Lady J (11 page)

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Authors: L. Divine

BOOK: Lady J
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“It's an open relationship, Jayd. Why can't you accept that?” He sounds both sincere and stupid.
“Because you didn't discuss it with me,” I say. I don't want to argue with him right now, but it's all coming out and I'm going to let it flow. “You thought that my only issue was that I couldn't be your girlfriend, so you made me one of your girlfriends, thinking that would make me happy—and that's insulting. You should know me better than that by now,” I say, following him into the studio. He switches the lights on low and grabs the remote for the sound system. Sam Cook's melodic voice creeps out of the speakers, putting us in a mellower mood. It's been an intense morning and I just want to chill for a little while.
“I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do. You know I hate hurting people,” he says, taking a seat next to me on the couch. He grabs the herb box on the table and opens it, taking out a half-smoked blunt and a lighter. After a few puffs he passes it to me, knowing I don't smoke.
“Are you that high already?” I say, still waiting for him to get back to the topic on the floor.
“No, but it'll mellow you out. Besides, you ain't got no job and you ain't got shit to do,” Rah says, mimicking Chris Tucker.
“This ain't
Friday
, fool,” I say, pushing his hand away and making myself comfortable in the cozy room. I could use a nap myself, and the inevitable high from Rah's smoke will help me rest well.
“Nah, but it's still good medicine for a stressful situation.” Rah is so silly sometimes. Unlike him, I don't want to chill when it comes to certain issues, like Trish.
“Look, I never asked you to choose between me and Trish, because I knew you weren't ready to let that go,” I say, not even wanting to sound like I care about the trick. My only concern in this situation is me and my feelings. To hell with anyone else right now. “And I'm cool with that. But don't make me a target for the girl to come after. And that's exactly what you've done by opening your relationship up.”
“How, when it's a compromise? I was planning on breaking up with her, but I know that would crush her and it's the beginning of the school year, too. It's bad timing for her socially, you feel me?” Ah, a private insight into the social logic of Westingle.
“No, I don't. But, that's not my concern. I say we stay friends that flirt. It's easier than trying to build a relationship on a weak foundation.” His look of recognition says I've made my point. His droopy eyes say it's time to stop talking and take a rest.
“You still braiding my hair when we wake up, right?” Rah says, stretching his legs across the couch and laying his head in my lap. He's nothing if not confident.
“Yeah, I'll hook you up.” As I doze off, I can't help but wonder how we got to this point. And where can we go from here?
After sleeping the rest of the morning and a good chunk of the afternoon away, Rah and I wake up and eat like we haven't had a morsel of food all week. After lunch, we get busy braiding, and Rah can also get a little work done, but not before I finish my grill from earlier. I'm wide awake now and ready to hash it out some more. I want him to understand fully where I'm coming from.
“Rah, why can't we go to the movies or just go hang somewhere?” That's one of the things I miss most about my relationship with Jeremy. He would take me out every weekend. All Rah and I ever do is sit up in the house or at the studio, and that's getting to be a bit tedious.
“Because I have to work on the weekends, Jayd. You know this,” he says, bending his head so I can get the part straight. His new beat fills the room, making it difficult to have a conversation, and I know he's doing it on purpose.
“Rah, can you tone it down, please? I'm trying to talk to you,” I say, greasing his scalp before I pull the braid into shape. I'm almost finished with his head and want to go back to my mom's after I'm done. It's almost four now and I want to go home, shower and change before we hang out this evening.
“Jayd, haven't we talked enough this morning?” he says, reluctantly turning the music down. “And we do go out. Didn't I take you out to eat last night?”
“You call going to a drive thru going out?” I say, smacking him in the head with the hard comb before parting my next braid. “Are you ashamed of me or something?”
“No, girl, come on,” he says, bending his head back into my thighs and looking up at me. “I could never be ashamed of you.” As Rah straightens his neck and I continue to braid, I can't help but wonder if Trish knows he's still courting me. I'm sure she's both suspicious and jealous. And if I know anything about chickenheads it's that they cluck loudest when they feel threatened; Trish has already proven that to be true.
“Rah, does Trish know you're trying to make me wifey number two?” I ask. His entire upper body tenses while my fingers work their magic on his scalp. Normally he'd be melting like butter by now.
