by Ni-Ni Simone
“Do you wanna come with us?”
“Awwl, that’s so sweet, Shae,” he said. “Sure, I’ll go if you insist.”
I chuckled as someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” I said.
The door opened and Khya stuttered, “Hey, cutie—I mean strapping—I mean lil daddy. Dang, I keep messing your name up.”
“Zaire,” he said.
“Yeah, hey, Zaire.”
“Wassup, ma?” He nodded at Khya and then to Shae.
“Is Chaz with you?” Khya asked.
“Nah, I think he may still be at practice,” Zaire said, never taking his eyes from me. “Seven, I need to speak to you for a minute.”
“Yeah,” Shae said, “y’all handle that. Come on, Khya and Courtney, it’s time to roll.” Shae walked past me and whispered, “His name is Zaire, not Josiah.”
“So you three are just going to leave me, right?” I asked in disbelief.
“Bye-bye,” Shae mouthed to me and blew me a kiss. “Behave.”
The door closed behind them, and instead of looking directly at Zaire, I picked up a fashion magazine and thumbed through it. “So wassup?”
“Did you see me standing in the parking lot?” Zaire asked.
“Yep,” I said, as I continued to look through the magazine. “Oule, I think I’ma get these shoes.” I tapped my index finger on the page.
“Did you hear me calling you?”
“Oule, I like these jeans.”
“Seven—”
“Hmm?” I leafed through the pages.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Yeah, I hear you.”
“I would like for you to look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
I looked up and quickly diverted my eyes from his face. “I’m listening.”
He walked over to me, softly placed his hand on my chin, and turned my face in his direction. “I’m Zaire, not Josiah.”
“Really?” I blinked twice. “ ‘Cause the way you had that chick all up in your face, you two surely looked a lot alike to me.”
“Check it, if I was kicking it with the chick standing at my truck or anybody else, I would be straight up and tell you—”
I twisted my lips. “You would tell me?”
“Hell, yeah, what I need to lie to my homie for?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Listen, see this whole conversation we’re having is not something I’ma keep having with you. That girl I was talking to is someone I have a class with. Period. I missed class the other day; she made me a copy of her notes and gave them to me. That’s it. Now if you have a problem with the situation and the label that you gave us, then you clean it up. I already told you how I felt about you too many times to count. But you’re holding our life together hostage over something Josiah did.”
“That’s not true!”
“Then what do you call it?”
“How do you think I felt when I saw you with that girl today?”
“Love, I would never disrespect you by kicking it to some chick on campus of all places. As a matter of fact, you’re the only one I’m kicking it to period. I don’t think about anybody else but you. So I tell you what, when you get yourself together you call me; ‘cause I don’t wanna be your homie anymore. I’m done playing with that.” He took two steps back.
“Well, then you have to do what you have to do.”
“You still acting tough, huh? Even though it’s obvious that’s not how you feel.”
Silence.
“A’ight, if you cool wit’ it, then I am too.”
“Yup, I’m straight.”
“That’s wassup.” He gave me a pound and turned toward the door.
He placed his hand on the doorknob and I said, “Wait.” I swallowed. “Don’t go.” The sound of my voice was so low it was practically a whisper.
“I’m through with waiting,” he said.
“Zaire, it’s soooo hard moving past hurt and trusting someone new.”
“Seven, have I given you a reason to think I would hurt you? That I would lie to you?”
I shook my head no.
“Then judge me on my own merit, not your ex-boyfriend’s.”
“How do I do that”—I bit into my bottom lip and walked over to Zaire—“when I’m scared that the same thing is going to happen to me all over again.”
“Just let me love you.” He pressed his lips against mine. “Dump the homie title, pick up the one that says you’re my girl, and we can conquer the world from there.”
My heart had said yes right away, but my mind and mouth were stuck on pause and what-ifs. I knew I needed to push past it … but how …?
“Just trust me,” he whispered against my lips. “And let me love you.”
