Tyrell (2 page)

On the bus, Jasmine get all sad, and them tears start running down her face again. The bus they got us on is one of them yellow school bus types. It's all old and broke down. There's ‘bout twenty-five people on it, but we ain't all going to the same motel. They gonna make three stops. Two social workers from the EAU is on the bus too. They sitting in the front seat like they always do, talking to each other. They don't never look back. Like they don't even wanna see us or something.

Me and Jasmine is in the back. Last row. I always sit in the back so I can see everyone. All the guys my age is in the back. Most of them is just talking ‘bout girls and cracking jokes and shit. Acting like they ain't going through none of this.

The mothers and young kids is sitting in the middle of the bus making the most noise, ‘specially with all them kids jumping from seat to seat like they playing some game. Troy doing the same thing them other kids is doing, acting like he ain't got no kinda sense. Most of the babies on the bus is crying.
And the women on the bus is just talking and talking ‘bout nothing.

Some woman is telling my moms ‘bout how her landlord threw them out just ‘cause they couldn't pay the rent, and how she went to a fair hearing, but the judge took the landlord side just ‘cause they was both White. Everyone on this bus got some excuse for why they here. None of it is they fault.

Jasmine rest her head on my shoulder like we been friends for years or something and keep crying. My cell ring. I know I seen the number on the caller ID before, but I can't remember who it belong to. The cell keep ringing. I flip it open and answer.

“Ty, it's Dante.” Damn. I can't stand that nigga. “Went to see your pops the other day,” he say, “and he gave me your cell phone number. Man, I couldn't believe it when he told me y'all was back in the shelter. Why y'all ain't call me?”

I wanna say it's ‘cause you say you my pops friend, but the second he out the picture, you try everything you can to get in my moms pants. But I know he just gonna lie and deny everything. Nigga couldn't tell the truth if there was a gun to his head. “We a'ight, Dante,” I say, and can't help but look ‘round this sorry-ass bus we on, on our way to another nasty motel. We been doing this shit for two weeks now, and I gotta admit, the whole thing getting old. But I ain't ‘bout to tell that to Dante. I don't want him thinking we need him or something.

“Well, y'all should of called me before y'all lost the apartment. Me and your pops go way back. Man, I was there when he met your moms.”

“I know, Dante.”

“And you know I could of helped y'all out with money while your pops is away.”

“Yeah, I know, Dante, but—”

“Now your pops told your moms to contact me, but I ain't heard from her.”

I don't say nothing.

“Me and your pops talked for a long time, Ty, and he wants me to do what I can to get y'all out of that shelter, you hear me?”

I hear him talking, but I ain't listening to his words. I'm waiting to find out what he really calling me for. Dante ain't never done nothing ‘less there was something in it for him. Either he trying to get my moms or he trying to get ahold of my pops equipment. We don't got nothing else.

“So, I was thinking. You know, it don't make no sense for all your pops equipment to just sit there when I can be out there making money with it. And of course I'll give y'all a cut of the money so y'all can get out of that shelter and back into an apartment. So, see, we both win.”

I try not to sound mad when I tell him, “I know my pops ain't say you could use his shit.”

“Well, not in them words—”

“Look, Dante, I gotta go, a'ight?”

“But, look, Ty, me and you, we got to get together and talk about this, okay?”

“Bye,” I say, and flip the cell closed. I knew that nigga was trying something.

I'm ‘bout to say something to Jasmine to get her to stop crying, but my cell ring again right away. It's Novisha. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she say. Her voice is extra sweet and
soft, the way it always is after I get mad. “I don't like when you're upset with me.”

“I ain't upset with you,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice kinda low so Jasmine won't hear, even though she in her own world right ‘bout now. “I just don't like when you keep stuff from me, ‘specially when you got some nigga stalking you.”

“He's not stalking me, Ty. Anyway, if anything else happens, I'll tell you. I'll even tell the guidance counselor. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Just make sure you keep it real with me. I don't like secrets. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know. Where are you?”

“On the bus. They taking us to some shelter in Hunts Point.”