“She knows we're building,” he says, expertly evading a straight answer. “And that's all she needs to know. What we do is our business,” he says, caressing my ankles as I finish the last braid.
“Then why can't we go out and kick it on a real date?” Pushing his head forward, I swing my right leg over him and rise from the couch. I have been sitting for over an hour and need to move around. “Come on, take me to the marina.”
“No, Jayd,” he says sternly. His look is so serious it gives me the chills.
“What aren't you telling me?” I say, standing over him and forcing him to look up at me. “You really didn't tell her you wanted an open relationship, did you?” If this boy is lying I swear I'm never talking to him again—ever.
“Trish knows what's up, Jayd. But, like I said, I don't like hurting people and she's been through a lot with me, just like you have.”
“Then what is it? And tell me the truth.” As the saying goes, silence is golden and Rah's speechlessness has hit the jackpot for me. Whatever he isn't saying is big.
“Look, I just don't want it getting back to Trish where we are and what we do,” he says. I know he's not telling me he can't take me out because he's afraid of what people will say. What the hell?
“So she gets to be the public wifey and I get the studio time, is that it?” I knew it was too good to be true. He came back into my life, making me fall for him all over again, only to keep me on a string and never allow me in all the way.
“No, that's not it at all,” he says, getting up and taking my hands, forcing me to look at him through my tears. “Look, Jayd, I'm just trying to protect you. You have to trust me on this one. Now isn't the right time to show you off to the world. Otherwise there would be no need to compromise at all. You'd be my queen in the studio, at the marina and everywhere else.”
“What does she have on you?” I ask. I know she knows about his hustling, but I wonder if she has anything to do with it.
“Her older brother is my main supplier,” he says, finally telling the whole truth. I knew she wasn't but a stone's throw away from being a hoodrat. Got damn, I knew it was something big, but not like this. “And she's literally shed blood for me dealing with my baby-mama drama, so she's not going to go away just because I'm not feeling her like I used to.”
“Yeah, I guess not after all that y'all have been through together,” I say, trying to be sympathetic. But I don't like my friend being forced to stay in a relationship he doesn't want; I don't care who her brother is. In my hood, intimidation only works on the weak and none of my friends are weak. And even in their time of need, my friends have a secret weapon they don't even know about: me. When I get home tomorrow, I'm going to get to work on helping both Rah and Misty see their way out of their individually tangled webs.
11
Not In My Hood
“If the road to the riches lead through my hood/ Then it's best you change y'alls route.”
—BOYZ N DA HOOD
 
 
W
hen my mom picked me up from work, I was worn out. Marty was a bigger bitch than ever today and Summer and Shahid were nowhere around to help. I'm ready to get home and chill out for the rest of the evening, even if chilling in my world means catching up on my school and spirit work. Mama's been so distracted by Esmeralda that she hasn't given me any new lessons. But I'm still working on the power of my thoughts assignment she gave me last time. I think I'm getting the hang of it, at least the thinking part. Silently observing is still a challenge for me.
 
“Have you told Mama about Karl yet?” my mom asks as she pulls up to Mama's house. We haven't spent much time together since her new man landed in our lives, but she seems genuinely happy this time around, so I'm done hating on her. She's lucky I'm a good girl. Otherwise her apartment would be party central, as much as she leaves me alone in it.
“No, I didn't think you wanted me to say anything,” I say, grabbing my bags from the back. “Has that changed?”
“Well, I'm going to tell her in my own time. Karl's different, and I don't want to jinx it, but I think he may be here to stay.” My mom sounds like she's my age and talking about her first love. I've never seen her so giddy before. It's almost sickening, especially since my love life is so tumultuous all of the time. Am I going to have to wait until I'm in my thirties to find true and stable love?
“
Maybe, you never know. But the blessing is in finding love at all
,” my mom says, looking at me and smiling, never actually saying a word.
“Does your man know he can't hide his thoughts from you?” I say. She rests her head on the soft gray headrest and looks out of the window. The neighbors are wrapping up their Sunday evening duties of watering the grass and catching up on the weekend gossip.
“Jayd, you'll soon find out, if you don't already know, that men can only handle so much information,” she says, turning to face me. The setting sun makes her green eyes even more luminous. I'm sure Karl doesn't have any complaints about the Lynn Marie he knows and loves. “
You've got that right
.”
