Chameleon (37 page)

Unlike yesterday, I kept my mouth shut and walked away; she wasn’t worth the spit from my mouth or the headache in my head. I turned around to join the guys when the front door flew open. Oh, no.

“Shawn, what’s going on out here?” Auntie yelled.

The flying door hit Andre in the back, making him jump.

“And who are these boys?”

Shoot. This ain’t good. This ain’t good. I ran to the bottom of the steps.

“Ummm, these are my friends, Auntie. The ones I usually hang out with . . . after Mama drops me off. They were worried when they didn’t see me this morning, so they stopped by to make sure I was cool. Ummm . . . that’s Andre, Trent, and Lorenzo.”

She grumbled out a hello, then turned around to go inside when she heard, “Gertie! . . . Gertie! . . . I know you hear me!”

Auntie turned back around in her wrinkled housedress and staggered over to the fence. Aww, man, this is getting worse by the second. She looked fine right up until she staggered. Not good. I gotta get the fellas out of here.

“Ahhh, guys, maybe you should go.”

“Come on, Shawn, this looks like it’s gonna be good,” Trent said.

Yeah, good for everybody else to see. Bad for me.

“Come on, let’s go in the house and get some more water,” I said, nodding toward the house and stepping inside.

I led them into the kitchen. I hope they don’t see the bottle on the counter.

“You got ice?”

“What’s with you and ice, Trent?”

I twisted some cubes from the tray into their glasses. Lorenzo hunted through the fridge while Trent and Andre stared out the window at the commotion.

“You got any food in here, Shawn?”

“Yeah, ’Zo, here.” I handed him a jar from the fridge. “Try making a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich with ice-cold peanut butter.”

“Mannnn, my grandmama keep her peanut butter in the fridge too. Why old folks do that? It ain’t like it’s gonna go bad.”

The door slammed shut and I heard, “What’s this?”

I didn’t have to turn around to know what he was holding.

“Ayy, Shawn, your auntie and that lady really going at it,” Andre said from the window.

He and Trent each held a side of the curtain open. The window framed a picture of Auntie and Miss Bricknell yelling in each other’s face.

“Stay right here,” I said, rushing out the door.

Auntie was wagging her finger in Miss Bricknell’s face when I stepped in to pull her away.

“Let go of me, Shawn!”

The fellas came out onto the porch with glasses in their hands and shock in their eyes. I couldn’t look at them. My worst fear was happening right before my eyes. In a big way.

“You need to mind your business, you old HAG!” Auntie screamed in her face. She stormed past me and the fellas and into the house, slamming the door behind her.

“And you need to put down that bottle, you old DRUNK!” Miss Bricknell cackled with all her might.

She sucked her sourpuss at me, narrowed her beady little eyes, and went back to her precious roses. I watched her while the fellas watched me. I can’t believe this just happened. The moment I hoped would
never
come just went. One minute I’m talking about hair clips and a birthday party, the next I’m pulling my drunk aunt off her crazy old witch of a neighbor. What do you say after that? I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.

The fellas came off the steps and surrounded me. I felt their presence, but I couldn’t lift my head. The patch of grass under my feet held my attention as I searched for four-leaf clovers. I did that as a kid when I waited for Mama to pick me up. Maybe if I found one, my luck would change.

A hand touched my shoulder. Then another. Then another.

“We better go, Shawn.”

That was Andre.

“Yeah. But we’ll see you tomorrow, right? Same bat-time? Same bat-channel?”

That was Trent.

I nodded.

“Yeah, Shawn. We’ll be there.”

That was Lorenzo.

He shook my shoulder. “Just like we always are.”

“SHAWN, I ALMOST FORGOT . . . I got something for you,” Auntie said, disappearing into the kitchen while Mama waited in the car.

What now? She returned holding a five-dollar bill.

“What’s this for?”

“It’s all I got, but you earned it . . . for cleaning out the backyard. It looks great. You got rid of all that junk and weeded the garden too! I can’t wait to get some collards into the ground. Maybe some sweet potatoes and tomatoes too,” she said, thrusting the bill at me with a smile.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a smile on her face except in her old photos. I held the bill up. Can she afford to give me this?

