Money Hungry (9 page)

As soon as I get home, things start falling apart. Momma is standing at the doorway of our building. She’s wearing open-toed bedroom slippers.

“Raspberry!” Momma yells, her fist balled up and her thumb pointing toward the door. “Get in this house right now!”

I move past Momma real slow. She don’t take her eyes off me for a minute. And I can tell by the way she’s looking at me that I got a real hollering coming my way.

When Momma comes inside behind me, she’s madder than before.

Momma’s hollering, “I work two jobs to keep us from living in the street. And you go and steal money. Why?”

I try to tell Momma I don’t know what she’s talking about. But she’s gone crazy. Walking from room to room yelling at me. Next thing I know, she’s in my bedroom, pulling out my money drawers. Emptying my cans of stashed bills from the hole in the wall. Dumping cash all over the place.

“I ain’t—didn’t—raise no thief.”

I’m walking behind Momma. Picking up tens and twenties. Shoving quarters into my pockets. Momma turns around and sees what I’m doing. She grabs my hand, and pulls open my fingers to get the money. “You’re
hurting
me,” I yell.

But Momma keeps pulling back my fingers. “This is gonna stop here and now,” she says, taking the money, and throwing it across the room. “I shoulda made you stop all this money nonsense long before, when I seen how crazy it was making you.”

She puts the can down, and goes over to the window. The wind blows the curtains back against the wall.

“Who said I was a thief? Who said I took their stuff?” I say, taking hold of the can.

“Who said I was a thief? Who said I took their money?” I ask Momma again and again.

Momma tells me that it was Ja’nae’s grandfather who said I was a thief. He told Momma that every now and then he sneaks a peek at Ja’nae’s diary to see what she’s up to. This morning he read something in it about me stealing two hundred dollars of his money.

I’m shaking my head saying that he don’t know what he’s talking about. I tell Momma that it was Ja’nae who took the money, not me.

Momma looks at me real disappointed like. She turns around and drops a handful of money out the window. I lose it, then. I push her out of my way. I scratch my hand, trying to get at my money. “Momma nooo!” I yell, looking at my money fall to the ground.

Momma is stronger than I am. She takes one hand, pushes me hard, and I end up falling on my butt, and hitting my back against the table. “I guess you gonna stand here and deny taking that fifty dollars from Ja’nae, too,” she says, talking about the money I took off Ja’nae’s kitchen table.

At first I tell Momma I didn’t take it.

Then I come clean and say I did but I returned it right away.

She shakes her head and sits for a minute on the windowsill. “I would rather throw it all away, than for you to think it’s okay to steal.”

There are tears running down Momma’s face. She lets loose another fistful of money. “I got a letter from a lawyer today saying that them folks in Pecan Landings don’t want us living over there. They think we trash, and you,” she says, getting louder, “with all your money-hungry ways, you just prove them right.”

Now I see what this is all about. “That money’s mine,” I say, getting up in Momma’s face. I put my hand over hers to make her stop. But even with my hands trying to squeeze hers shut, her fingers uncurl, and my money is gone.

I hear Shoe and other people outside going nuts. “I got me a twenty,” he’s saying.

“Lord, here come another ten,” somebody else says.

I try to tell Momma that this is all a big mistake. She’s so angry about losing the house, she ain’t listening to me. She throws the empty can on my bed, and starts grabbing handfuls of loose change from my top dresser drawer. Next thing I know, I hear it bouncing off the pavement. Flying off cars.

For a minute, I don’t try to stop Momma anymore. I think that maybe if I act like it don’t matter, she will quit. But it’s hard for me to act like I don’t care.

Momma empties two whole cans of money before she stops. I figure she just gave away two hundred dollars of my cash.

“Check and anybody else out there better give me back my stuff,” I yell out the window.

Momma pulls me back inside by my shirt. “I will throw it all out . . . every last penny . . . if you don’t get yourself together,” she says. She opens her mouth wide to say something else, but closes it when the phone rings. I look at her, and go to answer it.

“The machine will pick it up,” she says, holding me back with her arm like a crossing guard does at the light.

I walk over to the window. People are still waiting for more of my money to fall. Check’s got a stick, digging around in the dirt, looking for my stuff.

Momma’s got another fistful of my dollars in her hand. She’s heading for the window. When I try to trip her, I smack the money out her hand at the same time. She gives me a look that lets me know that she will knock me out, if I keep doing what I’m doing. So I stop, and pray to God that she will cut it out.

When the answering machine picks up, we hear Ja’nae’s grandfather’s voice. He’s apologizing to Momma and me. Saying he talked to Ja’nae about her diary, and she said he misunderstood what she wrote. “It was Ja’nae that took the money out my drawer,” he says, sounding embarrassed. “She’s the thief, not your girl.”