“If it gets serious, you're going to have to tell him eventually.” My mom's the queen of secret-keeping. And, like most secrets, they always find a way out.
“Hell no, I don't have to tell him a damned thing,” she says. “Look, Jayd, I'm not like you. I don't get into our lineage like you do and I can't use my powers on anyone else but you, so this really doesn't affect him at all.” Mama steps out of the house and onto the front porch, looking toward Esmeralda's house, until she notices us sitting in the car in the driveway.
“Lynn Marie, were you planning on coming in to say hello this time, or just do a drop-off like you did last weekend?” Mama asks. “You should at least come greet the family shrine every now and again.”
“Hi Mama,” my mom says, rolling her eyes. She's lucky Mama can't see her clearly because I know she'd get a slap for that one, no matter how old she is. “I was in a hurry last Sunday and this one too. So, Jayd, get to scooting. I'll see you next weekend, baby,” she says, giving me a kiss on the cheek before pushing me out of her car. “And Jayd, you can keep our talk between us, if you catch my drift.” Loud and clear, and I know she heard me.
“How was your weekend, baby?” Mama says from the porch where she's picking the dead petals off her roses. Daddy doesn't do much around the house if it doesn't involve working on his cars. But the one thing he does for Mama is keep the yard up.
“It was okay. Work sucked, but what else is new,” I say, making my way up the driveway to give Mama a hug.
“And, how's your mother's new man?” she says, like we've talked about Karl before, and I know my mom hasn't told her anything. Mama's good at fishing for information. I can't lie to Mama and I can't rat my mom out. What do I do?
“You know my mom doesn't talk to me about that kind of stuff,” I say, passing Mama to go into the house. “It smells like fried fish and hush puppies in here.” I love it when Mama makes fish. Her batter is gold, flaky and sweet and the fish is always juicy. She must've gone fishing with Netta this morning. That also means there was some spiritual work done. Mama never goes to the river, lake or any other body of water without bringing something for Oshune.
“Jayd, you didn't answer me, and I know your mom talks to you or around you about her men,” Mama says, passing me up in the dining room to enter the kitchen. She takes the last of the sizzling round hush puppies out of the cast iron skillet and places them on the plate covered in paper towels. I put my bags down on the dining room floor and wash my hands in the sink. “I'm worried about my daughter. All you have to do is answer me and I won't be worried anymore.” Damn, she's good.
“They're very happy and that's all I know,” I say, taking one of the golden brown hush puppies and popping it into my mouth. “Mama, you put your foot in this food,” I say, taking another one and then looking into the other five covered plates on the table. She's got enough food here to feed the household, but I already know it's not for them. Daddy's probably eating dinner at the church and who knows where my uncles are.
“What's up, Jayd,” my cousin Jay says as he enters the kitchen, rubbing his belly. “Something smells good in here.”
“Jay, go wash up and get ready to eat before I serve this food up,” Mama says, exiting the kitchen to get her good dishes out of the china cabinet and coming back into the kitchen. “Jayd, wash these plates so we can feed the ancestors and Orisha before we eat.”
“Yes ma'am.” I reluctantly take the heavy plates and put them in the sink. I want to throw down now. How come Jay gets to sleep all day and as soon as I walk in the door, Mama's got work for me?
“What's that look on your face, Jayd?” Mama says, dishing out rice and vegetables on a plate—for Jay, I assume.
“Mama, how come you didn't tell Jay to wash the dishes?” I already know she's going to say I'm whining or something like that. But I'm tired of the men skating on easy around here—and everywhere else, from what I can see.
“Girl, stop complaining and dry those dishes off. Here's your plate, Jay. Make it good because that's all you're getting,” she says, passing him his dinner. He attempts to come in the kitchen, but Mama blocks his way.
“Can a brotha at least get some hot sauce?” he says. Mama opens the cabinet above the counter and passes him a bottle of Red Rooster. “Thank you,” he says, taking his usual seat on the couch to watch MTV for the remainder of the evening. I hardly ever get to watch television when I'm here. Jay never brings home any homework on the weekends, unlike myself. I don't believe that Compton High doesn't give it out as much as Jay chooses not to do it. He's probably the most nonchalant teenager I know.