“I can’t take your money, Auntie. You should keep it.”

“No, no, no. You earned that. My new garden will more than make up for it. Take it.” She pushed the bill into my hand. “You know what I’ll do with it.” She laughed.

A laugh? Where’d that come from?

I thanked her and raced out the door. I got in the car and showed Mama the bill just as she was about to start the car. She let go of the key. “Where’d you get that?”

“Auntie gave it to me.”

“What I tell you about lying to me, Shawn?”

I knew she would get like this.

“I’m not lying. You think I would show it to you if I was lying? I cleaned out her backyard today because she wants to start her garden back up, and she gave me this as I was leaving.”

She started the car. “Sis can’t afford that. You should have given it back.”

“I tried, but she said I earned it — and I did. I worked my tail off in the hot sun today. But that’s not all. She put the bill in my hand then said, ‘You know what I’ll do with it.’”

That turned Mama’s head. “She said that?”

“And then she laughed! Go ask her.”

Mama shook her head as we pulled away.

“My sister. Your auntie . . .” Mama laughed.

I stuffed the bill in my pocket and enjoyed the radio and the view on the way home. I didn’t have the heart to tell Mama what happened with the fellas, Auntie, and Miss Witch; it would only upset her. As bad as it was, it could have been worse if Auntie was more drunk. At least she didn’t cry and moan. Maybe that’s why she gave me the money. Maybe she felt bad about what happened yesterday. And today. Maybe not. Maybe she don’t even remember yesterday. I don’t know. I do know I worked my butt off today. And now I have five dollars more than I had yesterday.

“So you gonna help me out with some money when you get paid tomorrow?”

“I should be able to.”

“Should?”

“I still have bills to pay, Shawn. Remember? I gotta go grocery shopping, and you’re not exactly a light eater, you know.”

“But, Mama, you said . . .”

“I never promised you anything, Shawn.”

I turned away from her toward the window.

She touched my knee. “I can’t promise you much, but I can promise you twenty dollars.”

“Twenty bucks? That’s it?”

“Hey . . .”

“I know, I know, ‘I’m lucky to even be getting that,’” I said in my best impression of her.

“Don’t be smart, Shawn. There’s plenty you can get for twenty-five dollars.” She turned my way. “You could also clean out a few more backyards or do some yard work for folks. I’m sure somebody would pay you.”

My shirt felt sweaty just thinking about working under the hot sun again.

“I don’t think so. It’s too hot. I was dead tired by the time I was done!”

“I’m just saying, twenty-five could grow into fifty or more with a little hard work.”

I thought about Lorenzo and Dayshaun’s offer to make a quick fifty. If Dayshaun could afford to give Lorenzo fifty bucks to deliver a package, then I wonder how much he’s making. The crunch of bone on blacktop followed by a soul-piercing scream erased that question. The memory of Dayshaun snaking on the ground shifted my butt in my seat.

“You all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

I would love to have more money — not just for the gift, but for me too. I’m tired of relying on the fellas for money. Especially now that I know where Dayshaun’s money comes from. Maybe I can do some more work to earn some money for myself. But I can’t think about that now. Right now, I gotta focus on what I’m getting
Marisol.
Maybe me and the fellas can look around tomorrow as something to do. They’ve been cool about it so far, not messing with me or giving me a hard time. Plus, they didn’t make a big deal out of Auntie, which they could have easily. Maybe they won’t embarrass me after all. It would be good to goof with them at the party. A lot of my classmates will probably be there, but it won’t be the same without them. Now I wish they could go. I’ll ask them.

When we finished off yet another game of basketball the next day at DuBois, that’s just what I did.

“So y’all wanna come to the party?”

Our four bodies were spread across our two usual benches. Me and Trent on one, Andre and ’Zo on the other. Trent stretched his legs out while I hunched forward to catch my breath. The sun made my neck blacker by the second. Andre stood to dribble, giving Lorenzo space to lie down across the bench. My question pulled him up.