“Okay,” I said as we started to kiss, “I will.”
27
I’m more than just an option …
I took a chance with my heart …
—DRAKE, “FIND YOUR LOVE”
“Yo, you cannot talk about the secret bat cave, a’ight?”
Zaire said as we lay across his couch, studying for midterms.
“I’m just saying that it’s tight.”
“You live in a dorm room with two girls and you’re complaining that my studio apartment is tight?”
“And hot.”
“It’s N’awlins, bey-be, what you expect?”
“Not much, just an air conditioner.”
“I got your air conditioner.” Zaire rolled over and started tickling me.
I cracked up laughing. “All right, all right.”
“Now are you gon’ talk about my spot again?”
“No.” I laughed until I cried. “No.”
“A’ight.” He stopped tickling me and stood up from the couch. He tossed his textbooks into his backpack and said, “Enough studying for now. Besides, I don’t know about you, but I already know I’ma kill my midterms. So I’m good.”
I had to laugh. “So what are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying it: if you don’t master that chart you gon’ have problems. Fa’real.”
“You are so whack, to say something like that. Just because I needed you to help me with studying chemistry doesn’t mean you’re going to get a better grade than me. And besides science is not exactly my thing.”
“I know, it’s English, which is why I don’t know why you won’t change your major.”
“And do what, teach?”
“You can do more than teaching, but what’s wrong with being a teacher?”
“Boy, please.”
“Teaching is a beautiful thing. My mother was a teacher.”
“She was?” I said, surprised, mainly because Zaire never really talked about his mother. “Tell me about her.”
Zaire sat down next to me and started to smile. “She used to teach third grade at a school in the Seventh Ward.”
“Did she like it?”
“She loved it.”
“What kind of person was she?”
“She was funny, and you could talk to her about anything, but she didn’t take any mess.”
I laughed. “Sounds like my mother. What do you miss most about your mom?” I asked him.
“I miss hearing her voice and having her kiss me good night.” I didn’t know what to say to that, so I let him continue talking. “Seven, you have no idea what it is to one day have a family who prayed together, hung out together, laughed all the time, to the next day—the very next day most of your family being dead and the ones left are spread out in places they have never been: Texas, Atlanta, Utah, New York. Yo, most of us, at least from my family, we didn’t venture too far from the Big Easy.”
“Why not?”
“No money, Love. But mostly because we loved our city. To be from New Orleans or N’awlins, bey-be, is to be from a place so rooted in who you are, so entrenched in your heart that to leave here and to live somewhere else—and especially if it wasn’t your choice—is hell.”
“So when the cit
y had to be evacuated, where did you stay?”
“In Utah.”
“Utah?” I frowned. “Really?”
“Yep, Utah.” He nodded his head for confirmation. “Yo, Utah is a beautiful state, filled with orange mountains, but it ain’t for me. My grandmother was so depressed living there she was sick. We went from living in our own home in the only place we knew to living someplace we knew nothing about.”
“How long did you stay there?”
“About six months or so, then we were allowed to come back to New Orleans. Only to find the home we’d known all of our lives was now a pile of sticks and boards, and broken windows.”
“That had to be hard.”
“You don’t know the half of it. We stayed in a FEMA trailer for at least two and a half, three years, and my grandmother was steadily getting sick. No one knew why and then one day she was in the hospital from an asthma attack and it comes across the news that the FEMA trailers were made with formaldehyde.”
“What?!”
“Yep, so now I’m sixteen, it’s nobody and it’s no other man in my family but me. I need my grandmother, otherwise who I’ma have? My family is dead. We weren’t rich and we didn’t have any money. The house we owned was nothing, so the way I saw things I had to do what I had to do.”
“Which was what?”
He paused. “I had to get a job.”
“Doing what?”
He paused again. “Construction. And after a while I saved enough money to have my grandmother’s house rebuilt and she was able to move back home.”