“Jayd, we've got work to do. I know you feel like I make you work harder than the boys and you're right,” she says, taking the three clean plates and putting them on the table before piling them with food. “I expect more from you because the world does. So get used to constantly working: that's what women do, especially mothers.” I knew I should've kept my mouth shut. Mama gives no sympathy when it comes to getting work done.
“Can I eat dinner?” I ask. Mama stops what she's doing, puts her hands on her hips and gives me a look that says, “I know you didn't ask me that silly-ass question.”
“Pick up the plates and take them to the shrine.” I follow Mama into her room and put the plates down on the floor beside Mama's bed. She's decorated the shrine lavishly in hues of orange, yellow, and gold for our deity, Oshune. There are also two mini shrines on the floor: one is all white and the other is decorated with red and black cloth.
“Mama, who are these for?” I ask, placing a plate of food on each shrine, as her finger directs exactly what goes where.
“You tell me,” she says, giving me an impromptu quiz. She never quits. “When we feed the ancestors, what colors do we use?”
“White and silver,” I say. That was easy, and one of the first lessons I learned when I started studying with Mama.
“Very good,” she says as I walk around her bed and stand next to mine, watching as Mama lights the yellow and white candles on the shrine. She takes a red candle out and puts it next to the red and black shrine on the floor. I notice there is also a stone figure with three cowry shells inside it, sitting on a clay plate and decorated with candy and toys.
“Mama, that is new. Who's it for?” I ask, ready to go back into the kitchen and fix my own plate. But the shrine looks beautiful and she's done a lot of work to it over the weekend. I know it has something to do with Esmeralda.
“That's Legba, my father Orisha,” she says, smiling as she bends down to put the tall seven-day candle on the floor next to the clay plate. “He opens the roads, moves obstacles, and much, much more.” Now I see the connection: she wants to get Esmeralda out of the neighborhood for good. I knew Mama would handle it like only she can.
“That's what I'm talking about, Mama. Can he help a sistah out? I've got some roads and obstacles to deal with myself.”
“Of course he can, baby. You've got to be ready for the sacrifice, though. There is no gain without giving. Netta and I have been working all weekend to get rid of the negative energy around this house,” she says, glancing in the direction of Esmeralda's house. “I'm begging for that woman to be forced out of here, one way or another.”
“I will help in any way that I can,” I say, following Mama back into the kitchen to eat our dinner, I hope.
“You can help by studying your lessons and keeping out of Esmeralda's sight—literally. Help yourself to the food, Jayd. The rest of this feast is ours.”
I'm happy to study my lessons tonight. My plan is to camp out in the spirit room for the rest of the evening. I'm determined to help Rah get out of his relationship with Trish and keep his head on his shoulders. I don't know anything about her brother, but if he's anything like her, I don't like him already. I also want to see if there's anything I can do to help Misty out. She's far from my favorite person. But if her family's involved with Esmeralda in any way, Misty needs my help, whether she knows it or not.
The usual suspects are hanging at the bus stop this morning, leaving no space for me to rest my weary bones. I stayed up until midnight working on my schoolwork and searching through the spirit book for some guidance. I finished my homework, but I need to keep looking for something to help Misty and Rah out of their self-made hells. Speak of the devil, Misty's taking my bus this morning. Usually she catches the bus off of Central rather than walk up to Wilmington like I do. It's a longer stroll, but it's more peaceful and I can avoid sitting with Misty for at least one of the three rides.
 
“Good morning,” I say as she stands next to me. There are several people around and I know her well enough to know she doesn't like to be alone in a crowd.
“Why are you talking to me?” Misty says. And, I have to agree. Why am I talking to her?
“I heard about your grandmother and I wanted to offer my condolences for you and your mother.” That's enough talking for now, and she can stand alone for all I care. Before I walk over to the other side of the stop, I notice Misty's eyes look sunken, like she hasn't slept or eaten in days. I wonder how she's really doing and how much longer she and her mom will be able to stay in their house. With her grandmother's passing, they have no legal rights to the house and will be out on the streets soon. I know her mom doesn't make much as a part-time secretary at our school, so she won't be able to pay the rent alone. And Misty getting a job is out of the question because she doesn't like manual labor, as she calls it.

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