“Hunts Point? God, that's got to be bad.”

“It ain't gonna be good. Look, Novisha, I gotta go. My prepaid is ‘bout to run out.” It's a lie, but I ain't in the mood to talk ‘bout nothing right now. I just want time to think.

Novisha start talking fast now. “Okay, I'll let you go, but I just wanted to remind you about my awards ceremony. It's at my school tomorrow at two. You're still gonna come, right?”

I forgot all ‘bout that shit. “Yeah. I'm coming.”

“Good. It wouldn't be any fun without you. Oh, and my father gave me fifty dollars before he left—guilt money—so I'm gonna buy you another prepaid card. I wanna make sure I can always talk to my man, no matter where they send you.”

“Nah, Novisha, you don't gotta do that. That's your money.”

She sigh. “Why don't you ever let people do nice things for you? I love you.”

Damn. That make me feel so good, I can't even explain it. “A'ight. But only a twenty-five-dollar card. Take the rest of that
money and buy yourself something nice, a'ight? Don't worry ‘bout me. I can handle myself. You know that.”

“I know, baby,” she whisper. “See you tomorrow.”

I close the phone. Jasmine is still crying, and she ain't even trying to hide it no more. The girl is a mess. I don't know why, but I put my arm ‘round her. “It ain't gonna be so bad,” I tell her. “It's only a couple days.”

She look all worried and shit. I don't even think she hear a word I say. After a while she ask me, “Who's Novisha? Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” I say. “She my girl.” I think of Novisha cute little face and I wanna smile, but I hold it in. I don't want Jasmine thinking I'm in love or something.

“I should of figured you had a girlfriend. All the good ones do.”

I smile. “Who said I'm good?”

“I can tell,” she say. “You a good guy.”

She get all comfortable on my shoulder and, by the time the bus make the first stop at a motel near the Reservoir, she ‘sleep. Just like that. If I move my arm, she gonna wake up, so I just stay still.

While one of the social workers read off the names of the families going to this motel, I look out the window at the scene going on ‘cross the street from the motel. In front of a liquor store, two drunk Mexicans is screaming at each other, and all they friends is trying to keep them from fighting. The guy from the store is screaming too, but he got a shovel in his hand and he swinging it ‘round, trying to get them to move from his store. People is walking up and down the street like nothing is going on. Like it's just another night in the Bronx.

I shake my head and close my eyes for a second. Then I try to figure out what Jasmine meant when she said I was a good guy. She just met me. How she know what kinda guy I am? I hope she don't think I'm all soft and shit, ‘cause that would just make me mad. I don't want people looking at me and thinking that. Not now. Not when I got so much pressure on me.

I shoulda knew they was gonna send us to the Bennett Motel. Some niggas I was talking to last week told me ‘bout this place. They had me rolling, talking ‘bout how Bennett got rats the size of cats and shit. One dude said his room had bullet holes in the walls and bloodstains on the rug. This other guy said the roaches was getting paid to run Bennett, that the roaches signed you in and took you to your room, and that Bennett even hired roaches that would come to your room to kill other roaches. Man, that shit was funny.

But there ain't nothing funny no more. The place look like a bombed-out building from the outside, like something you see in them war movies. Inside it ain't no better. The place stink like old sneakers, probably ‘cause there ain't no fresh air in here. That's the first thing I notice.

The next thing I notice is how busted the lobby look with all these old chairs and couches that got holes with stuffing hanging out of them. The floors is dirty and look like they ain't never been
mopped. In one corner of the room they got Burger King bags, food wrappers, and soda cans and shit all over the floor. Then they got these plastic flowers on all the tables like that gonna make the place look nice, like that gonna make us feel right at home here. Assholes.

The women line up at the front desk to sign they family in. Jasmine don't say nothing ‘cause she probably in as much shock as the rest of us. Even them guys from the bus ain't making no jokes now. ‘Bout ten minutes later Reyna come over and tell Jasmine they going to room 207. “C'mon,” Jasmine say.

Jasmine give me a little wave and whisper, “Come over later.”

