Pushin' Read online

  “What’s so wrong about them wanting you to be their spiritual house mother, especially if it’s because a family member fell ill?” I wash my hands, realizing I won’t be leaving as soon as I’d hoped.

  “People go to war all the time, just like in real families. And I guarantee they think their original iyalosha fell ill because of some spiritual backlash, and now they’re looking to replace her and gain revenge against the other house. Trust me, Jayd. This is no innocent inquiry. I felt his desperation before he touched me,” she says, changing out of her street clothes and into her whites. “Now I have to do a cleansing on myself to get rid of that negative-energy dumbass,” she says, wrapping her freshly done head in a white cloth before getting to work.

  “So how do you know when to help someone and when not to?” I ask, following her lead. I claim the basic staple ingredients for a head cleansing from the various glass jars lining the counter: coconut, cocoa butter, and white chalk. Mama will handle the rest. My job is always the grating, and these three items have to be grated to perfection. I might as well get to work.

  “When it’s all about the religion and not the individuals in it. If it doesn’t feel good—or God, as I like to say—don’t do it.” Mama used to tell me that all the time and I must say, she’s right. “So much about religion—be it social, personal, cultural—is about repression, sacrifice, and hatred. Separating ‘us’ from ‘them’ and then feeling self-righteous about the shit is the creed; doubt and fear are the practice. That sounds too much like prison to me.” Mama’s on point with that observation.

  I’m not down for any type of incarceration, spiritual or otherwise, and neither are the women in my lineage. We may be bound by blood, but our associations are our own. I’m so thankful for female wisdom, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. With Misty, Laura, and Nellie working overtime to secure my demise, I’m liable to slip up and keep myself from getting into a good school. I’ve got to learn to keep my cool completely when they get on my nerves.

  You sure do, baby, because schoolgirls never go away, ever, my mom says, adding her two cents to our mother-granddaughter moment. Mama looks at me, feeling the presence of her elder daughter in the room and smiles. So listen to Mama and do everything she tells you to keep the haters at bay. ’Bye, my mom says, exiting my thoughts as quickly as she appeared.

  “Your mother’s right, Jayd,” Mama says, already tapped into our telepathic conversation. “Listen to me and do everything I say, starting with helping me strengthen this potion of yours after our head cleansings. Then you can go home and get some rest.” All of the above sounds good to me, especially the part about me getting some sleep. Mama looks like she could use some, too. It’s been a long day for us both and tomorrow will most likely be the same drama, just a different day.

  6

  School Daze

  “Now I got my foot through the door/And I ain’t going nowhere.”

  —EVE FEATURING GWEN STEFANI

  The morning fog is thick, limiting my visibility on the way from Inglewood to Compton, but luckily I can drive this route with my eyes closed. After Mama and I finished our work last night, I left my prescribed potion on the shrine to be blessed by the ancestors. I had to leave for school twenty minutes earlier than I normally would to make the necessary detour to pick up the potion. With the ASU officer elections today and cheer tryouts on Friday, I’m going to need all the help I can get against Misty and my other school haters to make it through the next three days.

  I park the car in front of my grandparents’ house and quickly make my way to the backhouse. Locating the small green vial on the shrine, I say a short prayer and walk out of the spirit room and through the backyard without disturbing anyone sleeping in the main house. Locking the gate behind me, I look back, thinking I heard something, but I’m alone, or so I think. With my car parked on the street, I’ve left myself open to an unwelcome morning visitor.

  “You’re looking more and more like your mother every day,” Esmeralda says to me from the safety of her enclosed front porch. I’m sure she’s noticed I’ve moved out and that means Misty knows my family business, too. I know better than to look the wench in her evil blue eyes, but she’s making it difficult to avoid her icy glare. There’s something about Esmeralda that pulls you to look at her, almost like a magnet for eyes. As many times as I’ve been crippled by Esmeralda’s vision in one way or another, I’ve learned my lesson.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say. Keeping my eyes to the ground, I quickly walk toward my mom’s car, stepping out into the street and walking around to the driver’s side rather than remaining on the sidewalk, trying to keep as much distance between us as possible. I open the driver’s side door and place the bag of goodies inside. Along with my potion I also grabbed some more belly balm for Mickey. I hope she appreciates it.

