Pushin' (9 page)

 

The rest of the afternoon was pretty uneventful. Because my group already read through our parts for drama, the rest of the students had a free period to study our lines for the final round of auditions. Chance was conveniently missing in action. He can't avoid talking about his trip forever. If I didn't have cheer now, I'd go over to his house and get the full story. I've been rehearsing my dance moves since sixth period and am ready for today's rehearsal.

Stepping into the gym from the weight room where my class is held, I notice Nellie and Misty already dressed out. Please tell me Misty's not joining the tryouts. Oh hell no. We can't be in the same place at the same time for any longer than necessary. As if I didn't already have enough negative energy around, my nemesis has thrown her hat into the ring.

“What's up, Nellie?” I ask, trying to make nice, but I can see from Nellie's hazel glare that she's not done tripping off of Mrs. Carmichael's dinner invitation. If Nellie only knew the whole story maybe she wouldn't be so quick to hate on a sistah. But it's Chance's story to tell, not mine, and why he can't share it with his girlfriend is none of my business, either.

“Is she the only person standing here?” Misty asks, talking out of the side of her neck as usual. Rather than answer the evil wench, I choose to ignore her like Nellie did me, and claim a space on the half-court mark for practice. Before I can pass them both up, Misty sticks her fat foot out, tripping me on purpose.

“Ouch!” I exclaim, falling to the hard floor. “You bitch,” I say, attempting to jump to my feet, but my skinned knee stops me from choking Misty, who's visibly pleased with her work. She's going to pay for this.

“Jayd, are you okay?” Nellie asks, feigning interest. I know she wants to laugh, but wants to keep from getting pimp slapped by me more.

“I'm fine,” I say, glaring at Misty as I limp back toward the girl's locker room where Alicia, Shauna, and the rest of the cheer squad are busy prepping. The entire purpose of trying out is to better my chances at getting into college. Fighting with Misty won't help my ultimate goal. Maybe that's why Misty's really here: to test me. If that's the case, I sure as hell can't let her win.

“Jayd, you're bleeding,” Alicia says, rushing toward me. “How'd you do that?” Alicia helps me to a bench and signals for Shauna to get the first aid kit.

“A big, fat foot came out of nowhere and tripped me, but I'm okay.” I take the Band-Aid and alcohol pad from Shauna and clean myself up, trying to keep a cool head.

“I've noticed you've got some girls jealous of you already,” Shauna says, looking out of the locker room toward Misty and Nellie. “It's all a part of it, Jayd. But don't worry, you'll fix them good at tryouts next week.” Shauna's right. I'll shut them both up once I get the routines down. Until then, I'll just have to deal with the backstabbing heffas and get my job done—skinned knees, bad dreams, and all.

 

After a grueling cheer practice, I made my way to Compton, ready to work and forget about Nellie, Misty, and Laura, but there's no chance of that happening. Wearing my dance shorts inside the beauty shop where Mama and Netta could see the big patch covering my knee was my first mistake. Telling Mama about my day—starting with my crazy dream right down to Misty making me fall—was the second.

Mama used the opportunity to say “I told you so” to her advantage, in more ways than one. She and Netta got to nurse my knee back to near-perfect health, scold me for not wearing my bracelets again, and give me another assignment to be completed immediately. I have to make a potion to protect me against my enemies, which isn't a bad thing. With the girls at South Bay High—also known as Drama High, and for good reason—I need all the help I can get. I also have to pray five times a day and always wear my jade bracelets until further notice. It's been a long day, making me grateful for the setting sun causing orange and red hues to scatter along the yellow wall in the small kitchen. I love being in the backhouse in the evening. Jeremy's not coming over to my mom's place until later tonight, giving me time to take a much-needed nap after I finish my spirit work.

Mama's trust in my driving skills has grown, but she'd still rather walk home from the beauty shop than ride as my regular passenger. She said to meet her here so she can check my work and provide the final blessing, but that was over an hour ago and a sistah's hungry. There's nothing back here to eat so I'll have to raid the house kitchen.

I step over a sleeping Lexi at the threshold and close the door behind me. Walking through the backyard I notice Misty across the way in Esmeralda's kitchen, probably doing something very similar to what I'm doing. It's strange how Misty and I can be so much alike at home but sworn enemies at school.

