Mama's Girl

by Daybreak Jones

  I like that about him though.

  What I don’t like about him is that he always keeps me waiting. I waved on the bus this morning because he said his mama was letting him drive her new car to school. I see the new car out there warming up, but no Carlos. My stomach is growling and bubbling a little bit from the three chocolate éclairs I ate last night. I knew I was overdoing it when I ate the second one, but they were so fresh and tasted so good. I hold my stomach while looking out of the door window for Carlos.

  His mama bought a Cadillac two weeks ago, and this is the first time she’s letting him drive it to school. I’m hyped about riding in it myself. The pearl white exterior is too fly. Maybe I can run to the bathroom before he comes out. Nope. I see his slow butt coming down the steps now. He stops at the bottom of the step because Mooky has run up on him probably begging for money. Mooky will beg a hungry baby for a sip off a bottle. He wasn’t always like that. At one time we all looked up to him, but not now. Carlos hands him a dollar and Mooky jogs off. I could go out and meet him at the car, but I’m going to make him walk over here and ring the doorbell. My mama should really enjoy hearing the chimes this morning.

  Man! Carlos is clean. He is wearing a new off-white leather bomber jacket and a matching cap. Kid is trying to match his mama’s new car. Since he wants to roll like that, let me slip into my mama’s white fox jacket.

  I open the front door for him, and the cold air comes in with him. I open the door wide. The frigid blast and the chimes should disturb Mama’s comfort.

  “Wow! Baby girl, you are looking mighty good this Friday morning. Good enough to be riding in a Cadillac.” He grins.

  Even in the low tone he is speaking in now, his big, dog-barking voice commands my attention. When he talks, his voice always fills up the inside of my head.

  I take a step back from the door and tell him, “Man, I look good enough to be riding in a Cadillac every morning. These things I thought you knew.” I hit him with a smile from my newly dentist-whitened teeth.

  “Yeah, well, whatever. But you do look good this morning. Does Gloria know you wearing her fox?”

  I suck my pearly whites and answer, “This is my coat. You want to see the inscription?”

  “Yeah.” His grin challenges me to show the label.

  “I’ll show you later. Let’s ride.”

  “Yeah, we better get on out of here before Gloria wakes up and peels her fur coat off your back.”

  He’s right about that. My mama doesn’t play about her furs, so I push him a little to get him moving out the door. After feeling how cold it is out here, I want to keep the fox on.

  Once we get in the Cadillac, I am very impressed. It’s a real nice car with soft beige leather seats and a thick carpet, and it has that new-car smell, which is being bullied by Carlos’s cologne.

  “You like the car, don’t you? Yeah, I know you do.” He is cheesing big time as he pulls away from the curb, leaning on the armrest. Profiling is what he calls this leaning while driving.

  “So, who are you getting with after school? I know you didn’t beg Ms. Carol for the car just to drive me to school.”

  He flips his four fingers up like a seal. He thinks that is a cool gesture, and he says, “I didn’t have to beg her. I told her I needed the car and I picked up the keys,” he says, still leaning hard almost touching the driver’s window.

  “Yeah, okay. You can tell that to somebody who don’t know. I am certain that you were on your knees for at least an hour, begging. So, stop frontin,’ and tell me: who is it?”

  “You know Michelle Pickens?”

  “Yeah, I know Michelle. A brown girl with a big butt and wigs. She’s in my computer lab.”

  “She wears wigs?” he asks sitting up straight behind the steering wheel.

  “Boy, please, everybody at school knows her hair comes from the Korean shop on Ashland. I hope you ain’t serious about her. Ms. Carol will hurt her feelings too bad if you bring her home. Michelle is smart and all, but you know how your mama is about fake hair.”

  “How do you know she wears wigs?”

  It is official. I have the bubble guts and need to use the bathroom, like right now. “You can’t see her scalp, stupid, and her hair is different lengths and different styles every day. You had to have noticed. But, then, maybe you didn’t. Boys can act so dumb when they trying to get some pussy.”

