Holidaze Read online

  “Mom, not now. Rah and I are having a serious conversation,” I relay back to her. Rah looks at me, waiting for a response, but this ain’t like walking and chewing bubblegum. I can only concentrate on one conversation at a time.

  “Don’t you think so, Jayd?” Rah asks. I can barely nod my head in agreement as my mother continues her chatter in my head. Rah looks at the look on my face and acknowledges the transformation. It may take him a little while but he can always tell when my mom’s in my head. I’m glad at least one of my friends is familiar with my lineage and all the idiosyncrasies that come with it.

  “Jayd, I’m serious. If you really want to solve the issues that you, Rah, and your friends experienced during the holidays, there’s a punch recipe in the spirit book that can handle that. And it tastes good, too.” Ever since we found out that my mom’s powers are only in effect to help mine grow, she’s been anxious to relive her teenage days of conjuring, through me.

  “Bye mom,” I say, devoting my attention to Rah and Rah alone.

  “I’m sorry about that, but I plan on making up this Valentine’s Day to you in a real way.” If he knew that Jeremy has already asked me out for that night he’d be so pissed. But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And I still need a date to the dance if we’re going at all.

  “What do you have in mind?” I’m glad I tuned back into the conversation, right in time to hear this. After all of the drama we’ve been through lately, having a regular date like a regular couple will be nice. Now that he has his baby full-time, we’re going to have to account for her, too.

  “She’s not your baby, Jayd. I already told you about that, girl. Don’t end up being a teenage stepmama like I was. Rahima is Rah’s responsibility. Let him figure it out,” my mom says, giving her last two cents before she’s finally out.

  “Well, I was thinking we could go out that night. What do you think?” I just knew he would want to take me to the dance and skip the personal celebration, especially with our history on that day. The three we spent together as a couple over the years didn’t turn out so well, and I doubt this year will be any different.

  “Don’t you want to go to the dance? I’m sure Nigel’s taking Mickey, isn’t he?” If we all go together maybe there will be less tension when we see Nellie. I know she’ll be there, sporting her new crew and boyfriend.

  “I don’t know about that one, boo. He’s not really in the mood.”

  “But they have to go. Nigel’s still on the football team, hurt or not, and I know they’re going to want him to at least make an appearance.”

  “Jayd, it’s not that simple,” Rah says. I can hear the hesitation in Rah’s voice. What’s he holding back?

  “What’s going on with Nigel? What aren’t you telling me, Rah, other than what you and Trish really got into last night.” I know we’re not talking about us, but I want him to know I ain’t over that shit—not yet. I believe him when he says she was only there because of her brother, but completely trusting Rah is still a work in progress.

  “Jayd, they are thinking of throwing Nigel off the team and sending him back to Westingle.”

  “What?” Ah hell, no. This isn’t good for anyone. “How can they do that when he was an innocent bystander who got shot? Their star quarterback could’ve been killed, and this is how they’re treating him?” Being black in a mostly white school is never any fun, not even for the school’s best football player.

  “The administration and the coaches in particular don’t see it that way. They think Nigel is in a gang and brought this on himself, especially since he was involved with a gang-banger’s girl and got her pregnant within his first month being there. Not to mention the fact that he was accused of ditching on a regular basis before this all happened. Basically they say he’s dragging down the South Bay High name and he needs to pay for his actions.”

  “So he’s their sacrificial lamb? If they want to make an example out of someone why does it have to be him? Nigel needs to play ball and he needs to be with Mickey and their baby.”

  “Mickey’s baby, maybe his,” Rah corrected.

  “Wait a minute. I thought you were all for Nigel claiming this baby with or without a paternity test.” After that long-ass lecture he gave me about him just knowing he was Sandy’s baby daddy, I know he’s not tripping about Nigel feeling the same way.

  “I’m for whatever my boy’s for,” Rah says, breathing deeply. I know he’s in a tough spot being both my and Nigel’s friend. “And right now my boy’s for saving his ass, and I don’t blame him. I mean, if it’s his baby he’s going to take care of it, no doubt. But Mickey and her drama wasn’t in the plan.”