“Where'd you come from?” Bryan asks as I open the back door, stepping into the kitchen. It looks like he just got home from working at Miracle Market up the street. I'm just in time to mooch some dinner off my favorite uncle.

“I was in the back working on my mind. I need to get focused,” I say, not boring Bryan with details he's not interested in. Mama gave me an early afternoon to get some work done and I appreciate the rare gift. It seems like the next test she and Netta are giving me is a big one. The subject matter is all about self-control and self-preservation, both of which are essential components of true progress of any kind. And I need to sharpen my saw in more ways than one.

“What, you think you're a Jedi warrior or some shit now?” Bryan asks, pretending the spatula is a lifesaver. He's making his specialty: home fries and a turkey burger. Maybe if I ask really sweet he'll hook his favorite niece up with some dinner.

“Yeah, I guess so, and that makes you Yoda, except you're not that wise; just old, short, and shriveled,” I say, snatching the wooden spatula from Bryan and tossing it in the sink. Even he has to laugh at that one. I miss being in the kitchen with my favorite uncle. I even miss my cousin, Jay, who's busy bringing in the rest of the groceries. Daddy must've had a busy morning to do the grocery shopping in the afternoon. He's usually up and out right after I leave for school, knocking out his main daily chore before he's gone for the day. What a preacher does at church every day, all day, is still a mystery to me, but that's my grandfather's life and his business.

“Can I be Darth Vader?” Jay asks, coming in all late on the conversation and placing the plastic bags on the kitchen table. We all used to have a ball role-playing back in the day. I wish life were still that simple.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Bryan says, reclaiming the spatula and smacking Jay on the head. Jay picks up a kitchen towel and returns the hit while I look through the bags for something to snack on. There's got to be some Ritz crackers in here or something.

“Hey, Tweet,” Daddy says, bringing in the last of the groceries before heading back to church. I take the two bags from my grandfather and place them with the others.

“Hey, Daddy,” I say, kissing him on the cheek and continuing my hunt. He looks at me feverishly searching through the bags and laughs. I don't see what's funny. I'm serious about my hunger.

“Here's some gas money or you can use it for food, little birdie,” he says, kissing the top of my head and passing me twenty dollars.

“Thank you, Daddy. It'll go to good use,” I say, folding the bill and tucking it securely in my jean pocket. That will fill up my tank for the rest of the week. He's such a good grandpa. I just wish he were a better husband to Mama, but that's not my business, either.

“You're welcome, baby. And tell your Mama and Karl I said hi,” Daddy says, stepping out of the back door. “Bryan and Jay, get in here and put up these groceries. Jayd don't live here, but you two do and have to earn your keep, you hear?” Daddy yells at my cousin and uncle, who are now in the living room wrestling. Daddy winks at me before closing the door. We both know that even if I don't sleep here every night, this will always be my home. I turn off the stove, noticing my uncle's fries are done. Even with the kitchen in its naturally disheveled state, I miss cooking with my folks. I take the strainer out of the cluttered dish rack, line it with paper towels and reclaim the spatula for its proper use.

“Give up, boy, before you get hurt,” Bryan says to Jay, pinned on the living room floor. They're like lion cubs in the jungle, I swear. While removing the fried potatoes from the skillet and placing them in the strainer to drain, I can't help but snack on a few. They taste as good as they smell and are perfectly seasoned, as always.

Mama made sure the youngest of us were in the kitchen learning from the boss herself. The eldest of her children don't have the same knack for throwing down on the regular because Mama was too busy in the church and apparently pledging sororities and whatnot when she was younger. I can't wait to grill her about her school days when she finally gets home.

“Thanks,” Bryan says, rescuing his fries before I can eat them all. “By the way, I ran into Rah the other day. He says to tell you hi.” My uncle leans up against the kitchen counter, devouring his dinner and making me jealous.

“Who cares?” I ask, resuming my search for food. I luck up on a box of graham crackers and dig in. These should hold me until dinner.