  I pull down the visor on the passenger side looking for a mirror. The Cadillac has a lighted one. I pull out my eyeliner to add a little flair to my look and to distract myself from thinking about the bathroom.

  “I ain’t trying to get some. I now already got some it.” He leans back on the armrest. “And I am not a boy,” he huffs.

  “You have been doing it to Michelle?” With the eyeliner in my hand, I notice that my eyes are perfectly lined. There is nothing I can do to make them better. I flip the visor up and drop the eyeliner back in my purse. “I thought she was smart,” I say in response to his not answering my question.

  “What?” he asks with his narrow face twisted. “She is smart. Her doing it with me doesn’t stop her from being smart.”

  I turn to face him because he has obviously forgotten who he’s talking to. “You don’t love her. And I know this because you haven’t said a word about her to me. What, is she going to Ohio State with you next year? Does she even know about the basketball scholarship? The answers are no and no. If you loved her, you would have told your secret without fear of her trying to play you. And since you sexed her up without being in love with her, she’s not that smart.”

  I have never been in love, but I do enjoy sex. I figured out that it’s not important for me to be in love, but the boys have to be head over heels in love with me before they get close to having sex with me. I have a shoebox full of love letters and greeting cards all confessing undying love. Not to mention the constant supply of Nikes, Adidas, and Reeboks gym shoes from Walter. When guys are in love, they try harder to please. In my opinion, any girl who gives it up to a dude who is not in love with her isn’t smart.

  Carlos blows an exasperated breath. “You don’t know everything, May.”

  “About you I do.”

  “You make me sick thinking that.”

  “Whatever, but you know it’s true.”

  I do know him well, and what he’s going to do next is reach into his pants pocket and pull out a roll of tropical fruit Lifesavers and suck on one all the way to school and not say another word unless I do.

  We are about six blocks from school. I can make it without asking Carlos to make a bathroom stop.

  When he pops the candy in his mouth I say, “So where are you taking her?”

  He smacks on the Lifesaver deciding if he will answer.

  “Oh, well, thanks for the ride to school anyway.”

  He huffs again, and then he says, “My mama had four tickets to a play about Langston Hughes, and she gave them to me.”

  He’s talking to me, but he’s not looking at me. His eyes are straight ahead, which is cool because he is driving, but I know his not looking at me is part of the attitude he’s trying to give me. I really couldn’t care less about him being upset. What has my interest now is the tickets. Samuel, my bus driver boyfriend, is in the Langston Hughes play.

  “Four tickets? Who else is going with you?”

  “Nobody. I was going to try to sell the other two at the door. It’s a matinee right after school.”

  “I know all about the play,” I say grabbing his shoulder and shaking it. That’s a mistake because the car swerves a little. “Oops, sorry, but Samuel is in that play. He hasn’t driven the bus all week because of the matinee schedule. I’m going with you guys.”

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me. I’m going. And I’ll sell the other ticket for you so your girlfriend won’t have to see you hustling tickets on a date. Trust me, it’s not something a girl wants to see.”

  His whole face gets into a frown. “You ain’t doing it for me. Y
ou’re doing it to go see that Samuel dude. Mr. Peters from across the alley drives for the same bus company, and he says dude is a spoiled punk, a rich boy crybaby.”

  Now he is looking at me.

  “You’re tripping,” I say looking away, and he is. I know envy when I hear it. Samuel has money, and for a grown man like Mr. Peters to be talking about him, it must be quite a bit.

  “And I heard he be dogging girls because he has a little loot. He took two girls to his prom, and they didn’t know they were going to be part of a three-people date. Each one thought they were going alone with him.”

  “Be serious.”

  “I am. Edith told me about it. He’s a dog.”

  “Edith?” Why would she tell him and not me? That’s girlfriend talk. I am going to have to check in with her. She’s holding on to vital information. “How could he do that? The girls at the school had to be talking about who they were going to prom with.”

