by L. Divine
Smart girl. Mickey’s motherly instincts are finally kicking in, thanks in part to Dr. Whitmore’s special postnatal blend of herbs. I finally told Mickey I switched the pills Misty gave her via Esmeralda with the healthy ones from Dr. Whitmore so she’d continue taking them. The last thing we need is for Mickey to have another meltdown. She was irritated at first, but Mickey has learned to live with it and she’s better off for it. I think both my girls are finally learning to trust my gifts as the blessings they are. I’ve had a hard time dealing with the crazy dreams and other visions that come with my growing powers, but they’re a part of me just like everything else I was born with. My powers aren’t going anywhere so we’d all better get used to having a priestess in the crew.
“How are y’all adjusting to the move?” I ask. We continue walking up the tight paths of clothing, household items, and baby crap everywhere the eye can see. It’s amazing we can find anything in this place.
“It’s actually the best thing for our little family,” Mickey says, eyeing the glass-enclosed gold jewelry along the aisles. “Nigel and me have more time together and the baby sleeps through the night now that we can close the door and chill in the living room. Not to mention we have our own bathroom. I love it.”
I’m sure Mickey does because it’s a step up for her. But I know Nigel’s having a hard time leaving his mini mansion where he had his own floor and all the amenities of a retired NBA player’s only son. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s seriously doubting his decision to move out of his parents’ house, but love will make us all do some crazy things.
“How’s Jeremy?” Nellie asks, bringing up the thorn in my side. Why did she have to go there, and on such a pleasant afternoon, too?
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him since his pop-up visit over the weekend.” I take stock of the packs of white socks and underwear in one section to compare it to the multiple others I’ll run into by the time it’s all said and done. There’s no point in paying full price at the swap meet when everything’s negotiable.
My girls look at me and then at each other before rolling their eyes. I look around knowing that heat wasn’t for me.
“What was that all about?” I know these heffas don’t have anything to say about my relationship status.
Neither Mickey nor Nellie are experts when it comes to love. Nellie chose some punk she met at church over Chance, and Mickey’s in no position to give anyone advice about relationships, especially not when it comes to cheating. She wrote the book on lying to your partner and getting away with it.
“You’re tripping, that’s what,” Mickey says, stopping at one of the many jewelry counters in the sprawling place. She eyes wedding sets wishing Nigel would buy her a bigger ring and make it official. I say Mickey better learn to count her blessings and slow her roll. The fact she and Nigel are living together is a miracle in and of itself. She needs to be happy with the dainty diamondlike promise ring she’s got and call it a day. Nigel’s an exceptional dude to claim another man’s baby and stick it out with Mickey’s high maintenance ass.
“How is it that my boyfriend’s the cheater and I’m the one being persecuted?” Really? This is how it’s going to be. I thought at least my girls would hold my grudge with me.
“He didn’t cheat on you, Jayd. Damn, lighten up.” Mickey sucks her teeth in disgust.
“It was just a kiss,” Nellie says, also eyeing the jewelry inside the case. The Chinese saleswoman behind the counter gestures toward the earrings, rings, and various necklaces and charms to see if my girls want to try anything on. They both shake their heads and continue daydreaming. These days we’re all strapped for cash.
Mickey’s got a skewed view of loyalty within relationships so I know she thinks she’s being reasonable. But Nellie’s much more conservative with her views. I’m surprised by her forgiving attitude. I guess it’s from all the churching she’s been doing lately. Maybe I should introduce her to Pastor Halitosis. They might hit it off and Nellie may be just the girl to improve his style—bad breath and all.
“Nellie, if Jeremy was your boyfriend would you be so forgiving ? All Chance did was leave for the summer and you didn’t show him any love.”
Nellie slits her dark, brown eyes at me, flipping her blond-streaked weave over her right shoulder. I’ll be so grateful when she gets off of this blond kick. At least it’s not completely blond like it was before she got her tracks tightened last week. That was too much for all of us to bare, including Chance.
