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Authors: L. Divine

BOOK: Second Chance
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“It's going to take more than good favor for me to get out of this one, though. My lawyers need to be on top of it. South Bay High would love to make an example out of one of the Weiner boys.”
“The Weiner boys? There must be more to this story than you're telling me,” I say, wanting to hear about his own legacy.
“Jayd, where the hell is my water?” Mama yells from her room. Damn, I forgot all about her herbs.
“Who was that?” Jeremy asks, responding to Mama's call.
“My mama. I'm sorry, baby, but I've got to go. I was in the middle of doing something for her when I called to check on you. I'll have to talk to you at school tomorrow.”
“I won't be at school tomorrow. I've been suspended for two days. And, they're only allowing me to come to school on Friday because of the hearing,” he says, sounding a little more concerned than a moment ago.
“I'll keep you in my prayers, Jeremy.”
“I don't believe in all that stuff, remember?” Jeremy asks.
“Yes, baby. But, lucky for you, I do. So, I'll put in a good word for you that all goes well on Friday. It'll take a miracle to explain why your ass had weed on you at school.”
“Well then, I'm ordering a miracle, Queen Jayd. Pray for that,” he says, teasing me in that sexy little way of his.
“One miracle, coming right up,” I say. What he doesn't know is that I'm serious. I passed a pop quiz on my spiritual work this morning, and Mama was so proud of me she's letting me look through her big book of secret recipes as a reward. It's got all of her good stuff in there: him-never-leave-me potion, good-luck serum, enemy-beware spray. You name it, she's got it. It's like looking at a big cookbook for manipulating the real world with some spiritual help. And, I intend to cook up a batch of get-out-of-j ail-free cakes for Jeremy tonight. I walk back into Mama's room and finally deliver her herbs.
“Jayd, what took you so long?” she asks, after swallowing the cold concoction down in three swift gulps.
“Slow down. You gone choke if you don't watch out,” I say, taking the glass from her and setting it on the nightstand.
“Whatever you're planning to do,” Mama says, pulling back the covers on her bed and slipping her feet in between the sheets, “keep track of what you do, who you do it for, and of the outcome,” she says as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before lying down for a well-deserved rest. “That's the first rule of prescribing.”
“What are you talking about?” I say, trying to throw her off my trail. She always knows when I'm up to something.
“I know that look, child. You're up to something, and I know it's got something to do with that boy,” she says, obviously referring to Jeremy. If it were KJ, she would have called him by his name.
“Don't worry, Mama. I've got it all under control.” I pick up the empty glass and my backpack and head to the kitchen. I've got a lot of work to do before tomorrow comes. I've never made anything out of her secret recipe book. But, I'm sure I'll have to go to her spirit room to do it right.
“Jayd, where you going?” Jay asks, coming into the kitchen from the living room. He sees me walking outside with my bag and assumes I'm sneaking out.
“I'm going out back. I've got some work to do,” I answer as I step over Lexi, asleep on the porch.
“Does Mama know what you're up to?” Jay asks, looking for an opportunity to get me in trouble. Sometimes he acts like he's ten years old.
“Yes, she does,” I say, slamming the back door in his nosey face. I'm so sick of people all up in my business. I'm glad for the opportunity to escape the real world for a little while. Maybe this is one of the main reasons Mama enjoys her spirit work so much—it's a sort of retreat from the daily hustle. As I walk past the garage, I look up and notice the sun has just set and the sky is red-orange. I can also smell the night-blooming jasmines permeating the evening air.
When I reach the backhouse, I see Mama has left the door open from earlier. There are all kinds of herbs hanging from the ceiling to dry. The smell of fresh lavender and orange peels overwhelms me as I place my backpack and the recipe book on the oversized wooden table in the center of the room. I turn on the lamp sitting on the opposite end of the table. A mixture of dust and powdered sugar flies off the stool as I sit down and get to work.
