Emako Blue (4 page)

I changed into a tank top and shorts, and went out to the backyard. I dribbled the ball a little, then turned and shot. The ball made the sweetest sound as it slipped into the net and bounced back to me. I thought about Emako and grinned. Yeah, it was destiny.

A couple of days passed before I had the chance to get her alone without Gina’s little watchdog Savannah being on my case. It had just started raining as school let out and I saw her waiting for the bus. I took a deep breath and slipped into player mode.

I touched her on the arm and she turned around.

“You remember me . . . from piano lessons?” I asked.

She looked at me hard like she was trying to remember my face. Then the look changed and she smiled. “Praise the Lord!”

I smiled back. “I could give you a ride home.”

“Cool,” she replied.

This was going to be easier than I thought.

I opened the door for her and she slid into my ride. “Thanks.” She reminded me of chocolate syrup. Brown, sweet, and smooth.

There was heat trapped inside the car and it warmed me as I turned the key. I put in an Aaliyah CD.

“Aaliyah . . . she was too sweet.” She turned up the volume.

I turned on the windshield wipers and made my way out of the parking lot onto the street.

The weather had driven most folks inside, but on some corners men stood selling oversized black-and-white umbrellas, taking advantage of the rain.

“You wanna stop at McDonald’s?” I asked.

“Okay,” she replied.

We picked up some food at the drive-thru and drove to her house. We stayed in the car, eating double cheese-burgers and french fries, and sharing ketchup.

“You got a boyfriend?” I finally asked.

“I got a few that like to come around, but they ain’t about nuthin’. You know. Immature.”

“So you’re looking for a mature brother?”

“That’s right. I’m tired of all this juvenile nonsense.”

“What you think about me?”

“You’re a’ight,” Emako said, and looked at her watch.

“Just a’ight?”

She took a sip of orange soda and I was just getting ready to make a move when she opened the door and got out. “I gotta go. My mama has to go to work. Thanks, Jamal. Peace.”

I lowered my voice. “Yeah, peace.”

I drove away slowly, watching her in the rearview mirror as she walked up the short path to her house, because baby girl was so fine.

Gina was cool, but Emako was mo’ better.

Monterey entered the church and glared at me like I didn’t belong there. I said to myself, No, she did not disrespect me up in here. But you know what? I didn’t let it bother me. I mean, we all had the right to say good-bye to Emako, even me.

I know that most people thought that I was hating on Emako or something, and I suppose I was, but you gotta understand. I mean, the girl had everything going for her. She could sing. And, yeah, she was pretty. I had to give her that too. But she was . . . nice. That was the part that really messed with me. That was the part I didn’t trust. I thought she was just acting and I was waiting for her mask to come off so that I could see what was underneath.

Now, if Emako had been like me, we would have been too tight. But no matter what I did to that girl, she wouldn’t let me pull her down into my little hell. That’s too deep, huh?

I looked around the church. I was sorry. But now I would never be able to tell her that. So, I suppose Emako had won the battle. The war had started at the beginning of the year.

By October, I was already wishing the year were over. I was too tired of getting up at 6:30, five days a week. School sucked.

Emako was talking to Mr. Santos when I showed up at chorus that day and Jamal was staring at her like he’d been hypnotized. Again. Jamal was trying to be a player, but I was keeping an eye on him because his girlfriend, Gina, was my best friend. Gina and I lived in the same neighborhood and we had gone to the same private school before they kicked me out because I failed geometry and refused to go to summer school. What did I look like, a mathematician?

I went over to where he was standing and got in his face.

“Why you always trippin’, Savannah?” he said.

“Because Gina is my girl and I’m sure she would like to know that you are in here tryin’ to get in ghetto girl’s face. I mean, do I look like I’m blind?”

“No, it just looks like you’re ugly!” Jamal raised his voice.

“Get outta my face. I don’t know why Gina wants to be with you anyway. You ain’t even on her level.”

“But I’m fine.”

I sneered at him. “Shut up.”

“Thought so,” Jamal said, having the last word.

Eddie started to laugh.

“What you laughin’ at, Eddie? You ain’t even in this,” I said.

Before Eddie could say anything, Mr. Santos got out his tuning forks and told us to be quiet. I thought to myself, What kind of a name is that for a sister, Emako? Like having a Japanese name was going to stop her from being ghetto.