  “They didn’t go to his school, and they were both sophomores. He played them to make himself look like a player. He’s twenty-two, and, if you’re not careful, he’s going to play you too. Hold up.” He pauses. “You talking about my mama tripping over Michelle’s wigs. What do you think Gloria gonna say when she sees dude?”

  “She’s met Samuel, twice. He came over Sunday and brought Peking duck.” Which actually is the only time we have had anything like a date. The other time my mama met him was when she came up on the bus to see him after I told her he gave me his cell phone number. The bus was dropping me off, and she pushed her way past me onto the bus.

  She wasn’t loud or anything and spoke in a tone only he could hear: “So, my daughter tells me you and her are talking on the phone. I don’t have a problem with that as long as things stay on the phone. If anything else happens like movies, dinner, concerts, or any kind of date with her you need to ask me in advance. You’re grown and she’s not. Let’s not complicate things. For now, the only place you can visit her is at our home. And if I find out that this bus has veered off its regular route, you will wish to God that you never met her or me.”

  I thought for sure Samuel was out of my life after that, but he wasn’t. We had dinner at the house Sunday, and we talk on the phone every night, and he said he was going to figure out a way he could take me to my senior prom. I’m not sure I want him to take me to prom, but we will see.

  “Wait, last Sunday? Tell me that wasn’t his red Porsche on the block.”

  “He has a little red car. I don’t know what kind it is. Why, is a Porsche fly?”

  “Very fly. Did he bring his wife and kids to Sunday dinner?”

  “Only a wife. He doesn’t have children.”

  “So, his wife was over your mama’s house?”

  “No, just him and the Peking duck.”

  “You telling me Gloria knows dude is married, and she let him come to dinner?” He quickly tries to look from traffic to my eyes. He thinks he can tell if I am lying by my eyes. He can’t. I lie to him all the time.

  “What you are forgetting, Carlos, is that we are talking about my mama, not yours. When my mama found out his family owns Talbert Transportation Service, Samuel was in. That’s it, and that’s all.”

  “That ain’t right.”

  It may not be right, but that’s my mama. Had Samuel been ugly, twenty-two, and poor, his age would have been a problem, but at six feet three inches, fine, and wealthy, Samuel is okay with Mama. Matter of fact, when he came over Sunday, she was a little too okay with him as far as I am concerned.

  She started asking him about his daddy and any older brothers. It was embarrassing. After dinner, though, he had to leave. She wouldn’t go for us catching a movie on Sunday evening. I think things are going to go pretty smooth with Samuel at home as long as I go at Mama’s pace. She can’t be rushed about him if I want to keep seeing him. And I made up my mind Sunday that I want to keep seeing him.

  I like how it feels to be in his company. He makes me feel more mature, more grown up. I try not to say silly things around him. When we are on the school bus, I talk about adult topics like the news and stuff. But Sunday, I was at home and so relaxed that we ended up talking about things I really have an interest in: movies, actors, concerts that are coming to town, outlet malls, and acting. We were sitting on the couch in the front room, and he said he enjoyed being around me at my home because I was more myself.

  Mama had said we could sit up front a little before he left, so we were sitting on the couch talking. We kissed once, and while we were kissing, I saw his ding-a-ling rising in his pants. Now, that was not much different from the high school boys I date. Kissing gets them started too. Being honest, though, he kissed me so good that I got kind of started too.

  I am not the least bit shy about what pleases me and, when I saw him rising in his jeans, I dropped my hand in his lap. It was a long, slow kiss, so I got a good estimate of his size. It took me twelve slow-counted seconds to drag my finger the length of his ding-a-ling. He’s not only the oldest boy I’ve dated but the biggest, too, and I am a little concerned about that.

  Mama must have been watching from the dining room because as soon as the kiss stopped, she appeared in the living room announcing that it was time for my company to leave.

