“Well, all righty then,” I say, taking Daddy's words to heart. As much as it may appear that they hate each other, it looks like the onlookers, including me, are terribly wrong. I wonder if Mama knows how much she still means to Daddy. Maybe if she did, they'd be a little sweeter to each other. “I better get back there. And thanks for the talk,” I say, leaving Daddy to his work and us to ours.
“No problem. And, tweet, no matter what happens in life, stay sweet. That is, after all, why I gave you your nickname,” Daddy says, returning to his waxing.
“I thought it was because I looked like a little yellow bird when I was born,” I say, repeating the story my mom told me.
“Well, that, too, but mostly because when your grandmother saw you for the first time, she said you were so sweet. In that baby talk of hers it sounded like tweet, and that's what stuck in my head.” The rare times he's home, I love vibing with my grandfather. But I better get to the back before Mama sends Lexi after me.
Â
“Where have you been, girl? I was starting to get worried,” Mama says, filling the large tin basin with water and white flowers for Netta's bath. Netta must be inside grating her cocoa butter and concentrating on her prayers. The cleansing process starts in the mind, as my lessons stated last night. Nobody gives a head cleansing like Mama. “Go clean up and put your whites on, Jayd. We have a lot of work to do.” Mama picks more roses from the bushes next to the miniature house. The scent of the flowers rises to my nose, making me feel calmer than I've felt all week. The term “soul work” must've originated with the Williams Women legacy because I always feel lifted when doing Mama's work.
“Are you feeling better?” I ask her. She looks like nothing ever happened. How can she be so forgiving all the time? I guess that family trait skipped both me and my mom.
“I feel good, girl. Now go get dressed and bring Netta out here with you when you're ready. Did you study the
rogación
ingredients and their purposes?” Mama asks, grilling me before I even have a chance to get in the door good.
“Yes, I did,” I say as I walk into the tiny kitchen where Netta, also robed in white, sits at the table with a plate full of shredded cocoa butter in front of her. The soft Cuban drumbeats in the background massage my temples, inviting me into the sacred space. This is why I come home. I nod hello to Nettaâwho can only nod back, as during a cleansing the client is forbidden to speakâand head to the back of the breezy room. There are windows on each wall, leaving little privacy, but Mama's fixed that, too.
I take my whites off the hanger behind the bathroom door and go behind the Chinese screens to change; there's no room in the small washroom to even turn around in. Mama's maximized all the space in this room to perfection. It's amazing that she can fit everything in here that she does. None of her clients have ever complained about the cozy space or the prices Mama charges for her work, which I think isn't nearly enough. The only thing they ever say is that they feel the spirit in here, as do I.
“Are you ready?” I ask Netta as I take her by the arm and lead her out of the room, cocoa butter in hand.
“Jayd, help Netta kneel beside the basin and then go and bring me all the ingredients for an Ori cleansing,” Mama says, confident I already memorized my lessons. Since we've been concentrating on the power of thoughts, all my lessons have been about one's Ori, or personal destiny. Osun, our deity, isn't even as powerful as an individual's Ori. Nothing can substitute the blessings of one's destiny when you really need to get something done.
I walk back into the kitchen and retrieve the soft black soap I pounded last night, fresh spinach from our garden and some red palm oil from the cabinet. When Mama sees my loot, she looks at me, proud of my progress. I have to admit, I'm kind of proud of myself for this one. Because the lessons weren't all about Queen Califia, Osun or Maman but also about other important elements of our way of life, I didn't take it seriously at first. But now I see the value in the individual sections of Mama's spirit book, and I'm anxious to learn more. This must be where my mom got bored and stopped studying.
“Jayd, hold this sheet up so I can begin the cleansing,” Mama says, handing me a kingsize white sheet to hide us from any nosey onlookers along the exposed side of the wall. Luckily we're shielded by fig trees and the garage on the other side facing the house. But you never know who may want to sneak a peak. Clients are always cleansed outside, even Netta. I prefer to do my cleansings out here as well. But Mama prefers we do ours inside to be closer to our family shrines.
Â
After we finish Netta's ceremony, her husband picks her up while Mama and I clean up and catch up on yesterday's happenings at school.
“Jayd, I know you don't want to help her, but you and I both know that Nellie's in way over head with this one,” she says, sweeping the floor where a nesting Lexi lies. Oh, to be a dog in Mama's world. “Mickey will eat her alive if her true enemies don't get to her first.”
