Tyrell (24 page)

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Authors: Coe Booth

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BOOK: Tyrell
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It sound like she already made up her mind or something. I could try to talk her outta this, but what I'ma say? She gotta look out for herself now.

While I'm locking up the storage room, Jasmine change the subject and talk on and on ‘bout her first day at work and all the mistakes she was making. “I know the lady was getting mad at me because she told me she was only gonna let me help another waitress for a few days, until I learn what I'm doing. Can you believe it, Ty? I'm an
assistant
waitress now. How pathetic is that?” She try to laugh a little.

I smile. “Yeah, that's crazy.”


Ay, dios mio!
” Jasmine say, all of a sudden. “I almost forgot. I promised to help the lady at the church today. Remember where I took you last week? She's cooking for the homeless people again and I'm s'posed to meet her there at seven thirty. You wanna come back to the church? We can go get Troy first.”

“Nah,” I say. Sitting through two hours of Spanish church ain't something a brotha gonna do twice. Even for the food.

Me and Jasmine walk ‘cross the parking lot to the street, and I grab ahold of her hand. I feel real bad for her, having to deal with all this. I mean, I know Emiliano gonna take care of her,
make her go to school and the doctor and dentist and all that, but she gonna hafta give up a lot for that. And it ain't right.

We catch the train, and Jasmine get off at the stop before me ‘cause it's closer to the church. It's only 7:00, but it don't make no sense for her to go back to Bennett then hafta walk all the way back to the church. When I get off the train I stop at a bodega and get me a $25 card for my cell. Then I buy orange juice, some rolls, cheese, and donuts. I want me, my moms, and Troy to eat a good breakfast ‘cause I'm hoping we could go out today and start looking for a apartment. ‘Cause if we don't find nothing, we gonna hafta go to the job-training-program place tomorrow, and yeah, Bennett is bad, but who know how bad that place gonna be? Probably gonna be worse.

I walk out that store with the food and still can't believe I got $2000 in my pocket. It's wild. One night work and I don't gotta worry ‘bout nothing for a while. That ain't bad.

I walk in the lobby of Bennett kinda feeling good, ‘til I see Mr. Mendoza behind the desk. I'm glad Jasmine ain't with me ‘cause I don't want him looking at her the way he do. “Tyrell,” he say as I'm trying to walk past him. “Wait a minute. I got something for you.”

I stop walking. “What?”

He holding out a envelope. “Here. This is really for your mother. The ACS people left it for her.”

“ACS?” I ask him. “Why was they here?”

Mr. Mendoza smile a little. “I called them.”

I go over and snatch the letter out his hand. I try to read it, but it's like some kinda legal shit. Only thing I see that make sense right now is where somebody wrote TROY GREEN on the line that say CHILD'S NAME. Then it go, “The above-named
minor child will be placed in the custody of the New York City Administration for Children's Services pending a family court hearing.”

And I'm standing there like, fuck, I can't believe this shit. Troy gone.

FORTY-ONE

A hour later, I'm in my room sitting on my bed feeling as bad as I'ma get. Sick. My moms fucked up again. She left Troy alone. One of the guards told me that Troy woke up, ain't know where his moms was, so he left the room and came down the hall to Jasmine room to find me. But when nobody was there, the kid just lost it, started crying and shit. Them guards had to come and get him. They waited for my moms to come back, and Troy even remembered my cell number, but course I ain't had no minutes left. Three hours later, when my moms still ain't get back, they ended up calling ACS ‘cause they ain't know what else to do with him.

And I'm like this, what the fuck I do all this work for? It's like the party was a waste of my time or something. I mean, I did everything I could to keep me and Troy outta foster care, and my moms ain't had to do nothing but watch the boy. So, yeah, I got money now, but how that gonna help us? The cash in my pocket ain't gonna do shit for us.

And now, I'm so fucking tired and I can't even sleep ‘cause I'm waiting. Waiting for my moms to come back so she can see what she did, see how she screwed up our whole family. Again.

I open that letter again and read it for like the fifth time. The front just talk ‘bout how the city took custody of Troy because he was being neglected. Then on the back it say my moms gotta go to family court tomorrow morning, probably so they can tell her what she gonna hafta do to get Troy back. Not that she gonna do none of it. She never do. And I hope they don't think they gonna try and put me in no foster care too, ‘cause I'm too old for that now. I can take care of my own self.

Sitting there thinking ‘bout Troy start to get to me. I'm seeing his face in my mind and I just want him back. Here. And, to be honest, I get some tears in my eyes. I mean, Troy was probably scared out his mind when he woke up and nobody was here. Then to have some strangers come in the middle of the night and take him away. That probably scared him even more. Least me and Troy was together the last time ACS removed us. Now he gonna hafta go through this by hisself, and he don't deserve that. Nobody do.