“That was totally different, Jayd.” Nellie is living on an island of denial all by herself. “Besides, everything is not what it seems. You don’t know what really happened between Jeremy and Cameron.”
Something about Nellie’s guarded answer tells me she knows more about the situation than she’s letting on. Cameron’s an extended member of the rich bitch crew Nellie’s been trying so desperately to hold on to. But when she gives up her Homecoming crown next month she’ll officially turn in her membership card to that crew along with it. Unless she wins Homecoming princess or queen this year her days of hanging with Laura, Tania, and the rest of their wannabes are in the past and I for one am glad for it.
“I agree with Nellie. What you need to do is check that trick as soon as you see her perky, white ass Monday. I bet she’ll confess the whole truth and nothing but the truth if you step to her correctly.”
“That’s not what I said,” Nellie says with a mortified look on her face. What’s she so afraid of? She knows how Mickey is—when all else fails, our girl goes straight for the jugular.
“Mickey, I’m not trying to fight anyone on the first day of school. That’s all I need to start my year off on the wrong foot again.” Bad memories of my first day back to South Bay High last year come to the front of my mind. I didn’t even make it off the bus before this chick, Trecee, fronted me about KJ’s trifling ass because of some shit Misty started. I’m so happy I have my mom’s car to roll I don’t know what to do.
“Jayd, are you getting soft on me, girl?” Mickey says, playfully punching me in my left shoulder. “Where’s the Compton at, girl?” Mickey’s so stupid.
“It’s right here, chick,” I say, returning the soft punch. “Don’t get it twisted because I want to graduate this year.” I’ve never had to fight Mickey and wouldn’t want to go there. Between the two of us, I think I’d eventually wear Mickey’s ass down, but it would be an even match making for an ugly battle no one wants to witness, least of all me.
Nellie shakes her head and smiles at us. We do make quite the trio. The other customers look at us and keep moving. As long as there’s no gun involved nobody really gives a damn what we do, as long as we spend money while doing it.
“Speaking of celebrations, what are we doing for my birthday?” Mickey asks, flipping through the various racks of knockoff designer jeans. Nellie turns up her nose at the illegal apparel, but her eyes brighten when she notices the imitation Gucci bags across the way. There’s something for everyone at the Compton Fashion Center.
“You mean our birthday,” Nellie says, rolling her eyes at our girl before checking out the pretty bags.
My girls are a mess. It’s Mama’s birthday I’m more concerned with. It’s this Sunday with Labor Day right after, and then the first day of school. Usually Mama, Netta, and I would spend the day shopping and eating, maybe even catching a movie. Mickey and Nellie’s birthdays are later in the month and a week apart. Usually they celebrate separately, which has always served me well. That way I can focus all of my attention on Mama and not have to deal with my girls competing for everyone’s attention, including mine.
“Fine, whatever. Our birthdays. Are we going to dinner, throwing a party or what?” Mickey picks out a size four jeans and a shirt to match. She’s looking more and more like her pre-baby self and feeling like it, too.
“Oooh, we should throw a dinner party at Benihana’s. Tania’s family threw her a beautiful baby shower at the one in Beverly Hills,” Nellie says, smell
ing the fake bag before trying it on. I got my Coach bag from here a couple of years ago and it lasted me well until Jeremy bought the real Lucky bag I’ve been sporting for the past year.
Mickey and I look at Nellie like she’s lost her mind. I feel for my girl being excommunicated from the rich bitch crew, but she has to know it was for the best. Her family may be financially better off than Mickey’s and mine, but she’s far from rich. The sooner Nellie comes back down to Earth the better.
“Nellie, you’re tripping if you think we’ve got money to spend on some fool flipping knives in the air and starting fires and shit,” Mickey says, claiming more clothes for her ever-growing stack.
I couldn’t have said it better myself. It’s been hard enough trying to conserve what money I have left from a very profitable first half of the summer. I’ll be damned if I’m giving up any of it for a show. As a matter of fact, I’ll pass on purchasing anything today and wait until I get my check from the church. Besides, I like the selection at Target better. I place my few items down on the counter and endure the evil stare from the salesman who’ll reluctantly have to return them to their rightful spot. Oh, well. I have the right to change my mind and I just did.