  She had to have startled Samuel, because he jumped right up, and my mama’s eyes went straight to his bulge. Then she looked at me and left. Over her shoulder, she told me again it was time for Samuel to leave. Mama is a trip.

  The problem now though is how to get her to let me go to the matinee with Carlos and Michelle. I told her last week that Samuel was in the play, so she knows he will be there. I could say it’s a computer club field trip. No, that won’t work. I got to think of something.

  Our school doesn’t have a student parking lot, so Carlos pulls up to the front door to let me out because he will have to drive down the block to look for a parking spot, and he knows I am not walking in this cold weather.

  Getting out of the car I say, “See you at two forty-five. And don’t try to act like you forgot. If you go without me, I’ll tell Michelle about you-know-what.” And he knows what the you-know-what is. He always knows.

  “May, you need to stop with that ‘pee in the bed’ threat. It doesn’t work anymore. Damn, girl, I was nine years old when that happened.”

  “No, you were thirteen. And leave without me, and we will see if it works.”

  I try to slam the door for emphasis, but the Cadillac door won’t slam. It pulls closed on its own power. Carlos laughs at my attempt and drives off.

  I make it to computer lab early, so I run into the bathroom to relieve my stomach. I don’t usually go number two in public, but the chocolate éclair has moved through me, changing my normal actions. Besides, there are only two girls in computer lab, and Michelle is usually late, so I should have some privacy.

  Michelle and I are not really friends, but since we will be spending time together after school today, I really don’t want to stink bomb her. On the first day of class, I attempted a friendly conversation, but the forced smile she responded with crushed that idea.

  As soon as I sit on the toilet, I start relieving myself and hear the door opening. I reach into my purse feeling for cologne or breath spray. Nothing. Oh, well.

  I hear Michelle coughing in response to the odor. I want to laugh out loud but don’t.

  “Is there a boy in here? This is the ladies’ room. That is so rude of you to come in here and do that. I am reporting you to Mr. Griffin.”

  “It’s me, Michelle, May.”

  “Oh, I am sorry. I thought it was a boy fouling the air.”

  She didn’t think I was a boy. She has to see my shoes and purse on the floor. There is only one stall in the small bathroom. Girls like Michelle annoy me, acting like their poop doesn’t stink.

  I go on and finish what I came in here to do. Unfortunately, chocolate makes me gassy, so gaseous noise accompanies the bodily function.

  “Oh, my God, really, May?”
/>   I can no longer hold the laugh. Laughing, I tell her, “Leave. It is only going to get worse.”

  I hear her heels tapping on the tile and the door squeaking open.

  Being in this situation makes me think about Edith. She is my only real female friend remaining from Calumet. When we were little kids, Edith would fart in public, and no one ever suspected her because she looked so cute and innocent. We had a lot of good laughs behind her farts. I need to call her and ask her about Samuel. We haven’t spoken in a couple of weeks. Me being forced to the alternative school has put an unexpected distance between us. Well, my school transfer and her joining church, but I miss my girl.

  Chapter Two

  Carlos doesn’t leave me after school. He is parked at the curb waiting for me. I knew he wouldn’t and not because of the “pee in the bed” threat. He didn’t leave me because he now knows that Michelle wears wigs. My best friend in the world is trying to figure out a way to dump the girl sitting next to him in his mama’s new Cadillac. I open the back door and get in.

  It’s not really his fault that he wants to break up with her. He can’t help it. He is like his mama. Ms. Carol has a hang-up about long hair, and she has passed it on to him. His mama’s hair hangs down to the top of her butt, and Carlos’s braids hang past his shoulders. The only way Michelle can stay the apple of his eye is if her wig topples off and reveals a head full of long hair.

  It’s really sad because he liked her, but now he doesn’t have a clue why he doesn’t like her. I will bet twenty dollars to a nickel that he is relieved that I am sitting in this car with them.

  “Oh, my God, how much Prada do you have on? I am almost choking back here.”