Momma takes a big breath and sits down on my bed.

“I was so upset at not getting the house . . . then Ja’nae’s grandfather called about you stealing money. I lost my head, I guess,” she says. . . .

She’s shaking her head from side to side, saying she’s sorry for throwing my money away. She starts talking to me in words soft and sweet as pudding. I bust out crying when Momma holds me tight. She reminds me again and again that things have a way of turning out, and I know she’s right. But deep down inside, I’m still scared. ’Cause without money, you ain’t nothing. And people can do anything they want to you.

No sooner than I start cleaning up what’s left of my money, Dr. Mitchell comes over. He looks nervous leaving his car on the street with everybody standing around like they’re waiting for something more to happen. And before he’s inside our place, two kids is sitting on the hood of his ride.

Soon as Momma sees Dr. Mitchell, tears come. She tells him about being turned away from Pecan Landings, and about throwing my money around.

Dr. Mitchell’s got his arms around Momma. He’s standing in the middle of the room holding her tight, telling her everything will be all right. Momma’s crying real hard, and she can’t stop. I know it sounds weird, but I feel better, safer with Dr. Mitchell around.

Dr. Mitchell asks me for towels. He wants Momma to lay in her bed and cool down before she makes herself really sick. I’m watching him take care of her. Putting towels in cool water and pressing them on her forehead. Putting on nice music and shutting her bedroom door so she can rest. For once, I’m jealous of Zora.

When Dr. Mitchell offers to help me straighten up the place, I turn him down. But he acts like I ain’t said a word. He grabs a broom and starts sweeping up. Then starts talking about how someday things will be better for Momma and me.

“They’re just a bunch of triflin’ snobs down in Pecan Landings,” I snap.

Dr. Mitchell shakes his head and walks over to the window. He plays with the change in his pocket. Taps on the window and tells people to get off his ride. “When things settle down, I’ll take your mother to City Hall. We’ll talk to people there. File a complaint, if she wants,” he says.

Then Dr. Mitchell opens the window, and says, “Now don’t let me have to come down there. I said get off my
car
.”

I’m tired of not having ever spoken to Dr. Mitchell about his thing with Momma. So, I ask him straight up, “Are you in love with my mom or what?”

I don’t cut him no slack. I don’t try to help him out by making small talk or changing the subject. I need to know. And he’s gonna tell me.

Dr. Mitchell jerks up his pants legs when he goes to sit down. Then he scratches his head, and clears his throat. “I like your mom, Raspberry.” That’s all he says.

“But you dating her, right?” I ask.

“I like your mother a whole lot. She likes me. But she won’t make a solid commitment to me,” he says, turning toward me. “Says she’s too busy trying to make something out of herself to get fully involved with me.”

I’m thinking Momma must be nuts. Turning down a doctor. A smart nice guy with big cash. And her living in the projects, and holding down two jobs.

“So why you all up under her?” I ask.

“Company,” he says. “Friendship. Good conversation, I guess.” He talks more than he ever did to me. Telling me about Momma. How smart and strong she is. How determined she is to do something good with her life.

“We have the same values, you know,” he says, standing up and getting busy again. “We love our families, work hard, and try to do what’s right.” His beeper goes off, and he pulls it out of his pocket to check the phone number. “Zora,” he says. “I need to give her a call.”

While he’s in the kitchen on the phone, I get on my hands and knees to pick up more of my money. All I find is ten dollars in change.

Dr. Mitchell says he’s gotta be heading home soon, but it’s another hour before he goes. He spends some time at Momma’s bedside, wiping her forehead with the washcloth. Finally he says good-bye to me. “Take care of your momma. Tell her I’ll call her soon,” he says.

Momma wakes up as soon as she hears Dr. Mitchell close the front door behind him. In a little while, she’s in the kitchen, pulling out frying pans, and making dinner.

I don’t have no appetite. But I watch her flour up the chicken, melt down the lard, and put the good plates and silverware on the table.

After a while, we’re sitting down. But we’re not eating the food. Not talking. I’m playing with a string unraveling from Momma’s pink tablecloth. Digging in my pocket for the money I made earlier today at Miss Baker’s boardinghouse. Thinking about what the old man said to me. “Money won’t never do you wrong.”

The first person I see when I jump out Momma’s car and walk up the steps to the school is Ja’nae. Me and her already had it out on the telephone about her putting me in her diary. But I believe her when she says her granddad got it all wrong. She’s with Ming. I don’t have time to play around. So I just say what I mean. “Give me what you owe me,” I tell Ja’nae, with my hand out.