“You serious, Shawn?”

“As a heart attack.”

“I thought you said we weren’t invited,” Trent said.

“You weren’t. By her. But I’m inviting you — y’all wanna come or not?”

Andre stopped dribbling. “What time it start?”

“Seven.”

They all said, “Seven?”

“Now that’s a party,” Lorenzo said.

“Yup. She said her brother got a DJ and everything.”

Lorenzo got up to steal the ball from Andre.

“I can’t believe you, Shawn. Going to a party with a DJ, and you wasn’t even gonna invite us? That’s just wrong. We your boys,” Lorenzo said.

He was right. It’d be weird to not have them at the party with me after all we went through this summer, our last before high school.

Lorenzo gave up on stealing the ball and plopped down next to me on the bench, pushing Trent aside.

“Watch it, big boy,” Trent said.

“Don’t make me bring out the bags.”

Trent got up to join Andre.

“You’re right. So y’all wanna go or not?”

“Of course.”

“You kidding me?”

“What do you think?”

“Cool. Remind me to tell you where it’s at before I leave today.”

“So what’s up with your money situation? You get her anything?” Andre asked.

“My sister said you should get her a candle. A big one that smells nice, like flowers or the ocean. She said girls love that,” Trent said.

Lorenzo started, “Speaking of your fine —”

“Don’t start, Lorenzo.”

“Fine. But . . . a candle?”

“I was thinking we could go look at some stuff over on Wilmington before I go today. We still got some time. My auntie gave me a five yesterday for cleaning out the backyard, and my mama’s giving me a twenty tonight. That’s plenty for a gift. I could at least get some ideas.”

Andre picked up the ball. “Well, let’s go.”

We started out of the park, but Andre and Lorenzo stopped.

“Is that . . . ?”

“Yup.”

“With a . . . ?”

“Yup.”

Me and Trent brought up the rear, so I couldn’t see what they were looking at.

“Why y’all stop?”

I stepped out of Lorenzo’s shadow and blinked twice. POP. POP. My eyes zoomed in on Marisol laughing and leaning against Black Bruce’s tall practice tree, next to . . . who is that?

Blue tank top. Creased blue jeans. White boxers glowing. Blue bandanna hanging out the pocket just above black croc-a-sacks. A Crip? You gotta be kidding me!

It looked like he was alone with her.

“Aww, man, Shawn,” Lorenzo said.

“What should we do?” Andre said, turning to me.

“Let’s just go the other way,” Trent said.

“It don’t matter which way we go, Trent, she still talking to a Crip,” Lorenzo said.

I took a step back. Breathe, Shawn. What you gonna do? Should I keep walking and just ignore her, or turn around and go the other way?

“What you gonna do, Shawn?”

“Maybe she don’t even like him.”

“She sure ain’t acting like it.”

I watched the villain in blue press close to her while she laughed and pushed her hair out of her eyes — just like she did with me. Just like Yvonne. I knew it, these girls are all the same!

Lorenzo faced me and whispered, “Forget her, Shawn. There’ll be plenty of girls at Marshall . . . fine ones too.”

Or Carson.

We stood there. Just far enough to see but not be seen.

“We can’t stand here forever, Shawn,” Trent said. “What you wanna do?”

What do I wanna do? My nose picked up the stench of our sweat. My ears picked up bass-rattling cars bumping in the distance. Is this what Spidey sense feels like? My hand slid down the back of my sweat-covered neck. My mouth became dry as the desert. My eyes took snapshots of the tall jet-black ’banger in a dark-blue tank top and Marisol in yellow pedal pushers and a blouse to match. She laughed and tilted her head to the ground. Just like she did with me. I caught a glimpse of the butterfly clip in her hair — the one she wears the most. Mannnn . . . forget her, her hair clip, and her party too!

I stepped past the fellas and continued walking in the same direction. I didn’t care if she saw me. I’m tired of hangin’ in the background, blending in. I wanted to stand out. Like Malcolm said, sometimes you gotta stand up and be counted.