“Wow …” I said, at a loss for words. “It’s hard to imagine you going through that.”
“Well, I did, but I’m straight now.”
“Are you?” I stared at him long and hard.
“I’m getting there.” A moment of silence lingered between us and then he said, “Now come on, get up and let’s go get something to eat.”
I wanted to talk more about his journey, but it was obvious that he didn’t, so when all else failed I said something funny. “All we do is eat. Why are you always feeding me?” I looked at him suspiciously.
“So I guess the movie we caught a few nights back, the bowling, shooting pool, and er’thing else we do doesn’t count, ‘cause you’re too busy counting how many times I feed you. A’ight, so we won’t eat.”
“Maybe you won’t eat, but you gon’ feed me.” I chuckled.
Zaire smiled, reached for my hand, and pulled me toward him. “You know what I dig the most about you?”
“That I’m cute.”
“You a’ight, but you don’t look better than me,” he teased.
“Whatever.”
“Nah, for real, what I’m feeling the most is that we’re really friends along with me being your man. Like we really, really chill and I’m feeling that. You’re different.” He looked at me and our gazes locked.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.” He twirled me around, as if we were making a dance move. “You gon’ mess around and I’ma give up everything for you.”
“Everything like what?” I smiled.
“Like everything.” He held me tightly.
“You love me, don’t you?” I gave him a peck on the lips.
“Yeah, too much.” He slapped me on the behind. “Now let’s go, ‘cause I’m starvin’.”
“Oh,” I said as we walked toward the door, “that’s why we’re always eating, because you’re always hungry.” I cracked up laughing as we stepped outside of the apartment building he lived in. “Let’s go to the Gumbo Pot, Zaire, and we can walk there,” I said.
“A’ight—”
“Yo, hey man,” came from practically nowhere. Zaire and I looked up and it was a tall and extremely skinny man, who scratched the sides of his neck so hard it looked as if he were peeling his skin off. His lips were cracked and chapped. “Yo man,” he said to Zaire. “Can I speak to you for a minute?”
Zaire stood stunned, and for the first time since we’d been together the veins on the side of his neck jumped.
“Yo, homie, pot’nah, my man, please I need to see ya for a minute.” The man stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a palm full of coins. “Let me talk to you for a minute, playboy.”
Zaire turned to me. “Stand there and don’t move.” Don’t ask me why, but suddenly I was scared.
Zaire walked over to the guy, shot him a cold and hard look, and said, “If you ever in your life approach me crazy again, it will be a problem. Now my advice to you is to get the hell on. You understand me?”
The man didn’t answer—he just simply took off running.
“What was that about?” I asked Zaire once the man was out of sight.
“Nothing,” he said, but I could tell his nothing meant something.
“You told me you wouldn’t lie to me,” I reminded him.
“And I haven’t lied to you. Now are you ready?”
“Zaire—”
“Seven, would you trust me? Damn.”
I swallowed. “I never said I didn’t trust you. I just want to know what’s going on? You can tell me anything.”
He paused and stared at me. “Seven,” Zaire said, “it’s cool, a’ight? Now, I’d like something to eat. Are you hungry or are you going back to the dorm?”
A large part of me wanted to bark at him, “I don’t have to stay here and kick it with you.” But I didn’t and mostly because I could tell that whatever just happened here was bothering Zaire a lot more than it bothered me. “Sure,” I said, “let’s eat.”
28
Thought I’d never fall in love,
And then there was you …
—TREY SONGZ, “ALREADY TAKEN”
“I haven’t eaten in two days.” Khya held her stomach.
“And why not?” Shae looked at her as if she were crazy.
“Because I’ve been waiting on Maw-Maw’s Thanksgiving dinner, ya heardz me?”
“No,” Shae said, “what I hear is an ambulance being called any minute because you have passed out.”