“I care,” Bryan says, damn near finished already. “It's causing him to be off his basketball game and that means money for the team. This shit has got the boy off his hustle, Jayd, and that's not good for anyone. This is street ball, not school yard playing.”

“You make it sound like it's my fault,” I say, walking in front of him to the refrigerator. I need some milk to make this meal complete, and less unwarranted guilt from my uncle to make it more pleasant.

“He's trying to be a good daddy, Jayd. Cut him some slack and be easy.” I take a cup from the cupboard and pour my milk, ignoring my relentless uncle. Him and Rah go back to when Rah started balling in elementary school, hanging with the big boys from jump. Bryan has always taken a liking to him and therefore always in my ear defending him when he gets the chance. “You're only in high school. Stop taking shit so seriously all the time.” Before I can question his ill logic, there's a knock at the front door. Jay rises from the couch and answers.

“Alaafia. Is Iya Lynn Mae available?” I hear someone ask Jay through the front door in a traditional greeting for people in our religious culture. Mama's clients usually know better than to drop by unannounced. Maybe he's new.

“Jayd,” Jay calls, knowing I'll know what to do. I leave my uncle in the kitchen and walk through the dining room toward the front door. When I reach the screen I see a familiar face staring back at me from the porch: Emilio, with an elder I don't recognize.

“Jayd,” Emilio says, as surprised as I am. I open the wrought-iron screen door and step onto the porch, closing it behind me. How did he know where we live?

“Yes, may I help you?” I ask, thrown off a little by the unexpected visit. I already have enough mixing of school and home drama with Misty occasionally staying next door with her evil godmother, Esmeralda. I don't need this fool hanging around, too.

“I didn't know that you were related to the iyalosha,” Emilio says, referring to Mama by her spiritual title. Indeed, she is a mother with the orisha, but she's also a queen and he probably doesn't recognize her crown because she's African American. Emilio and I have already had it out about blacks in America and our role in the retention of traditional African religion versus South Americans and Cubans, who he is convinced saved our ancestors from extinction while we let them go. My blood boils just thinking about his smug words.

“Lynn Mae is my grandmother and she's also not here. Can I help you with something?” I repeat, anxious to get him off the porch.

“Emilio, is this the same Jayd you attend school with?” the elder asks, looking at me in amazement, apparently seeing the irony in our chance meeting, too.

“Si, Papi. La misma,”
he says. Hell yeah, I'm the same Jayd, and I can see he's been running his mouth about me. But I really can't say shit because Mama and Netta know all about Emilio, too.

“So you're the new princess,” the elder says, bowing his head in respect. Emilio looks on in awe of the man's reverence, but shows me the same respect. I return the greeting, waiting for the reason why they're dropping by unannounced. We just don't do that around here, and when Mama finds out I'm sure she'll put them in check.

“Please forgive my rudeness.
Me llamo
Baba Hector and you already know my godson, Emilio. We are seeking your
abuela
's assistance with a most urgent matter,” Hector says, almost pleading. Just their luck, Mama's walking up the block from Netta's shop now. Good. I want her to meet the infamous Emilio I told her about.

“My grandmother sees people by appointment only, but you can talk to her yourself,” I say, pointing behind them. The elder turns around, relieved at the sight of Mama close to home.

“Jayd, I did not realize that you were related to the Queen Jayd,” Emilio says, almost whispering he's so embarrassed by his ignorance. “This changes everything.” I look at this fool, ready to go off, but Mama's here and I have to keep my composure in front of the elders.

“Greetings,” Mama says, walking up the driveway toward the front porch. Lexi comes across the front lawn to greet Mama and check out the company, just in case her protection is needed. “Can I help you?” Mama steps up the three steps onto the porch with Lexi at her side. The dog looks at our company and is on guard, as she should be and should've been when they first arrived, but Lexi only works for Mama.

“Beni, iyalosha. I sincerely hope so,” Hector says, bowing to Mama's invisible crown. Emilio follows suit and Mama touches both of their shoulders three times, indicating that they may rise. This shit is always so deep to me. It still throws me a little because Mama is my grandmother and I know her to be a great cook and the woman who can beat my ass if necessary. All of the reverence people pay her and me because of the women in our lineage just comes with the territory.