  “You should. Your mother was a worthy adversary, just like you and your grandmother,” Esmeralda says, coming to the front of her gated porch and holding the bars like she’s in prison. I guess living in that pet infested, worn-down home is like a cell, especially with the warden living next door. She’s being hella bold this morning, speaking to me when she knows Mama will have her ass if she finds out.

  “Lynn Marie’s a beautiful girl. I remember the day she was born. You do know I was her godmother at one time and that I helped to deliver her, don’t you?” No longer able to resist her magnetic glare, I stare into Esmeralda’s eyes, unwillingly sharing her memory. The vision of Mama in labor with her firstborn snaps to the front of my mind like a movie. I can see Mama pushing and Esmeralda there to catch my mother.

  “That was a long time ago,” I say, shaking the vision out of my head. How did she do that? I don’t want to see anything this woman has to offer, nor did I intend to get inside her head. I force my eyes back down, breaking my vision quest with Esmeralda.

  “When your mother lost her sight it was a terrible loss for us all.” What did she just say to me? I knew she and Misty gave me the head cold I mysteriously caught on my birthday, which was a direct result of me attempting to tap into Misty’s convoluted mind. But using my mom’s vision against me is a whole other thing completely.

  “Since you caused the loss, I doubt you’re that sorry about it. And you’re not a part of my family or our lineage, no matter what role you once played,” I say, trying to get in the car. I again try to keep from looking up, but my head is hot and her eyes are cool, pulling me toward her.

  “All is not completely lost, is it, little Jayd?” Esmeralda asks, her eyes becoming too cool for me to handle. I don’t feel so good.

  “Can we help you, Esmeralda?” Mama asks, stepping onto the front porch and freeing me from the conversation. Esmeralda always sends chills up my spine, usually resulting in me having a headache or worse. I don’t have time to be sick today.

  “Not yet, but I’ll let you know soon,” Esmeralda says before retreating back into her house. What was that all about? Mama walks down the porch steps and I walk toward her, meeting halfway up the driveway where Daddy’s Cadillac is parked. She checks me out with her eyes, causing me to feel better already. Mama looks as worried about Esmeralda’s last response as I am.

  “We’ll talk about it later, Jayd,” Mama says, feeling me. “Never engage that old crow again, you hear me?” I wish it were that easy. And now that same crow knows I’ve regained possession of my mom’s gift of sight. That can’t be good, especially since I haven’t even told Mama yet.

  “I tried to ignore her, Mama, but she has some sort of pull.” Mama looks at my left arm, noticing I forgot to wear my bracelets again and I can’t say shit. But at least this time they’re in the car.

  “Wear your bangles at all times, Jayd. What good is having protection if you don’t use it?” She’s got a point there.

  “Okay, Mama. I will. They’re in my purse—I just forgot to put them on once I got in the car this morning,” I explain on my way back to my mom’s Mazda. “I’m even wearing a
green vest to match for good luck,” I say, waving to Mama. I have to get going if I want to make it to school in Redondo Beach on time.

  “I love you, baby, and remember to use what you’ve got,” Mama says, reminding me to not only sport my bangles but also to use my potion. I have a busy day ahead of me and with the way my morning started, it’s going to be an interesting school day, to say the least. All that matters in the end is if it turns out my way, starting with me being referred to as ASU president.

  The rest of my day has been pretty full so far, yet all I can think about is my run-in with Esmeralda this morning. I don’t know what Misty and her wicked godmother are up to now, but it’s got me nervous as all get-out. If Esmeralda tries to use my mother’s powers for her own benefit and Mama finds out I kept it from her, that’s my ass no matter how it goes. My jade bracelets are in place and the potion has been taken, making me as ready as I’ll ever be for the vote in a few minutes.

  I was supposed to meet Chance as soon as the lunch bell rang five minutes ago, but he’s not here yet. We not only have to be on time for the meeting in order to vote, but we also need to find time to rehearse for our auditions next period, and he hasn’t even memorized his lines yet. What the hell is up with my boy? Maybe I should take up his mom on her dinner invitation and have a little talk with her, ganging up on my friend all the while. As long as Mr. Carmichael’s not there I can take it. A free dinner’s a free dinner, no matter whose house it’s served at.