“Hey, girl,” I say as Lexi enters the room to witness my first attempt at being a true Williams woman. My mom used to tell me stories of how she and her best friend, my aunt Vivica, would come back here and make a mess. But, she also said most of the time her messes worked, as long as she followed the instructions verbatim. So, I'm willing to give it a try, for Jeremy's sake. It would just suck if he went to jail or got expelled right as we're starting to get to know each other. No, I'm not having that.
As I flip through the cookbook, which has all kinds of stories about our lineage as well as prescriptions for spiritual, mental, physical, and social ailments, I turn to the page entitled
Sweet Treats
.
“Get-out-of-jail-free cupcakes. This is exactly what I'm looking for. How hard can it be to make cupcakes, right, Lexi?” I say as Lexi finds a comfy spot on the floor and plops down, ready for whatever I conjure up.
I love being in here. It's like a cozy little kitchen for one. There's barely enough room in here for the antique, wood-burning stove, sink, and ice box, let alone the table, stool, and small bookcase in the corner. The last of the evening sun reflects red and orange hues through the stained-glass window over the sink.
I wash my hands and grab the flour, sugar, blueberries, lemons, and other ingredients from the cupboards over the stove. Gently moving everything off the table but the recipe book, I start looking for the necessary tools for my work: three bowls, two spoons, a knife, a sifter, a whisk to cream the eggs and sugar, five yellow candles, Puerto Rican rum, and some Red Hots candies, for the finishing touches.
“Mama needs more space in here, huh, girl,” I say as Lexi watches me from her post. I place the ingredients on the table and start measuring and pouring them into the large wooden bowl. “I don't know how good these are going to taste, but we're going to work it out, girl, and quickly. I got a ton of homework to do,” I say as I mix all the ingredients, except for the Red Hots, with the wooden spoon.
As I reach into the ice box to get the butter, I notice a little pouch with the words “him-never-leave-me potion” on it. I open the pouch and pour some of the fine gold powder into the palm of my hand. Oh, I'm going to put a little of this in the batter too, just in case Jeremy gets to thinking he's gone leave me after I help his ass get out of this mess. Also, it can't hurt to have some backup, right? Him never leaving me is the same as him not leaving South Bay High, as far as I'm concerned. A girl needs some insurance, especially after the KJ mess.
It doesn't smell so bad. So far, the batter looks and tastes like regular lemon blueberry cupcakes. But, once I put this gold powder in there, I don't know what's going to happen. I take a little powder with my finger and dab it onto my tongue.
“Tastes like honey and something else I can't quite make out. It shouldn't be so bad, should it, girl?” If Lexi could talk, I think she'd be in total disagreement, because her face is scrunched up and I swear she rolled her eyes at me. “Oh, what do you know? You're just a dog,” I say, knowing she's more than a dog; Lexi's Mama's personal gatekeeper.
I take the thick, golden powder and sprinkle a little into the batter. “There, it's done. Now, let's bake these babies and see what we've got to work with,” I say, pouring the batter into the cupcake pan.
“Perfect. A dozen him-never-leave-'cause-he-gone-get-out-of-jail-for-free cupcakes, coming right up,” I exclaim, proud of my creation.
Becoming completely engrossed in the stories in Mama's cookbook, I don't realize twenty minutes have passed. I open the oven to place three Red Hots on top of each cupcake before they finish baking. The cupcakes appear to be rising to perfection and smell even better. But, as soon as I place the first candy on one of my creations, it falls flat.
“Damn it,” I shout, waking Lexi from her comfortable slumber. I knew something was gone happen. I shouldn't have tampered with the recipe.
I put the rest of the candy on the cupcakes and watch all twelve of them fall, one by one. “Well, I'm sure they're still edible, just not pretty,” I say, convincing myself I did the right thing. I close the oven and clean up my mess, all the while looking through the recipe book to see if there's anything else that needs to be done.