My moms get back ‘round 8:30 and she walk in real quiet like she expect Troy to be still ‘sleep or something. And when she see me, she act all surprised. “You back already? How was the party?”

“You see anybody missing?” I ask her. My voice is flat and cold.

“Where your brother?”

I don't say nothing. I just hand her the letter from ACS. She
open it but don't even hafta read the whole thing ‘cause she been through this before. “Oh, no,” she say. “What happened?”

I feel like I'ma explode. For real. “What you think? You left him here by hisself again. How many fuckin' times I told you not to do that? What the fuck is your problem?”

“Watch your mouth,” she say. “You still a child. Don't think you grown enough to talk to me any way you like.”

I get up off the bed. “Oh, it's like that? I ain't grown enough to curse, but I'm grown enough to work my ass off to support you, right?”

“When they take him?”

“How I'm s'posed to know? What time you left here?”

“Around midnight, but I was trying to get back before he woke up.”

“Where you go?”

She don't say nothing. She just start taking her jacket off like I ain't even ask nothing. But she look mad guilty though, and that look say it all. She was with Dante. All night.

She sit on her bed and read the letter. Meanwhile I dump all the clean clothes outta the garbage bag, shake any roaches out the stuff that's mines, then put it back in the bag. The rest of the clothes stay right there on the bed. Then I go through the room and pack all my shit in that bag. I still got the keys to the storage room, so I don't gotta worry ‘bout that.

“I gotta be at the court by nine thirty tomorrow,” she say, “and I want you to come. You can tell the judge that I left you to babysit Troy, and you was the one that left him alone. Then they can't blame me, and we can get Troy back.”

No matter how many times it happen, she still surprise me sometimes. ‘Cause I can't believe what she saying to me. She
want me to take the blame and cover her ass again. But if I did that, what's gonna happen the next time she fuck up? How I know the next time she do something like this, Troy ain't gonna end up hurt, or kidnapped, or killed? Fact is, she ain't in no condition to take care of a child by herself. She can't do it. Simple as that.

“I ain't going to court,” I tell her.

“What you mean? You want me to walk up in there alone? Don't you care ‘bout getting your brother back?”

“I can't go,” I say. “Monday I got a appointment with a lady at ten.” I pick up my garbage bag and open the door.

“Where you think you going?” she ask me. “And where's the money from the party? Dante landlord said we can have that apartment as long as we give him two months' rent and the security deposit tomorrow morning.”

“Go be with Dante,” I tell her. “I'm out.”

I slam the door behind me when I leave.

FORTY-TWO

I really look homeless walking through the streets carrying the garbage bag with practically everything I own inside. I'm tired and beat down and miserable, but I still get to Iglesia de Dios del Bronx by 9:00, a hour late. I ain't think they gonna let me in that late, but they do, no problem. I sit in the back again with the rest of them homeless people and can't believe it was only last week that I was here before. With Troy.

I close my eyes and sleep, and the pastor gotta wake me up when the service is over. He say some shit to me in Spanish and point to the basement door. I grab my garbage bag and stumble to the door, so tired I can't hardly see straight. I just wanna see Jasmine and talk to her, let her know I'm leaving Bennett now.

Downstairs I find a empty table in the back. Ain't no way I'm sitting with none of them other folks down here. They the nasty kinda homeless, not like my family or Jasmine. ‘Cause we been holding it together. We ain't just give up and stop caring ‘bout how we look or smell. And that's the difference. Some people just don't care no more.

Jasmine is helping the lady serve the folks in line. She smiling when she give people the food, and I don't know how she do it, but she don't even look all that tired. The pastor come up to me and try to get me to line up for some food, but I shake my head. “
No hambre,
” I say. I ain't sure I'm saying it right, but it look like he kinda understand me.

Jasmine don't see me there ‘til after a lot of them folks is gone. She run over to my table. “Ty!” She sit next to me and give me a hug right there. “I thought you weren't gonna come.” She see the garbage bag on the floor next to me. Then she look ‘round the room. “Where's Troy?”

“ACS snatched him up.” Saying them words feel like somebody stabbing me in my chest.

“She left him alone
again
?”

I nod my head.


Ay, dios mio!
” She cover her mouth with her hands. “That poor little baby.” Then she start crying herself.

I put my arms ‘round her and try to tell her everything gonna be alright. The pastor come over again. He starting to get on my nerves, you ask me. Him and Jasmine talk in that Spanish, and I know she telling him what happened to my brother. He pat me on the back and say in a thick accent, “You brother, he okay.”

I try to smile a little.

Then the lady from the restaurant, Jasmine boss, come over to me with a plate. She made all them same things she had last week, and some kinda sandwich too. “Eat,” she say. “Very good.”