“You know Zora ain’t speaking to you,” she says, walking up the steps with Ming’s arm around her shoulder.

“Don’t talk to me about Zora. Just give me my money back,” I say, matching every step she takes.

Ming looks at me and says that I should chill. Ja’nae asks him to go to her locker and get her science book.

I start to explain to Ja’nae that I’m just about broke, but Ja’nae already knows that. Shoe and Check have been telling everybody about how all my money came pouring out the window.

“Ja’nae,” I put my hand out. “Give me back the money I lent you,
now
.”

Ja’nae’s shaking her head. Her long, shiny spiral curls pat the sides of her face every time she moves. She tells me that the person who owes her the money ain’t paid it back yet.

“Give me the money we made at Miss Baker’s—or sell Ming’s jacket. Take the jacket to a pawnshop, or sell it on the corner. Do what you gotta, but get my money. Today,” I yell.

Ming walks back over to us. Sato’s right behind him. Seneca and Kevin are there, too.

I don’t want to embarrass Ja’nae and Ming, but I gotta have that money. I can’t be walking around broke. So I forget about him and her, and just let him know that I know Ja’nae got him that jacket with money that wasn’t hers, and that I want my money back.
Now
.

“You are so lame,” Sato says, walking up to me. “Lame and greedy,” he says, letting loose a smile so sweet I could just die. “Embarrassing Ming in front of the whole school, busting on your friend, all for a few pennies,” he says, shaking his head and walking off.

Don’t nobody care Ja’nae owes me two hundred dollars and don’t wanna pay up? Don’t nobody care that I’m practically broke?

Ming is staring me down. Holding on to Ja’nae’s hand tight, and giving me an evil look. “She didn’t
buy
me the coat.” He’s playing with his baby ring.

“I’ll tell her,” Ja’nae says to him. Then she lowers her voice, and looks me straight in the face. “The coat was Willie’s, my cousin who died last year from an asthma attack.” Ja’nae looks down at the floor. “Ming didn’t want anyone to know,” she says even lower, “’cause my cousin had the jacket on when he died.”

Ming’s looking down at his feet, still holding tight to Ja’nae’s fingers. When he and Ja’nae start to walk off, a white cotton ball falls off her from someplace. She steps on it, and I never do see it again.

“I need my money,” I say, following behind her.

“I need my money.” Kevin’s copying me, getting all up in my business. “Sell some pencils,” he says.

“Or rotten chocolate,” Seneca says, laughing.

I look at Ja’nae. I want to ask her what happened to the money she took from her granddad. But she’s walking off with Ming. Seneca is right with her, looking back at me every once in a while. She’s got a smirk on her face. Kevin’s got his arms around her shoulders.

They all turn the corner at once. I’m watching ’em go. Watching my money go for good too. I’m standing there, trying to figure out what it’s gonna take to get Ja’nae to shake loose my cash, when she comes running back my way. She smells like baby powder and peaches.

“The money,” she says, breathing hard. “The money wasn’t for Ming. It was for my mother.”

I am tired of Ja’nae and her stories. So I ask her again when she’ll be able to pay me. Next thing I know, Ja’nae is digging in her purse. Pulling out dollar bills. Throwing ’em my way.

“You cheap greedy thing,” she says, throwing money at me like it ain’t nothing. “I told you I didn’t have the money. Why couldn’t you just leave me be? Why couldn’t you just trust me?” she says, still digging in her purse.

I don’t wait for kids to do like they did when Momma lost her mind and threw my money out the window. I get down on my hands and knees and stuff the money in my book bag. I stop counting when I get to thirty-five bucks.

“Ja’nae is bugging,” I say to Mai when I see her in the hall later on. I tell Mai about the money Ja’nae threw at me.

Mai is walking down the hall, looking at herself in a hand mirror. “Why don’t you give Ja’nae a break?” she asks. “You are just so greedy.”

I point my finger in Mai’s face and say, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mai takes a deep breath, and shakes her head. “First you take that fifty from Ja’nae. Then you start harassing her about paying you back.”

“What’s mine is mine,” I say, getting loud.

Mai keeps staring at herself in the mirror. Kevin and Seneca walk by. Kevin says to Mai, “Hey, Karate Kid.” Him and Seneca think that’s real funny.

Then here comes Sato. He’s asking if I got a pencil he can buy. While I’m looking in my bag for one, he says he heard that me and Momma gonna be kicked to the curb. Living on the streets again.

I swallow hard. I wanna say that what he heard is just talk. But I ain’t sure. That’s why I gotta get the money Ja’nae owes me. Why I gotta figure out a way to replace what Momma threw out the window.