“Mickey, you’re so ghetto sometimes, I swear. You need to expand your horizons.” Nellie holds onto her new purse and eyes everything else like it’s shit on the bottom of her shoe.
Sometimes? Has Nellie met Mickey? Ain’t nothing changed about Mickey except for the fact she’s a mother now. Aside from that our girl’s as real as ever with the acrylic claws to prove it.
“I’ll expand them by adding shrimp to the menu. How’s that?” Mickey counts her loot and looks around to see if there’s anything she missed before paying for it. She’s got enough clothes to last her the entire year, but I know this is only her wardrobe for the first two weeks. Mickey wouldn’t be caught dead in the same outfit twice within the first month of school.
Nellie laughs at Mickey and I can’t help but to laugh at them both. I agree with Nellie; Mickey should definitely open her mind a bit, but we have to start with baby steps. To throw Mickey into Beverly Hills dining is like throwing a baby lion to a pack of hungry hyenas—the snooty broads on the west side would eat her alive just because they can.
“Okay then. A cocktail party it is.” Nellie has to put her boogie touch on it or it’s not real to her.
Mickey and I exchange a smile, shake our heads and let our girl have her way with words. They’ll only be seventeen, but to Nellie, every birthday is golden.
As Nellie pays for her non-designer bag, Mickey pulls me to the side and I already know what it’s about. I don’t blame her for not telling Nellie about her pen pal. She did let it slip that Nellie has a new friend in front of Chance a couple of weeks ago, creating more tension than need be before they officially called it quits. Friend or not, it would be just like a broad to pay Mickey back by not-so-accidentally telling Nigel about the letter Mickey’s ex-man sent.
“Did you work on ridding me of that nigga’s bull?” Mickey whispers. The fear in her eyes is real and I feel for my girl. Her ex-boyfriend is the craziest gangster I know and she’s right to be concerned.
“Not yet. Did you tell Nigel?” Even if he would be pissed as all get-out I still think she should tell him. When in a relationship, keeping secrets is the quickest way to end up single.
“Hell no and I’m not going to. If you handle it for me he’ll never need to find out.”
When will Mickey ever learn she can’t keep covering her tracks? Sooner or later the truth always rears its head and it’s never a pretty sight. Before we can get too deep into the conversation an unwelcomed visitor approaches us with all the nerve she’s got and then some.
“What’s up, bitches?” Misty says, immediately causing Mickey to snap her neck and take a step toward our schoolmate.
I choose to ignore my best friend turned sworn enemy. Other than Esmeralda, Misty’s the only person who can make me see red. I’d think Misty would’ve learned her lesson about messing with Mickey and in public no less, but apparently young dogs can’t learn new tricks.
“You’re the only bitch I see,” Mickey says, speaking for the three of us. Nellie shakes her head knowing it’s about to go down. She pulls her new bag out of the plain black plastic bag the saleslady put it in and displays it proudly on her shoulder for all to see. Nellie’s secret is safe with me. Mickey, on the other hand, will call her boogie ass out and let everyone know her Gucci bag has never even seen a Gucci store if she gets out of hand.
“Mickey, let’s finish our shopping. We have to get back to Nickey before it gets too late,” Nellie says in an attempt to diffuse the already tense situation before it gets out of hand.
I look into Misty’s bright blue eyes and feel something more than the usual is off about my frenemy who looks satisfied that she’s riled us up, smiling at our reaction. Nellie nudges Mickey’s left shoulder and she finally moves forward leaving the drama behind, as we all should. Mickey has a daughter to think about and can’t afford any more fights even if she would be justified in whipping Misty’s ass. She could argue that she’s doing a public service for the community by ridding us all of Misty’s crap.
“See you heffas next Tuesday,” Misty says, walking past me as my girls lead the way to the front of the busy swap meet. “By the way, Jayd. You look lovely in your whites.”
