anger Granny had shown earlier was gone, and now concern and worry etched her smooth brown skin. She was forty-eight and didn't have a single wrinkle. People often thought she was her mother instead of her grandmother.

  "Can we just go, Granny?" Latreece looked towards the school. A part of her hoped she would see Sean chasing after her, but the other half hoped he wouldn't. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her crying.

  Granny hesitated for a long moment. "Okay," she said, reaching into her purse and digging through bundles of past due bills and other miscellaneous pieces of mail, make-up, and lord knows what else, while she searched for her keys.

  "Granny, hurry up," Latreece said anxiously, but it was evident Sean was not going to come after her like this was a damned romantic comedy. Forget him.

  "Here they are." Granny pulled out her keys. No less than ten keys were on her key ring, and Latreece knew she didn't know what half of the keys were for.

  The car started on the third try and En Vogue's cover of "Something He Can Feel" played through the car's weak speakers. The seats of the Mercury were old, plastic and cracked. They were covered in a thick blanket so they didn't cut into anyone's skin. An empty coffee cup and a discarded Sonic's bag that once held an extra-long chili cheese hot dog, laid on the passenger side floor.

  "Now, what's going on?" Granny asked.

  "Sean and Shemeya are what's going on," Latreece answered.

  "You and Sean were perfectly fine yesterday?"

  "That was yesterday. Today, I found out he's just another trifling ass negro, and Shemeya is a lying ass ho."

  "Watch your mouth," Granny ordered, but her tone softened a moment later. "He doesn't seem that way, and neither does Shemeya."

  "They don't, do they?" It's the innocent people you have to look out for. "They used to have a thing back in the day, and she wouldn't let it end."

  "You're in school to graduate, not date. I promised your mother before she died I'd make sure you had a good life. But it can't be all on me. You have to do your part. And that means not getting kicked out of school for stupid stuff."

  Latreece sighed and looked out the window. The sky had been overcast and threatening rain all day. It finally made good on its threat, and rain began to pelt the car. Granny switched on the windshield wipers. The cacophony of the rain and wiper blades drowned out the radio.

  Whenever Latreece got in any type of trouble or brought home a bad report card, Granny always had to mention Latreece's mother. It wasn't like her mother had been a saint. She had died of a drug overdose. Even when her mother was alive, Latreece had spent most of her time with Granny or her aunts. Anywhere was better than staying with her mother and the woman's endless string of boyfriends. Latreece shook away the bad memories and turned to her grandmother. She was the only constant in her life. Granny had always been able to make all of the nightmares and bad thoughts go away.

  "
Well, he's crazy because you're much prettier than she is," Granny said.

  "Do you think he likes her better because I'm so skinny?"

  Granny tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "You're not that skinny."

  "Don't lie to me." Latreece insisted.

  "What if you are? I raised you to know that you're more than a big ass or big titties."

  "You don't understand. Boys don't like skinny girls." Girls with big butts and big titties were all they showed on music videos, and that's what all the boys wanted. Even the white girls at school had bigger butts than her.

  "If that boy don't want you 'cause your ass is flat, then you need to leave him alone because he ain't the one for you."

  Latreece stared out the window. The world looked distorted and smeared through the rain. "You're right. I don't need him." But it still freaking hurt.

  Gary England, Oklahoma's favorite weather man, waxed poetically about the latest group of thunderstorms headed their way. The smell of fried chicken, Velveeta mac and cheese, collard greens, and cigarette smoke filled the apartment.

  Reassured that any threat of a tornado was at least thirty minutes away, Latreece turned the station. Martin Lawrence, dressed as a big, ugly, buck-tooth woman, wagged his long neon painted nails in front of a woman's face. Latreece laughed when Shenaenae started windmilling her fists hitting nothing but air.

  Since her suspension on Friday afternoon, all Latreece had done was eat, sleep, and watch TV. Vegging out in front of the television was the only thing that helped her forget about Sean's cheating ass. And that was how she planned to spend her entire suspension. Anyone else would gain weight after two days of this, but she'd probably end up weighing less by the time she was allowed back into school.

  Thunder rattled the windows, and for two long heartbeats, everything in the apartment went black. Just as the light popped back on, two figures burst through the front door.