“Make sure you witness the object of your intentions enjoy these treats.” Now, how the hell am I going to do that when I won't see Jeremy until he comes to school on Friday for his hearing? I was going to ask him to meet me at the bus stop after school so I can give these to him. But, I don't want him to look at me crazy if I ask him to eat them right there on the spot.
The timer goes off, and I reach for the oven door. Because they're for a specific purpose, I can't taste them to see how they came out.
“I'll just have to trust that Jeremy likes them, no matter how they look,” I say to Lexi, who's completely disinterested by now. I set the dilapidated cupcakes on the table to cool and grab my backpack to take out my homework. I figure I can get in a couple of hours of homework and still make it to bed by eleven. It's been a long day and I'm tired. Mama didn't cook this evening, and I'm too tired to even cut up potatoes to make myself some fries. A bowl of Cornflakes will have to do for dinner tonight. I hope these cupcakes do the trick. I'll just have to wait until tomorrow to find out.
7
From Broad to Snitch
“A bitch is a bitch.”
—N.W.A.
 
 
R
iding the bus this morning will be especially eventful with my little basket full of cupcakes. It's never easy carrying anything extra on the bus. The drivers can be cool when they want to be and allow passengers to carry food, even though it's against the rules.
When I get to the bus stop, Pam, the neighborhood crack head, is sitting at the bus stop talking to herself. Mama feeds her sometimes. But, normally, Pam's too out of it to care if she eats or not. It's not cold, but the morning chill is still in the air, and she's wearing nothing but a tank top, some biker shorts, and flip-flops. Whenever I see Pam, chills come over me like I'm in the presence of a ghost. I wonder where her family is and how anyone ever gets this far out there.
“Good morning, Pam,” I say as I sit down next to her on the tattered bench. We're the only two people out this early in the morning, but she's heavily engaged in conversation with herself. She's mumbling and doesn't respond to my greeting, yet I feel obliged to at least get her to make eye contact. “Pam, how are you this morning?” I ask, only to be ignored again. Mama says I should always speak to Pam just to let her know I see her, unlike the other folks around our neighborhood who pretend she doesn't exist.
As the bus pulls up to the curb, Pam finally speaks. “Jayd, tell your mama I said hi,” she says as I rise from the bench and head toward the opened double doors of the MTA bus.
“I will, Pam. I'll see you later.” Before I finish my statement, Pam's again engrossed in her side conversation with people only she can see.
“Are you coming or not?” the rude bus driver says, rushing me up the steps and onto the nearly empty bus. “And there had better not be any crumbs on my bus when you leave, either,” she says, referring to my basket of goodies and the sign on the bus indicating no food allowed.
“I'm not gone eat on your bus,” I say, walking to the back of the bus to stretch out before my first transfer in Gardena. Sometimes the three bus rides are a bit much for me. I get tired of the long commute from Compton to the South Bay every morning. I wish I could sleep on at least one of the buses. But, I don't want to risk missing any of my stops.
When my final bus pulls up to the stop near South Bay High, my phone rings, displaying Nellie's name on the Caller ID. What could she possibly want this early in the morning?
“Hello,” I answer as I exit the Torrance bus and head up the steep hill toward campus, trying to balance my backpack, Jeremy's basket, and my cell phone all at once.
“Hey, girl. Are you here yet?” she asks. It must be nice to have a mom and dad to take her to school every morning and who'll pick her up if need be.
“Almost. I'm actually walking up the hill as we speak.”As usual, the local residents are outside walking their dogs, watering their lawns, and sending their children off to school, all the while watching me from the corner of their eyes, making sure I don't steal their lawn ornaments or whatever other possession they may think invaluable.
“Well, hurry up and get here. We've got news, girl.” What now? I can't even have a nice walk in the morning without some drama jumping off.
“Why you can't just tell me over the phone? I need to return a book to the library before I go to my locker this morning, so I'm not going to have time to talk before first period.” I couldn't help checking out one of my favorite books,
Mama Day
, for what must be the fifteenth time while in the library last week. I love Gloria Naylor's writing.