  “What’s crackin’?” Chance asks, walking into the quad outside of our speech class, looking like he’s straight out of a Ludacris video. What the hell?

  “Hey, Chance. I see you went on a little shopping spree while in the A last weekend, huh?” I’m used to him dressing like the hip-hop head he is, but the sparkly jeans hanging off his ass and matching gaudy belt is a bit much for me. And if it’s too much for me, I know it’s going to be over-the-top for his preppy girlfriend.

  “Scratch that Chance shit, baby. My name is Chase, like the bank, because I’m paid, you feel me?” Chance says, smiling and showing off his new gold grill. He did not come back from a weekend down South with some gold and diamonds covering his teeth. This can’t be real. Nellie, Mickey, and Nigel join us just in time for the one-man fashion show. I wonder if Nellie has seen this new Chance today. He was absent from fourth period but here now for all to see.

  “Hey, baby,” Nellie says, ignoring me, but she can’t ignore her man. Astronauts in space can see Chance’s bright attire and accessories from where he’s standing.

  “What’s up with you, shawty?” Chance asks Nellie, attempting to kiss her, but she’s too blinded by his smile for that.

  “What the hell is that in your mouth?” Nellie screams, reaching up and grabbing her man by the jaw. I guess she’s just as surprised as I am by our friend’s transformation. Chance gladly parts his lips, allowing the world to see his new bling. Nigel and Mickey look impressed at the jewelry and Nellie looks equally disgusted.

  “Damn, look at all that ice. Your grill’s worth more than my ride,” KJ says admiringly as he passes us by to enter our classroom, ready to vote for himself for president, I assume. Del and Money are right along with him, eyeing Chance’s new mouth gear like kids in a candy store. I know they’re secretly hating on Chance’s money. They can only dream of having a grill worth a quarter of what that one costs.

  “Yeah, man. It probably is. I got it made when I was down South. I had to have it set right when I got back and now it fits like butter, baby. Know what I’m saying?” Chance says, putting his arm around Nellie’s shoulders and attempting to kiss her again, but she’s not having it. From what I know of my girl, Chance is becoming her worst nightmare overnight, and vice versa. The last thing Chance wants is a wannabe white girl, and Nellie will be damned if she dates anyone hood—rich and white or not.

  “No, I don’t know what you’re saying nor do I want to as long as you’re talking with that thing in your mouth,” Nellie says, pushing Chance’s face hard before storming into the classroom, and I’m right behind her. I’ve had enough of the new Chase for one day. Ever since he got back from Atlanta he’s been a different person: name, teeth, and all. I miss my old friend. I should’ve kept my mouth shut about him having some black in him and he probably would never have found out about being adopted. Well, at least not on my watch. I just hope Chance’s new look hasn’t completely clouded his judgment and he votes right.

  “Let’s get started, young people,” Mr. Adewale says as the fifteen or so club members settle down. Ms. Toni walks in and takes her customary seat behind his desk as Mr. A continues from his post by the board. “I know we’re all anxious to finally get this vote over with and our officers settled for next year,” Mr. Adewale says, passing out the voting packets containing the anonymous speeches for each office.

  “You’ll have fifteen minutes to read each speech and then vote for your favorite ones for each office. Any questions?” Ms. Toni says, winking at me as she glances around the room.

  “Yeah. Can we identify our speech after we vote?” KJ asks. That’s actually not a bad question.

  “Yes, you can. Remember, you’re voting silently; there’s absolutely no communication allowed. Read the words carefully and consider each speech separate from personalities.” Ms. Toni and Mr. Adewale serve as guards for the tensest fifteen minutes of my life. I, of course, know my own words. But judging strictly off of someone else’s written words is more difficult than I thought it would be. What if one of these letters belongs to Misty, and I accidentally vote her into an office? That’s just unacceptable to me, but I have to vote.