I can tell she don't hardly know no English neither. She seem like a real nice lady though, always helping feed people that don't got nothing. “
Gracias,
” I say.

While Jasmine go back to help the lady clean up, I sit there
and try to eat some of the eggs. But it's hard ‘cause I feel sick to my stomach ‘bout Troy. I'm thinking ‘bout everything, like where Troy at right now, what he doing, what he feeling. I hope they find him a good foster home with somebody that's gonna treat him nice, and I hope he ain't gonna hafta go to a different school, not now when they was just ‘bout to put him in some of them regular classes.

But no matter where Troy at, I'ma find him and see him. Ain't nothing or nobody gonna stop me. ‘Cause I know the second he get the chance he gonna call my cell, and when he do I'ma let him know that I still love him. And I'ma tell him that, even if we ain't together everyday, we still brothers, and no ACS is gonna change that.

Jasmine come back over to the table when she through cleaning up. “What's the matter, Papi? You not hungry?”

“Nah,” I say. “What kinda sandwich is that anyway?”

“You never had a Cuban sandwich? It got roasted pork, ham, and cheese, and it's so good. You want me to wrap it up for you to take back?”

“Nah. And I ain't going back there.” I tell Jasmine ‘bout the fight me and my moms had and how she wanted me to take the blame for her in court. “I can't take it no more, Jasmine. My moms need to grow up, and she need to do that by herself.” Then I think of her and Dante, and that make me even sicker. “She gonna hafta work out her own problems while I work out mines.”

“C'mon, Ty. Eat a little bit,” Jasmine say, like she talking to a child or something. “You need to stay healthy.”

“A'ight.” It's nice, her trying to take care of me instead of the other way ‘round. “I'ma eat.”

“Good. I'll be right back. I wanna use the pay phone.” She kiss me on the cheek before she go.

I sit there and take a couple bites outta the sandwich, trying not to think of nothing. Not my moms, not Novisha, not Troy. Not nobody. Then my cell ring.

I flip it open and all I hear is, “I got me a son, yo!” It's Cal. “He just got here, like twenty minutes ago. He twenty minutes old.”

“A son. Congrats, man.”

“Ty, the whole thing, the birth, that shit ain't no joke. I don't know how them girls be doing it. Man, it's crazy.”

I start laughing.

“But you gotta come to the hospital and see him. He all wrinkled and shit. I hope he grow up and look like me though.”

“What you gonna name him?”

“Calvin, man, what you think?”

“Little Cal?” I ask.

“Nah. C. J. Cal Junior. You like that?”

“Yeah, that's cool. You get my message?”

“Yeah, but I ain't worried ‘bout them dudes. Andre and Greg is gonna handle them.” He putting on his act again, like ain't nothing can touch him. “How the party go after I left?” he ask. “You make money?”

“Yeah,” I say. Then I tell him ‘bout everything else that happened at the party and what happened when I got back to Bennett.

“That's fucked up, man,” he say. “But Little Man gonna be a'ight. He a smart kid.”

“Yeah, I know. Look, y'all got a extra bed or something over there?”

“Extra bed? Man, I still got the bunk bed.” Cal start laughing. “Remember from back in the day?”

“Damn, man.” The bunk bed. When I used to spend the night over there, when we was in fourth and fifth grade, me and Cal used to do some stupid shit, like jumping and flipping from the top bunk, trying to be Power Rangers or something. Most of the time we just busted our ass, but we had fun though.

“Why?” Cal ask. “You gonna come stay with us?”

“Yeah,” I say. Jasmine come back over to the table and sit down. “But I ain't sleeping on the top bunk no more, man.” Cal and I both start laughing ‘cause he was forever making me sleep up there. I look at Jasmine, and she got that sad look in her eyes again. “And Cal, I'ma have somebody with me, a'ight?”

Jasmine look up and smile at me.

“Cool,” Cal say. “Greg over there now. I'm gonna call him and let him know you coming.”

“A'ight.”

When I hang up from Cal, Jasmine ask me, “Where are we going?”

“Over to Cal apartment. C'mon.”

Outside on the street, Jasmine tell me she gotta go back to Bennett to get her clothes and schoolbooks. I throw the garbage bag over my back like I'm fuckin' Santa Claus, and me and her hold hands as we walk.

A block later, my cell ring. I let go of Jasmine and reach in my pocket, but when I see who calling, I just put it right back.

“Novisha?” Jasmine ask.

“Yeah. But I'm too tired to deal with her today.” I grab ahold of Jasmine hand again.

“You still love her?”

“Course. I got mad love for her, but I gotta trust the girl I'm with. How I'm s'posed to trust her now?”

“You lucky you got somebody who loves you.”

“I know.”

“And you love her. Why don't you just start again with her? Try again.”