“Because, I want to see your face when you hear what I have to say.” This can't be good if Nellie can't tell me over the phone.
“Just spill it, Nellie,” I say, halfway up the hill. By the time I get to campus and go to the library, I'll have just enough time to get to Spanish class before the bell rings.
“Girl, rumor has it Misty's the one who ratted out Jeremy's little side occupation. Ain't that some shit,” she says as I stop in the middle of my stride to catch my breath. What the hell?
“Are you serious, Nellie? Where'd you hear that from?” I ask, resuming my hike at a much quicker pace than before. Why does that broad always have to be in the middle of some shit?
“Well, apparently Shae overheard Misty telling her mom all about it in the office yesterday. You know Misty's friends with Stan and Dan,” Nellie responds. How can a student be friends with campus security?
“So, what are you gone do,” Mickey says, shouting through the phone. Nellie must have her cell on speaker because I can hear other students all around them. “See, you should've whipped her ass when you had the chance,” she says, reminding me of last week's fight. “Trecee didn't finish the job, and I think you should.”
“Fighting is definitely not the answer. But, I agree with Mickey,” Nellie says, reclaiming control of the conversation. “Something needs to be done about that girl.”
“I agree with both of you,” I say, feeling my heart beat faster as I step onto campus, heading straight for the library. This broad's gone too far now. Snitches are not respected in our hood, at all. And, there's usually only one way to deal with a snitch. But, I don't want to get too ghetto out here with these White folks. Misty isn't worth my education or my freedom. If I fight Misty now, it'll be a straight beat down from the girl formerly known on the street as Lyttle, and that's dangerous territory.
“Excuse me, there's no cell phones in the library,” says one of the librarians from behind the counter. She's so old she looks like she's been here since the library was first built.
“I'll have to talk to y'all later. Meet me at my locker at break. Maybe by then I'll have something figured out,” I say, not really wanting to hang up in the middle of the conversation. What the hell am I going to do about Misty? Her being a broad I can handle. But, a snitch? Never.
 
“Hey, Jayd. What's in the basket?” Nellie asks as she and Mickey walk up to my locker. I was unable to concentrate in my first two periods, thinking about how I should respond to this new drama with Misty.
“It's a gift for Jeremy,” I say, making sure the basket is completely covered. I don't want them to see what's inside. I know they would make fun of my messed-up cupcakes. But, as long as they work, I don't care what they look like.
“I thought he was suspended,” Mickey says, trying to snatch the basket.
“He is. But I was hoping to catch up with him after school,” I say, carefully placing the cupcakes back into my locker before walking to class. I also have to figure out a way to get him to eat them in front of me. If I've learned one thing about Mama's recipes, it's to follow them to the letter. “Have y'all seen Misty this morning? I want to have a word with her before I go around accusing her of a crime she may not have committed.”
Nellie and Mickey look at each other in total disbelief.
“Are you kidding, Jayd? After everything this girl's done you're still willing to talk to her?” Mickey asks, looking like she wants to slap some sense into me.
“I just want to hear it from her mouth before I jump to conclusions,” I say, taking my backpack off to get my English and Spanish books out and place them in my locker before retrieving my government and math books and placing them in my backpack.
“You need a talk show with all the discussing you try and do with this girl,” Nellie says, leaning up against the lockers next to mine, getting a bird's-eye view of the busy hall. “Speaking of which, have you told your man about this new discovery?”
“No, I haven't talked to him yet. But, I'm sure he'll call before lunch.”
Or maybe we can just chill or maybe ...
And there's Jeremy, right on cue. I retrieve my cell from my purse, eager to hear his voice while my girls wait patiently to continue our conversation.
“Hey, baby. How's lockdown?” I ask, knowing he's probably having the time of his life.
“Very funny, Lady J. I'm chilling, catching up on repeat episodes of
College Hill
. How's school?” he asks, in the sexiest damn voice to ever come through my cell. And, I love it when he calls me Lady J. It sounds so OG.