Emako began to sing and took over the room with that voice. I looked her over from head to toe. I thought about the house in the hills with the view of the city and the swimming pool that I went home to every day, and that made me feel good, like I had something that she didn’t.

After an hour of the Emako show, previously called chorus, I went outside and waited for my mother. She pulled up in her new white Mercedes and I got in.

“How was school?” she asked.

“Same as every day, boring,” I replied.

I switched the channel on the radio to 100.3, The Beat, and pumped up the volume.

“Turn that ghetto music down,” my mother said.

“It’s not ghetto music. Everyone listens to it, even white kids.”

“Even white kids. That makes it okay?”

“That’s not what I meant. Why is everyone on my case today? Could you just get off my back! Turn on whatever you want or just turn it off! Whatever!”

“Why are you so upset? I just asked you to turn the music down,” she asked.

I turned off the radio. “Just leave me alone.”

My mother took a deep breath and sighed.

We drove the rest of the way in silence.

When we got home, my mother’s silky terrier, Lillie, met us at the front door, yelping. My mother picked her up in her arms and kissed her. Sometimes I think my mother loves that little dog more than she loves me. I hated that dog.

I went to my room and sat down to check my e-mail. I looked down at the ring on my pinkie finger that had a real diamond, not a cubic z, then looked at myself in the mirror. I thought about Emako and decided to start a little something.

I thought I would have to wait awhile for the perfect opportunity, but I didn’t. The next day before lunch, I went into the bathroom and there she was. Alone.

“Hey, Emako,” I said as the door closed behind me.

Emako was standing in front of the mirror, putting on lip gloss. She turned and smiled. “Hey, Savannah.”

I walked over to the mirror and stood beside her. I stared into the mirror at her reflection. “I need to talk to you,” I said.

“About what?” she asked.

“About Jamal.”

“What about him?”

“His girlfriend, Gina, is my best friend. We used to go to the Cartwright School together. Have you ever heard of that school?”

“Not really,” Emako replied.

“It’s in Beverly Hills.”

“Oh.”

“Gina’s father is a judge.”

“What’s that got to do with Jamal?”

“I see him tryin’ to be all up on you. But I suppose you’re used to that.”

“Ain’t nuthin’.”

“Anyway, Jamal and Gina been together for two years. Real tight. And sometimes Jamal tries to be a player. But he always gets back with Gina when he’s finished with his little chicken heads.”

“I’m not a little chicken head.”

“I know that, and that’s why I wanted to let you know. So you won’t get your feelings hurt. I’m just tryin’ to be nice.” I gave her my most sincere look, hoping she would swallow it.

Emako turned away from the mirror and looked me in the face. “I’ll remember that.”

When I got to the church, I started looking for the holy water. Then I remembered that it wasn’t a Catholic church. I made the sign of the cross anyway.

There were plenty of people everywhere and by the time I found a seat, the minister had already started talking. Someone put a hand on my shoulder and I turned around and stared into Monterey’s bloodshot eyes. She squeezed my hand and I watched the tears roll down her cheeks, but I kept my tears. I stayed strong. Strong.

I let go of her and looked forward, listening to the minister’s words. Sobs and moans were coming from everywhere. Sorrow floated through the air.

I pictured Emako with angel’s wings, flying through the church like she was happy. I know it wasn’t right, but I started to smile. You have to understand. She sang like a
pájarito,
like a bird.

I had been in the chorus last year. We’d do these concerts at Christmas, and Mr. Santos was teaching us to read music. He was cool and I liked to sing. Besides, I thought it would look good on my transcripts.

The first time I saw Emako, I thought she looked good, but I was always shy around girls like her.

The one I really wanted to talk to was her friend Monterey. I thought she was cute, but every time I said something to her, she acted nervous.

One day I tried to talk to Monterey after practice. She was standing beside Emako.

“Hey, Eddie,” Emako said.

“Hey,” I replied.

Monterey grinned at me without showing her braces, but she didn’t say anything, so I said to Emako, “You have a fantastic voice.”

“Thanks,” was her reply. She gave me a funny look and I hoped she didn’t think I was trying to come on to her.

Monterey just stared at me.