“I know,” I say in total agreement. Nellie has crossed dangerous territory messing with her friend turned enemy. “I don't understand how she thought Tania and them would make better friends than me and Mickey. The girl's completely lost her mind.” I wash the rest of the ceremonial dishes before drying them off and return them to the counter. If people saw all the work Mama puts into her rituals, they'd give her at least double what she asks.
“It's not about who would make a better friend, Jayd,” Mama says, taking a seat and stretching her legs under the table. Mama's been back here all day and still has more work to do before Halloween this weekend. I still haven't got my costume together. I'm going to raid my mom's closet as usual when I get there on Friday. Jeremy's going to take me straight there because he knows I have to get ready for the dance.
“Then what is it, because I don't get it. A crown can't be that serious,” I say, joining her at the table. It's almost nine, and I've got mad homework due by the end of the week. Tomorrow will have to be another crunch day in the library if I'm going to get it all done.
“Oh, Jayd, some people don't know how good they've got it until it's gone,” she says, sounding like she's not talking about my school problems at all. “I'm sure Nellie regrets everything she's done by now and wants to find her way back to y'all, but it's hard to admit when you're wrong.”
“So you're saying we should just forgive her like she didn't betray us both?” I say. I can't believe Mama's giving me the “turn the other cheek” rationalization after all she's been through with frenemies. And although Mama may turn the other cheek, she never closes her eyes.
“No, I'm not saying be stupid, Jayd. I'm just saying try to put yourself in her shoes before you're so quick to write her off as your enemy. Real friends are hard to come by, no matter how stupid they may act sometimes. Mickey was right to smack her; I would've done the same thing,” Mama says, her emerald eyes displaying the youth behind her gray hairs. “Sometimes it's better if a friend kicks your ass, rather than an enemy; the pain is out of love more so than hate. And sometimes that's what it takes to turn things around.” Mama's right; I've been too soft about this whole thing. I need to concentrate on checking Nellie's ass first, Tania next. I need all my allies with me, and if I have to get rough, then that's what I'll have to do, no matter what Jeremy or his dad may think of how we sistahs handle our business.
14
Kick-Ass Boots
“One of these days these boots/
Are gonna walk all over you.”
âNANCY SINATRA
A
fter last night's festivities, I didn't have much time to study or do any homework, so I spent all my free time in the library today, which was cool. Mickey's in in-house suspension again for the next two days, and Nigel, because he's a football player, was given his sentence in the gym. I don't know how the school justifies lifting weights as a punishment. But that's part of the perks that come with being an athlete. All I know is I better get to Nellie before Mickey does and try to talk some sense into her. But with her playing the disappearing act, it's going to make it hard for me to do.
“Hey, Jayd, are you ready to go?” Jeremy says, surprising me at my locker. I guess now's as good a time as any to ask for the receipt so I can take back my purse. I hate to do it, especially since our relationship seems to be on thin ice. But I've got to stand up to him and let him know that, unlike other chicks he's used to dating, my principles aren't for sale.
“Yeah,” I say, closing my locker and taking his hand. “Would you mind if we stopped by the mall on the way home?” I go in for the kill. “I need to take something back.”
“Something like what,” he says, looking at me suspiciously. “I haven't seen you sporting the new bag. Is there something wrong with it?” He sounds so sweet I almost chicken out. But I've got to be strong.
“The bag is beautiful,” I say, momentarily envying Mickey's nonchalant attitude when it comes to material things. “But I can't keep it.” My gold
J
bangle falls down my wrist as I slip my hand out of his and continue walking toward the exit; it reminds me that I've already been bought twice in our short relationship.
“Jayd, what's this all about?” Jeremy says, catching up to me and reclaiming my hand. He stops me in the now empty hall, turning me around to look him in the face. “Are you still upset with me because of what Tania said to you the other day?”
“Yes, but it's not just that,” I say. “How can I get you to understand that although I appreciate your gifts, that's not what I want or need from a boyfriend.” If Mickey could only hear me now, she'd probably have me committed to an insane asylum or something. Nellie, too, for that matter.
“What the hell!” Jeremy yells, letting out his frustrations and stealing my coined phrase. “You are the most difficult girl I've ever dated.” He puts his hands over his head and squeezes the brim of his baseball cap. He looks like he wants to blow up, but he contains his anger.