I don't say nothing. I just watch her walk away. Damn. Her ass could make a brotha forget his problems for a little while, but I gotta stay focused. Keep my shit together.

The second we get in our room, my moms shake her head. “Ty, can you believe this shit? Why they got us here? I got a seven-year-old
child
!”

I don't say nothing. This whole situation got me so mad I know I gotta keep my mouth closed. I need to keep all this shit inside and wait ‘til it all settle back down again.

“How they gonna do us like this?” she ask. “They gonna have
children
sleeping here for three nights? I don't get this.”

My moms go on and on, and I just stop listening. I'm tired of the way she act, like everyone s'posed to do everything for her all the time. Even if she don't do nothing. Even when my pops was home, she never did nothing for herself. She just sat ‘round expecting him to do everything for her and buy her things. No matter how he got them.

Troy start crying and my moms don't do nothing to help
him, so I go through the garbage bag and find some sweatpants for him to sleep in. Then I tell him to go to the bathroom and get ready for bed. Five seconds later he call me ‘cause there's a roach in the sink. I take off my beat up old jacket, then go in there and kill the roach with some toilet paper. While I'm in there, I kill two more I see on the wall. Then when I come out, my moms is on my cell talking to one of her friends.

“That's my phone,” I say, and try to snatch it from her.

She push me away. “Get out my face, Ty.”

“You using all my minutes. Damn.” I sit down on one of the beds, mad. How she gonna go through my jacket and take my shit without asking? I hate that.

Troy come out the bathroom. “Go to bed,” I tell him. I don't want him staying up and seeing how jacked up this room really is.

“I wanna watch TV,” he say.

“Just go to bed. You can watch TV tomorrow.”

He so tired he don't even fight me. He just lay down on the other bed and pull the blanket over him, which is good ‘cause a big roach is crawling on the wall right by his bed. I don't kill it ‘cause I know it ain't gonna matter. This motel got more problems than just some roaches.

Our room ain't got no bullet holes or blood or nothing like that, but the paint is all dirty and peeling and the rug is all worn out and shit. They got two double beds in this room with blankets but no sheets, and the mattresses is tore up. Bennett is the worst. So far.

My moms use up the last ten minutes on my prepaid and throw my cell on the bed. Then she just turn on me. “What your lazy ass doing?”

“What that s'posed to mean?” Man, I ain't got time for this.

She fold her arms in front of her. “It mean, what you doing for this family? Why ain't you doing something so your mother and brother don't gotta live like this?”

For a second I try to hold it in ‘cause I want Troy to sleep, but I can't this time. Before I know it, I'm off the bed, screaming back, “What I'm s'posed to do?”

“You never do nothing. Look at you. You don't go to school ‘cause you too damn lazy and ign'ant. And when you do get your Black ass to school, all you do is fight and get in trouble, and I gotta go down there every other day to talk to that goddamn vice principal.”

“What else you got to do? Don't talk about lazy. What
you
doing for this family?”

She don't hear me. She just keep on going. “You don't go to school and you don't even work. You damn near sixteen. What kinda man you gonna be? Some lazy-ass nigga?”

I get right in her face now. “What you want? You want me to go out there and sell weed? That what you want?”

She don't back down none. “We wouldn't be at Bennett if you
was
out there, would we?”

Troy start crying again, and my moms move away from me. She start walking ‘round the room like she some kinda animal trying to get outta her cage. “Tyrell, you gotta do something. This shit is serious now.” She ain't screaming no more, but she look real mad and real scared. “You spend all your time walking around the streets and screwing that little girl, but that don't make you a man, you understand what I'm saying? A man gotta take care of his family.”

“Well, what your man doing for his family? You want me to take care of you ‘cause your man can't keep his ass outta Rikers. Well, that ain't my problem. That's your problem.”

I grab my cell and my jacket, open the door, and I'm gone. I get in the hall and just wanna punch or kick something. I make a fist and rub it into my other hand, but I really wanna put my fist through the wall. I can't calm myself down. I can feel the blood pounding in my brain. I gotta do something. I wanna go somewhere, but I don't got nowhere to go.