  “Time,” Mr. Adewale says. Here goes nothing. He collects the papers and tallies the results with Ms. Toni. We’re all too nervous to chat it up so we eat our lunches in silence.

  “Our new ASU officers are—” Ms. Toni says, adjusting her glasses on the tip of her nose for dramatic effect. She loves her job as the activities director and mentoring students and teachers alike. “Our new secretary is Alia. The position of treasurer will be held by Chance. Emilio is our vice president and Jayd, you’re our new president. Congratulations, everyone,” Ms. Toni says, making my day. KJ, Misty, and the rest of their crew look pissed off. I bet he doesn’t want to identify his speech now that he’s lost.

  “That’s the bell, young people,” Mr. Adewale says. “Our next meeting will be the first you hold as officers. Let’s make it a good one,” he says as Ms. Toni rises from her seat, giving each of the officers a big hug.

  “Jayd, I’m so proud of you,” Ms. Toni says, whispering in my ear. She can’t show favoritism in front of the other students, but I can feel the love. “Now, please do me proud in drama class, too.”

  “I’ll do my best. See you later, Ms. Toni and Mr. Adewale,” I say, walking with the rest of the crowd toward our fifth periods. Shae, Tony, Misty, and the rest of the South Central crew look salty as hell. Oh well. They voted, too. It wasn’t my fault KJ’s speech apparently sucked.

  “Later, madam president,” Mr. A says, no longer hiding his enthusiasm for my victory. Madam president: I like the sound of that. And I also like that we have a diverse cabinet for ASU. Ever since hanging out with Alia, Charlotte, and the rest of the AP study group last month, I like Alia’s swag and think she’ll be a great asset. Emilio, on the other hand, is too much of an ass kisser for me. But he won fair and square, so I have to work with him whether I like it or not.

  “Congrats, Lady J,” Chance says, putting his arm around my neck as we wave ’bye to Nigel and Mickey, who also congratulate us on our wins. Nellie doesn’t say a word to either of us and leaves before we can say anything to her. I guess she’s had enough excitement for one day.

  “Congratulations to you, too. So are we ready for another victory?” I ask. The blank look on Chance’s face tells me he’s completely forgotten about the auditions this afternoon. Shit. He can’t do me like this—not now.

  “Ah, baby, I completely forgot about the audit
ions today. But I got you on the last round,” he says, walking toward the parking lot next to the drama room instead of the class itself.

  “Chance, you can’t skip out on me. I need you,” I say, realizing he’s on another mission that has nothing to do with the play. “What the hell am I going to do about the dialogue scene?”

  “Girl, you don’t need me. Besides, I told you I got you next time. You know Mrs. S can’t say no to me,” he says, walking toward his car, which he starts with his key-chain remote. “I’ve got to get my new rims locked properly before someone jacks me, girl. You understand,” Chance says. Hell no, I don’t understand and I’m sure Chance can tell from my silence that he’s going to pay for this little stunt, big-time. The final bell for fifth period rings, signaling my looming fate. If I don’t have a partner for the scene, I forfeit my audition for the lead role just like that. I have to find someone else to read with and fast.

  The line for auditions is long, with partners practicing outside, including Laura and Reid, who look thrilled to see me alone. While Chance or Chase or whoever he is today continues to go through his identity crisis, I’m still without a leading man. What the hell am I going to do now? I walk through the crowd and into the drama room on the way to the theater, anxious to sign up.

  “Congratulations on your win, Jayd,” Emilio says from where he’s standing near the main stage door. What the hell is he doing all the way down here?

  “Yeah, you too,” I say, passing him by to find the sign-up sheet in its usual spot on the podium. I take the clipboard and flip the pages until I find an empty slot. With all five periods combined, there are over one hundred and fifty drama students, not to mention the other fifty or so students not in the class who want to try out for the last play of the year. Emilio continues standing over my shoulder and I continue trying to ignore him. I sign my name in one of four available slots for the dialogue auditions, praying someone comes through for me by the end of the period. This dude has a lot of nerve talking to me after that little show he and his godfather put on at Mama’s house yesterday afternoon. I’ve successfully avoided Emilio all day long, but he’s caught me off guard in the last place I’d expect to see him.