“Well, judging by your exes, that's a compliment,” I say. “Look, I'm not a simple bitch who can be deterred by the bling. And believe it or not, I actually like buying my own stuff; it makes me feel proud.” I feel good about my stance, now that it's out in the open.
“Proud,” he says, like he can't believe what I just said. “You feel proud spending your hard-earned money on a bag that I can buy without even thinking about how much it cost?” Now he sounds cocky. “That's stupid, Jayd. You should save your money to help your family or whatever it is you need to do with it.”
“Help my family?” I ask. What is he talking about? “Who told you my family needed help?” Has he been talking to Misty? That sounds like some shit she'd say. But I know better than that. He wouldn't even give that heffa the time of day after she ratted him out for selling weed on campus.
“Well, isn't that why you don't want me to see where you live? You're too embarrassed to have me over,” he says, pissing me way the hell off. I knew he still wondered why I allowed him to take me only as far as the bus stop after school. But I didn't think he thought it was because I was poor. This dude is too much if he thinks he's rescuing me or something.
“No, fool, it's not because I'm embarrassed about my house,” I say, punching him in the arm and walking through the back door of the hall. “I'm embarrassed to have you over,” I add, finally letting it all hang out. “I don't want to get clowned for bringing the beach boy to the hood.” I never would have told him my feelings in that way, but he pushed me, and now they're out.
“Okay, Jayd, if you say so,” he says, following me through the quad and toward the bus stop. “But I think we both know the truth. That's why I didn't want to tell you what my dad thinks, because it's all about race, class and money, and that shit don't matter to me.”
“If it doesn't matter to you so much,” I say, speed walking up the hill, “then why did you take it upon yourself to think about my money for me, huh? Why not just give me the money if you think we need it so damn much?”
“Jayd, you're too proud for your own good,” Jeremy says, sounding like he's my daddy. “You need to just relax and accept my attention. It also wouldn't hurt you to be a little grateful, too.” This time he's gone too far.
“Who do you think you are? Captain Save-a-Ho or somebody ?” I say.
“Who?” he asks, looking confused. I forget he won't get some of my jokes.
“Don't patronize me, Jeremy. You're so delusional, you actually thought I'd be silenced by a purse,” I say, taking the expensive bag out of my backpack and throwing it at him. “Take the damned thing back yourself. I'm taking the bus back to my little poorhouse in Compton.” I feel hotter than a tiny red chili pepper right about now.
“Jayd, I think you're overreacting just a bit!” Jeremy yells after me. But I don't care. He's got all kinds of stuff going on in his head about me that I never imagined. What the hell is really up? All I know is that these Timberlands are going to give me a blister by the time I get home. If I had known I was going to be walking this afternoon, I would've worn my Nikes. It's been only a few weeks and I've already become so spoiled by Jeremy and didn't even know it. The three bus rides and the walk home will do me some good.
I need to cool off before talking with Jeremy again because we have a lot of issues to get straight. All this time I thought he was falling in love with me because he thought I was strong and independent. But now I see I'm more like his charity case who comes with the added benefit of pissing off his dad. I hate to admit when I'm wrong, but I think I overlooked a lot about dating Jeremy. And to top it off, he's again not accompanying me to a school dance, leaving me vulnerable to Rah's advances, and I know he's going to be there waiting for his chance to get at me again, which now I'm ready to admit I'm looking forward to. At least Rah's real with me always, no matter how much it hurts.
Â
With Mickey and Nigel still on lockdown and Nellie avoiding me like the plague, today was very quiet. Jeremy and I have hardly spoken a word to each other all day, and that's just fine with me. I think we're both feeling like we may have rushed into this relationship without really getting to know each other. I don't know that we will remain friends if we break up or if we would've ever really been friends in the first place. Sometimes I'm attracted to people I don't really like. And I don't know what to do about any of those people in my life right now.
My mom picked me up from school since she had the day off today. She doesn't take personal days often, but she and Karl are going to Las Vegas tonight, so she had to go shopping, get her hair whipped and do her nails. By the time we get back to her house, I'll have just enough time left with her to pick out my Halloween outfit and send her off, leaving me to get ready alone. Mickey's going to pick me up at eight so we can be fashionably late to the festivities.
“So, have you decided what you're going as?” my mom says, turning onto Century Boulevard, just minutes away from her house.