  “Well, Nigel should’ve thought about his plan before he slept with Mickey. She never lied about her situation. That boy knew what he was getting into,” I say, pissed for Mickey, who I know is going to be beside herself once she finds out about all of this. She’s not stupid. Mickey knows something’s wrong, but she has no idea it’s this serious.

  “Yeah, I feel you, girl. But this isn’t really our business, and we have to let Nigel deal with this shit in his own way. Besides, his mom and dad are all up in his ear too, so he’s got a lot to deal with right now, and Mickey pressuring him isn’t going to help.”

  “I know you’re right about that, Rah, but still. He can’t leave Mickey hanging like this. She’s about to split a wig trying to get to him, especially after he walked away from her on Friday. She’s worried about the baby, Rah.”

  “He’s got his career to think about, Jayd, and that’s part of taking care of his seed, too. Just tell her to back off for now, please. It’s the only thing she can do, really.” Well, I guess that’s that. Nigel thought he could handle being with a gangster girl but he’s bitten off more than he could chew. There’s no going back, so what he’s going to do now is the real question.

  7

  Misty Morning

  “Don’t jump in the water if you can’t swim.”

  —BOB MARLEY

  I hate these types of mornings and so does my hair. There’s not enough moisture to justify keeping my windshield wipers on, but there’s just enough mist in the air to limit my visibility. When I stepped outside of Mama’s house a few moments ago my straight ponytail turned into a huge fuzz ball before I even made it to my mom’s car. Luckily it was a national holiday yesterday, and because of Dr. Martin Luther King’s sacrifices, I got to say home and catch up on my homework, since I took Sunday to work on me. But all of my sweat is a distant memory now. I guess that’s how Misty got her name, because she’s every bit as annoying as the morning mist in the air.

  Even though I made the effort to walk out of the back door this morning, as usual, I’m parked in front of the house, well within Esmeralda’s evil visual range. If I could immediately take off I would, but I have to sit here for a few more minutes while the car warms up. Rah said it’s about time for the car to have an oil change, the first one on my watch. My mom says while I’m driving her vehicle it’s my responsibility to keep up with the maintenance. I’m just glad she let me roll her ride until I get my own, since my daddy’s of no real help.

  I haven’t talked to my father since I left the raggedy car he bought me in his driveway without telling him. I’m sure he’s still pissed at me. I probably won’t hear from him until my birthday or the next holiday. I’m sure he’s feeling a little embarrassed that the gift he bought to show off at his family Christmas Eve dinner ended up broken down in his driveway the very next week. At least I left the keys in it so he could move it, if it even starts. If he had listened to me and had the car checked out properly, my first car would’ve made a great Christmas gift. But instead the bucket he bought from my driving instructor only added to my holiday hell.

  “Jayd, can a brotha get a ride to work? It’s cold out here. Open up,” Bryan says, knocking on the passenger’s window. I push the automatic door locks to let my favorite uncle in. With me getting up a half hour later because I don’t have to catch the bus, I
don’t always get to see him in the mornings; he’s usually gone by now. I know he misses our morning chats and so do I. If it weren’t for him and Jay, I wouldn’t have any male allies in our house, since the rest of my uncles are trifling. What did Mama do in a house full of men before I was born?

  “Drive me crazy,” my mom says while Bryan throws his backpack in the backseat and settles in. “She would call me every day when I lived with your daddy. And if I didn’t answer she’d have someone drop her off. I’m so glad I had you.”

  “What’s up with you, little J?” Bryan looks at my distant gaze and, like Rah, recognizes the dazed look on my face. “Oh, tell my big sis I said what’s up and that she needs to get a radio in this bitch.”

  “Tell that fool not to call my car out of her name,” my mom says, all up in the conversation. “Bye, baby. Have a good day.”