“I wish it was that easy. I mean, my whole life was built ‘round hers. I had everything all figured out, know what I mean? I thought she was—” I'm trying to find the right word to describe what I thought I had with Novisha.

“Perfect?”

Damn.

“Nobody's perfect, Ty. Not even you.”

“A'ight,” I say. “You got it. You right.” But I ain't really think Novisha was perfect. I just thought she was perfect for me.

We cross the street and start walking down Barretto Street. “What you gonna do ‘bout Emiliano?”

“I just called Reyna and told her I'm gonna move back in with him.”

“She gonna let you?”

“I didn't tell her that Emil has feelings for me or nothing like that.”

“What you tell her then?”

“That he still loves her.”

I stop walking ‘cause I wanna say something to her serious. I drop the garbage bag on the sidewalk, then turn to her. “You know, you don't hafta do nothing with him. Not if you don't wanna. Don't let him put no pressure on you.”

“I'm not. Don't worry.”

But I am worried ‘bout her. And I don't even wanna say what I think ‘bout a guy that would put a girl like Jasmine in a position like this. I mean, why she hafta go through all this just to get somebody to take care of her?

“This week was a test for me, Ty,” she say. “Sleeping with you every night and not doing nothing. Now I know I can hold out with a guy ‘til I'm ready. Even with Emiliano.”

“Great,” I say, and start laughing. “You tortured me every night, teasing me and everything, but I'm glad you got something outta it.”

Jasmine laugh and wrap her arms ‘round my waist. “I wasn't teasing you,” she say, giggling in my ear. “I was teaching you how to be patient.”

Man, she so sexy it ain't even real. I kiss her. “Patient for what?”

“For me,” she say. We kiss again, and I wanna keep on kissing, but she stop me before I can hardly get my mouth open. “C'mon.” She grab my hand again. I pick up the garbage bag and let her pull me down the street.

When we get to Hunts Point Avenue, I tell her I'ma wait for her on the corner ‘cause, straight up, I'm through with Bennett. I don't even wanna see that place no more. While I'm standing there, I see some dudes playing basketball at the hoop I brung Troy to the other day and, man, it hurt that Troy ain't with me no more.

But at the same time, I do kinda feel free. I mean, I know I ain't s'posed to feel this way, but it's like what Jasmine was saying before, that her sister deserve her freedom. And I need that too. I
need time where I don't gotta worry ‘bout nobody but myself. I mean, it ain't my job to be no father at fifteen. I ain't Cal.

When Jasmine get back with all her duffel bags and shit, I decide to catch a cab uptown. I got money now. The second we in the cab, I throw my arms ‘round her and start tonguing her. Deep. And she into it too. The cab driver probably watching us in the rearview mirror ‘cause a couple times, the cab swerve and he go, “Sorry.”

After the third time he try to kill us, we stop kissing so he can pay attention to what he doing. Me and Jasmine rest our heads together and both of us practically fall ‘sleep. I'm dead tired. “Do we have to sleep on the top bunk?” Jasmine ask, half ‘sleep.

“Yeah.”

“Does Cal have to be there?”

“He ain't there now. Only his brother, but he gonna be in the living room playing video games. That's all he ever do. You wanna sleep right now?”

“Okay,” she say. “Then when we get up, I wanna go out somewhere and have fun. This is gonna be my last night of freedom.”

This gonna be my first night of freedom, far as I'm concerned. “I'ma take you wherever you wanna go. Your decision.”

Jasmine smile.

“And don't think that after you move in with that guy, that me and you ain't gonna see each other no more,” I tell her. “We gonna always be friends, no matter what. I ain't ‘bout to let no Emiliano keep you away from me.”

“Well, I'm gonna see you everyday at school, right?” She ask the question like she already know the answer, so there ain't no
reason for me to say nothing. “How long are you gonna stay with Cal?” she ask me.

“I don't know. A couple months, pro'ly. Or ‘til my pops get out.”

The cab driver pull into Bronxwood and ask me what building I'm going to. “Building A,” I say, pointing to the first building on the right.

He pull up in front, and I take the roll of bills out my pocket and pay the man. Before I can open the door, Jasmine stop me. “Promise me you not gonna start working for Cal and his brothers.” She look all worried ‘bout me all of a sudden. “Promise me.”

“Nah, I ain't working for them.” I start smiling, thinking ‘bout the party. Yeah, there was some wild shit that happened, but it was all good. My next one gonna be even better. “I'm a DJ,” I tell her. “C'mon, you seen me up there working them turntables. Girl, I got mad skills!”

Jasmine shake her head and start to laugh. Then I open the door and we get outta the cab. I stand out there for a couple seconds looking ‘round at them eight buildings and, man, I gotta say, it feel good coming back home to the projects. Where I belong.

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