“Not really. I know I want to go as Coffy, but I'm not sure which scene,” I say, referring to one of our favorite movies. When I was a little girl, my mom used to watch all the Black films from the seventies:
Super Fly, Shaft, Foxy Brown
and
Coffy
, just to name a few. They're our own version of superheroes from the hood.
“Oh, I have the cutest nurse's outfit from last year's Halloween party at your aunt Vivica's house. You can wear that if you want,” she says, giving me a naughty wink. I've always picked my costumes out of hand-me-downs, unlike the majority of students at South Bay, who spend more on a costume than I would on clothes for the entire semester.
“Mom, this is high school, not the strip club,” I say. Sometimes my mom forgets I'm still a teenager. I know a lot of these girls out here be letting it all hang out, but I'm not one of them.
“Girl, it's classy, I promise.” As we turn onto Arbor Vitae, almost home, I see children already out with an assortment of plastic faces and pumpkins for collecting candy. My mom has never been into trick-or-treating, so I doubt there's any candy for them waiting at her door. She used to take me and my cousin Jay to the mall, and we'd walk around collecting candy from the various stores, and then we'd spend the rest of the night at Daddy's church, where they always had something going on for the kids. I miss those days.
“Okay, I'll check it out when we get home,” I say. One benefit of going as a nurse who kicks ass on the side is that I'll be dressed for the part of helping out those in need, because I'm sure there's going to be plenty of drama to go around tonightâblood, worms and all.
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“These boots are fierce,” I say, taking from her jam-packed closet the red leather boots behind the clean white outfit covered with a plastic bag.
“Yeah, they really make the costume.” And she's right. It's a long nurse's dress with buttons all the way down and a slit on the right side. The small nurse's hat with the red cross on it is the only thing medical about this outfit. “I told you it was classy,” she says, taking the boots out of the bag and placing them on the floor beside my feet. She takes out her small carry-on luggage and starts to pack for her overnight adventure.
“Okay, but what am I going to do with these?” I say, looking at the three-inch heels, knowing I'm setting myself up for disaster if I wear those things.
“Oh, Jayd, stop being so shy,” she says, taking one of the boots and putting it on. She's stunning and can work the hell out of any shoes, unlike me. “It's all in your hips, see?” She models the perfect sassy strut in the mirror.
“Yeah, I can see myself falling on my face in the gym.” As the image of me sliding across the basketball court enters my mind, so does the one of Nellie having a mouthful of worms for dessert. Sensing my discomfort, my mom walks over to me, holding my face in her hands.
“Oh, Jayd, why didn't you tell me you had another dream? And such an awful image,” she says, seeing what I'm seeing for herself. My mom's powers trip me out. But it seems to me she's more in control of them than I am of mine, even without finishing her lessons with Mama.
“Mom, how do you keep from reading my thoughts when you don't want to?” I ask. My mom sits down on the bed next to me, patting my thigh.
“It's all about willpower. Remember how somewhere in the spirit book it talks about mind over matter and how your Ori is the one who can help you before anyone else?” she says, reminding me of the ceremony we just did for Netta a couple days ago. “Well, that's how I control my thoughts creeping into your headâby allowing my Ori to take over, instead of me forcing the issue of not wanting to think about your shit,” she says, sounding more like Mama than she'll ever admit to.
“So you're saying I can learn to control my dreams?” Imagine that. If I could control what I dream about and when, I wouldn't know what to do with myself. Or if I could change the outcome without having to go through it in the real world, now that would be tight.
“Not necessarily,” my mom says, bursting my bubble. “But you can control the way they affect you. For example,” she says, sliding the long boot off of her thin leg, “Nellie eating worms shouldn't affect your feelings. You should be able to see that and see the final outcome of the situation you want and not feel a thing. Separate your vision from your emotions, Jayd. Then and only then will you have a little more control over your powers.” Damn, I never thought about it like that. Have my feelings toward Nellie in some way caused this situation to occur in my dreams, and now in real life?
Yes, more than likely they have,
my mom answers me in her head while getting up to take a shower. “But once you get the hang of them, you'll be able to help people just like Maman and Mama do. I have faith in your abilities, little girl,” she says, taking the cutest purple bra and panties out of her top dresser drawer and heading into the bathroom.
I need to catch up with Mickey before she gets here. I tried calling Nellie several times throughout the day, but, as usual, she's not answering her phone.
“What's up, Mickey?” I say into the phone. It sounds like I've interrupted her doing God only knows what. I've learned never to ask, where Mickey's concerned.