  “My mom said not to call her car a bitch,” I say, relaying the message. “Why are you late this morning?” I put the stick shift in first gear, ready to get on with my day. Miracle Market is in the opposite direction I usually drive to get to school, but it’s only around the corner. Besides, out of all six of my uncles, Bryan’s the only one who would do the same thing for me.

  “Man, me and Tarek were on a roll at the radio station last night for King Day. First, he deejayed during my show, and then I turned around and did the same shit for him. I didn’t get in until three o’clock this morning.” Bryan loves working at the public access radio station. He needs to see if he can turn it into a paid gig and quit his hustle at the market since music is his true love.

  “You’re going to run yourself ragged if you keep going like this.”

  “You’re one to talk, sleepwalking and scaring niggas and shit. By the way, how’s that going? If Mama took you to see Dr. Whitmore I know it must be serious. That dude is no joke.” All of Mama’s children have been seen at one time or another by our family doctor. None of the boys care for him too much and Dr. Whitmore doesn’t like them much either. I don’t know what that’s all about. It must be a man thing.

  “I slept okay again last night, but I wasn’t able to remember my dream again. Mama says not remembering my dreams isn’t as bad as sleepwalking, but it’s pretty close because that’s where my visual power lies.” I pull up in front of Miracle Market, ready to drop my uncle off and get a move on.

  “Whatever you do, try not to do that shit again. That scared me for real, Jayd. Brothas can’t take feeling out of control, and I felt helpless that night. Whatever they tell you to do to stop that, please do it. Don’t be your usual hard-headed self on this one. Peace,” Bryan says, exiting my mom’s little ride and walking around the back of the building to enter through the side door.

  When I turn the car around to head toward Redondo Beach, I notice Dr. Whitmore walking into his office next door to the small store. I never did call him to let him know how the pills were working. I guess I should continue taking them, but I’ll have to smash them down or something. I can’t see ingesting the huge pills on a daily basis, and two of them at that. I’ll work on it when I get home. Right now I have to focus on getting through my day at Drama High.

  Today’s the first day back for me since I missed two days of school last week because of my blinding sleepwalking episode. It’s also the first day back since we attended the memorial service for Tre. According to Rah, Nigel still isn’t talking to Mickey and he’s supposed to be coming back today as well. I can’t wait to see how that’s going to go down. He can only avoid Mickey for so long, even if she’s technically attending class off-campus now.

  I haven’t spoken to Mickey since she abruptly hung up on our conversation Sunday. And to tell the truth, I really don’t have too much to say to her. I don’t take too kindly to her mixing me and our friends up in her mess and then acting like a brat when the shit hit the fan. Mickey’s lucky I haven’t slapped her ass by now. But her luck is running out.

  By the time I arrive on campus there’s a line around the corner to get into the main parking lot, as usual. Rather than wait with the rest of the crowd, I decide to park on one of the residential streets near campus. I check the parking signs to make sure I won’t get a ticket. The last thing I need is to get cited on my mother’s car and have to hear her mouth about me being irresponsible with her vehicle. I’d never live that one down.

  As I exit the car I notice one of the neighbors eyeing me as she walks her small, fluffy dog down the block. She knows I don’t belong in her neighborhood. I wish I could ease her mind and inform her that I’m not here to steal her precious poodle, or her son if she has one, but I don’t want to be as rude as she’s being right now. Never letting go of her gaze on me, she bends down and picks up the fresh dog shit with a plastic bag. And she thinks I’m beneath her. As my grandfather would say, white folks have some serious issues. Why can’t they designate a spot in their yards for their dogs to shit, like we do for Lexi?

  Even with the rude-ass rich neighbors, I enjoy walking around Redondo Beach. It’s a beautiful neighborhood and you can see the ocean from almost every angle, including from where I’m standing now. I wish that I didn’t have to cross the street, but I must face my inevitable school day. Hopefully I can get through Spanish and English class without too much drama, especially since they are my quietest periods of the day. It’s a nice way to get the morning started. Because after my fist two classes it’s all downhill from there.