“Funny you were eating all day, yesterday, Khya.” Courtney pounded on the wall. “I could’ve sworn that shrimp po-boy was a meal. And if I’m not mistaken, didn’t you have a donut this morning?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be eating chicken butts by now?” Khya spat. “Oh, wait, I forgot you missed your plane, because you were too busy in my business! You should be a private eye. You would put that job to sleep.”
“You think so, Khya?”
“Yup, I’m ‘bout to update my page and put that as my status.”
“Word?” Courtney said, and I could hear him smiling. “So you really believe in me, huh?”
“Oh … my … God …” I shook my head and said, “Please stop giving him career advice; you know he takes it to heart. Now, Zaire and Chaz are downstairs waiting for us, so come on.”
“Sure wish I had somewhere to spend Thanksgiving dinner,” Courtney moaned. “But don’t nobody care about Courtney!”
“Courtney, just come on!” I barked. “Goodness. But I’ma tell you right now, you better be on your best behavior.”
“I’m always well behaved.”
“Awl, get it now! Hot Boyz,” Courtney sang, as we approached Zaire’s truck, “baby, you got what I want, ‘cause you be drivin’ Lexus jeeps and F-150 trucks. We straight up rollin’ in here!” he screamed. “Hey’yay, Zaire!” Courtney slid into the backseat, looked out the window at Shae and Khya, and started throwing up gang signs. “Don’t hate, ‘cause I’m styling. Don’t hate.”
“Could you chill wit’ all that?” Zaire said to Courtney.
“Opps, two snaps up and a fruit loop, let me fall back, ‘cause you look like you gun toting. And the Big Easy is the murder capital, so I’m not trying to piss anybody off down here. Okay?” Courtney slapped the back of his hand and said, “Bad Courtney, bad-bad.”
God must hate me.
Zaire’s eyes clearly burned a hole through me while Courtney
performed in the backseat; and it didn’t help any that Courtney was dressed in a tiger cat suit and a feather bandanna.
This was obviously the reason why Shae rode with Chaz and Khya.
“He didn’t have anywhere else to go,” I mumbled to Zaire. “I couldn’t just leave him.”
“You owe me big time. Huge,” Zaire said as we started to ride.
“Here you go, Zaire.” Courtney handed him a CD. “Slide this in.”
Zaire cut me the evil eye as he slid in Courtney’s CD and suddenly Natalie Cole’s “Unforgettable” filled the air.
“Can you turn that up?” Courtney said.
This is going to be a long ride.
By the time we got to Big-Maw’s house, the ride with Courtney felt like it took an hour as opposed to twenty minutes.
We parked in front of Big-Maw’s house, and once we were out of the truck Courtney whispered to me, “Seven, what in da hell is this?” His eyes scanned the block. “You done brought me over here to Iraq. Have Mercy.”
“Would you shut up?” I said, tight-lipped.
“I’m just saying,” Courtney continued to whisper, “I have a right to my opinion! What would you think if every other house was on the ground? I’m officially scared now, you could’ve left me on campus. I had freeze-dried turkey sandwiches.”
I didn’t even respond to him. I simply walked away.
“I’m so glad y’all came!” Big-Maw met us at the door. “Grandson, you brought home the whole crew, didn’t you? Well, I just love it.”
“Hey’yay! I’m Courtney.” Courtney walked up to Big-Maw and gave her a hug. He looked over at Ling and said, “Look at you, all United Nations up in here.”
Should I smack him now or later?
“And I’m Khya!” Khya hugged Big-Maw. “And you look just like this guy I knew named Jamil’s grandmother.”
“Well, I hope she was a nice lady.”
“She was.” Khya smiled. “And you know ever since Seven told us she ate your food—although she didn’t tell us right away and technically Zaire told me, and I told Shae—but anyway, ever since I heard about how well you cooked I’ve been dying to be a guest at your table.”
“Well,” Big-Maw said, “you are welcome anytime.” She looked at Chaz. “I take it this is the young lady you were telling me about?”