“It's school. You ain't missing nothing, except for all the gossip about you being the next Scarface,” I say, only half joking. I don't want to tell him about Misty quite yet, not until I know the truth. The rumors are growing more ridiculous as the day goes by, and it's still early.
“So, what are you doing for lunch? I wish you could come over, but my mom's here and she's pissed at me. Are you going to miss me?” he asks, sounding a little nostalgic.
“Oh, my God, Jeremy. Do you miss me already? It's only been a day,” I say, flattered. Speaking of which, I better go. There's the warning bell. All the other students are already wrapping up their conversations, including my girls.
“Hey, baby, I hate to go, but I'm gone be late if I don't,” I say, not really wanting to end our conversation, but I still need to talk to my girls and get to class on time.
“Cool. Don't say anything witty until I get back,” he says. I laugh, missing him even more.
“I'll try not to.” Before I could recommend meeting up at the bus stop after school, Jeremy suggests another idea.
“Can you meet me at Mrs. Bennett's class after school? She's going to let me pick up my work so I don't fall behind, and I thought I could still give you a ride home, if that's okay with you.” He's so sweet, thinking of me in his time of need. I'm so glad I made these cupcakes for him. I just pray they keep my man out of jail and at South Bay High. And, that he trusts me enough to eat them, no matter how jacked-up they look.
“Only for you,” I say, and I mean it. I hate Mrs. Bennett. She's notorious for being a supporter of anything anti-Black. Because of her reputation, the school made her host the Black History Month celebration last year. It was a success only because she had movies in her room every day during lunch for the entire month. That was her way of celebrating: showing old Black movies, like
Pinky
, all month long.
I had the twisted pleasure of having Mrs. Bennett last semester for English. She teaches tenth and twelfth grade A.P. English, which means I have to have her one more time if she stays here. She was as much a bitch then as she is now, and I don't normally call broads bitches. But, she and Misty are exceptions to the rule.
“Why do we have to meet in her class? I hate that woman. You know that,” I say.
“She says she wants to talk to me about something. I'm sure she just wants me to know she has my back at the hearing,” he says, reminding me of his impending appointment with fate tomorrow.
“What does she have to do with it?”
“She's one of my character witnesses. We'll talk about it later. You'd better go before you're late,” Jeremy says, and he's right. I only have a few minutes left before the final bell rings.
“Jayd,” Mickey says, interrupting my conversation. “We've got to go. See you at lunch?”
“Yeah, I'll see y'all later. We need to finish our conversation. And, Nellie, tell everybody in your class to mind their own damn business,” I say as they walk away. I know all of them South Central folk have class together and they're having a field day with this new bit of drama.
“Jeremy, I'll call you at lunch,” I say as I start speed walking down the main hall.
“All right, I'll talk to you then. Bye, baby.” Ooh, I love it when he calls me baby. I feel like we've been together forever. As I walk down the main hall toward Mrs. Peterson's room, I notice Ms. Toni coming from the main office.
“Hey, Ms. Toni. How are you this morning?” I ask, stopping to give her a big hug. It's always nice to see her.
“Hello, Miss Jayd. You're on your way to government, right?”
“Yes, Ms. Toni. And I know you heard about Jeremy and the whole bust thing, but it's not as bad as it sounds,” I say, trying to diffuse this argument before it begins.
“Oh, no? Is that why you haven't been by my office this week?” She's right. I have been avoiding her. But only because I know she won't approve of my seeing Jeremy, especially not now.
“Jayd, what are you thinking? That boy is trouble waiting to happen. Now, usually I don't speak ill of students. But, Jayd, I've seen this happen to young, Black girls time and time again. These rich White boys are all alike.”
“All alike how?” I ask, waiting to hear her answer.
“They're spoiled, bored risk takers, Jayd. I've seen too many decent girls ruin their reputations over the wrong boys. You're too smart for him, Jayd. And I don't want you to be pulled down with him. And he is going down for this one.”

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