  It feels strange being in class this morning after all I’ve been through recently. Sometimes I drift off into my own thoughts while the teachers are talking, especially in my second period English class. We read this short story about a woman who thought the wallpaper in her bedroom was talking to her. Turns out she was severely depressed after having a baby. I didn’t have a baby, but I did have a dream about having one, and I can see how someone could lose their mind if the situation isn’t right.

  “Jayd,” Mickey says as I approach my locker to change out my books for my next two classes. The day is moving quickly and I’m glad for it. But with Mickey intruding on my nutrition break, I’m sure it’s about to get longer. The main hall is beginning to fill up with students and staff alike, giving the brisk Tuesday morning air a warm energy. School wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t come with so much bull, as I’m sure Mickey’s going to help shovel my way now. “We need to talk.”

  “Good morning to you too, Mickey,” I say with hella attitude. I hope she feels my energy because next to Misty and Nellie, Mickey’s the last person I want to see.

  “Look, Jayd, you’ve got to help me with Nigel. He won’t take my calls, answer my e-mails, my texts, nothing. What am I supposed to do?”

  “Well, you could’ve started by not lying to him and your man before all of this shit went down. I don’t think getting shot felt too good to Nigel,” I say, switching out my English and Spanish textbooks and folders and retrieving my materials for my government and debate classes. I can’t believe I have a class with Misty and the rest of her crew fourth period. At least there’s beautiful eye candy to look forward to seeing. I love knowing I’m going to be around Mr. Adewale every day.

  “Jayd, sometimes lying is a necessary evil. And I can’t go back in time and change anything. If I could, I would have done some things differently, but we still have to deal with the present, and I need Nigel in order to do that.” Mickey is as jaded as they come.

  “Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive,” I say to Mickey, but Sir Walter Scott’s words are way over her head.

  “Jayd, enough. I don’t have time for your philosophy on living right now. This is serious. There’s got to be something you can do to help me get my man back. We’re about to have a baby. We don’t have time for your strange sayings and shit.”

  “Oh, but you have time for me to supposedly cast a spell or something like that, right?” Mickey looks at me as if to say well, isn’t that what you do? I’m tempted to tell her off again, but she waddled her way up to the main campu
s to apologize to me and ask for my help, so I’ll give her some mercy, but not too much.

  “Jayd, please. You know Nigel better than anyone up here. I know you can be persuasive in your own way.” She’s right about that. I do know him better than anyone, and I’m glad she’s finally coming to that realization. And because I know him, I know when to put on the pressure and when to leave him be, like now.

  “Mickey, Nigel is really having a hard time with all that’s going on right now. He asked for space. Honor that,” I say to Mickey, who’s not hearing me, as usual.

  “We don’t have time for space, Jayd. I need him right here, right now.” Just as the words come out of her mouth, Misty’s there to catch them. It’s enough I have to deal with her at home and school, but having her in fourth period is just too much to bear.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be a little farther south of the lunch area these days?” Misty says to Mickey, who’s already overemotional as it is. Misty ignores me completely, and she’d better keep that behavior up if she knows what’s good for her. Mama says she and Esmeralda are still working their mischief and for me to stay as far away from her as possible, much to my delight. It’s not going to be easy to avoid her, with the broad in my face all of the time.

  “Misty, step,” Mickey says, and Misty takes the hint. I know Misty doesn’t want to push Mickey too far, no matter how bad she thinks she is.

  “If it’s magic you want, go ask Misty to help you, because we don’t work like that. Like I said before, I can help you better yourself and help Nigel do the same if he asks me to. But I can’t do any work for him without his permission—period. I have to get to class now, Mickey. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “If it’s not to help me, then don’t bother. Maybe I will ask Misty, since she seems to be on her game these days, unlike someone else I know.” I know Mickey didn’t just give Misty a compliment, even if it was a weak attempt to gain my sympathy. She’s really bugging if that’s the case.