“Whatever,” I say, rolling my eyes at Misty, who smiles coyly in return. I stop dead in my tracks knowing I didn’t just see fangs in this trick’s mouth. And not only that, Misty’s eyes seem to be glowing on their own.
“You didn’t think you were the only iyawo with growing powers, did you?” Misty whispers into my ear as I attempt to pass her by, her eyes growing brighter by the second. Does anyone else notice this shit?
“What the hell?” I say under my breath in total disbelief. Misty’s eyes are a luminous blue and her hair is loose around her face and getting thicker. Am I tripping or is this bitch turning into a werewolf before my eyes? I rub my eyes like I just woke up from a nap and look at Misty again who’s still showing off her new tricks. Oh, hell no. Something’s definitely wrong with me because this can’t be possible.
“Get a grip, Jayd. You may be from the almighty Williams Women bloodline, but y’all ain’t the only ones who can switch shit up. Remember that.” Misty snaps at me like she’s taking a bite of rawhide, turns around and walks away leaving me in a state of shock.
“Jayd, are you okay?” Nellie asks, coming back for me. Mickey is slightly ahead of us both, making her way toward the front of the large space.
“Yeah. I guess I’m just seeing things.” I hope that’s the case, but everything in my body tells me I just encountered some unnatural shit. I need to get home and talk to Mama about Misty’s transformation. That shit can’t be normal. “I’m going to head out,” I say. Chilling with my crew will have to wait. Misty’s growing teeth and bright eyes take priority over new gear and gossip any day.
“Jayd, where are you going? I thought you were coming over Rah’s house afterwards?” Mickey asks, looking concerned. She just missed the show, but I have a feeling it was only meant for me to see.
“I’ll catch up with y’all later. I forgot I had to take care of something before it gets too late. Tell everyone I said hey and kiss Nickey for me.”
I hate to admit it, but hell yeah I thought I was the only one out of me, Misty, and Emilio whose powers would be off the chain after our initiations. I don’t know much about what Misty can and can’t do now that her evil godmother’s got her claws deep in my nemesis, but whatever Misty’s assumed powers are shouldn’t come with fangs of any type—that I know for sure. So what the hell was that all about?
It took me less than the usual ten minutes for me to drive from one side of Compton to the other. All of the men are home, but Mama’s nowhere to be found. Apparently she and Netta had some work to do at a client’s house and won’t be back any time soon. I don’t know what to do abou
t what I saw, but I know it was real and not a crazy vision or daydream. I’ve been sleeping better than ever with my head still wrapped in white like the rest of my body. Hopefully my crazy days are all behind me. After seeing Misty with two extra-sharp teeth I kind of wish my insane visions weren’t a thing of the past just yet.
Rather than deal with my grandfather, uncles, and Jay I head to the backyard for some serious spirit time. I lock the dilapidated wooden gate separating the front yard from the back behind me and walk quietly up the driveway. The last thing I want is to engage anyone in conversation. From what I can see across the side gate Esmeralda’s house is dark and no one’s home. If Esmeralda came outside I don’t think I’d be able to deal with her evil ways anymore this evening. All I can think about is Misty’s two, long canine teeth exposed through her glossy red lips. The last thing that girl needs is another weapon in her arsenal.
Reaching the back house I open the door and turn the light switch in to the on position instantly illuminating the intimate space. Mama’s been busy and she’s got the sticky notes to prove it. Large and small pink and yellow squares with Mama’s fancy script cover every cabinet in the small kitchen. Some have lists of ingredients; others have a checklist of all the things Mama needs to get done in a day. There’s always work to do in Mama’s world.
I set my purse down on the kitchen table next to the wounded spirit book and sigh deeply. One of my major projects is to redo the burnt cover of the ancient text since it was partially because of my neglect the book was burned by my crazy uncle Kurtis in the first place. I’m not sure how to tackle rebinding the leather book, but I’ll get started by taking it apart while I look for a passage to tell me about my former friend turning into an animal instead of wearing whites for weeks. What kind of head cleansing did Misty receive?