Street Soldiers Read online

  “That is love, fool or has it been too long since you’ve experienced a healthy relationship to know the difference?”

  Nigel smirks knowing I’m talking about more than the volatile relationship he has with our coaches at South Bay High. When Nigel left Westingle to attend South Bay it was a bittersweet decision made mostly by his father, who wanted him to play for the best team in the region—not the second or third. It was a smart move overall but Nigel misses his old school. Rah keeps him in the loop about everything going on, but it’s not the same thing.

  “Jayd, do I detect a little haterism?” Chase says, tickling my side and hitting my irksome spot like only my play brother can.

  “Chase, are you his manager now?” I ask, smacking him in the arm.

  “I’m his boy, Jayd. And because I’m his boy I’ve got to look out for my boy’s best interest, you feel me?”

  I think Chase actually believes his own bull.

  “Does that include him making all of the wrong decisions?” I say, flicking the watch with my finger. If I could throw it in the trashcan to prove my point I would.

  “Jayd, you worry too much, baby. Chill with all that negativity. You’re bringing a bad aura into the room.” Chase takes the sign-in sheet and passes it to Nigel who’s busy setting his watch.

  “What time is it in China?” Nigel asks, playing with the fancy gold dials. “This watch has three time zone settings. I want to set them all.”

  “You’re too damned silly for me.” I can’t help but laugh at Nigel’s enthusiasm. Last week he got a pair of the new Jordan’s before they hit the stores. I guess all of the attention is to be expected with a top athlete like Nigel.

  No matter how foul the source, Nigel deserves a little lightness in his life after everything he’s been through lately, courtesy of Mickey. Speaking in baby-mama drama, Mickey walks into the classroom with her lunch in hand. I’m glad she showed up to the meeting but not for the attitude she’s about to bring.

  “I see Christmas came early for someone,” Mickey says, eyeing the expensive watch before greeting anyone in the room. Damn, this girl can spot bling faster than Queen Califia. Maybe Nickey’s gift of sight as a caul child’s rubbed off on her mother.

  “How’s my daughter?” Nigel asks, signing the sheet and passing it to his estranged baby-mama.

  “Nickey’s fine,” Mickey says, setting the food down on an empty desk. “By the way, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to see my daughter anymore. I mean, you don’t want to be with her mama so you shouldn’t be with her, either,” Mickey says, signing the paper and passing it to Chase who’s as shocked as the rest of us.

  “Mickey, what the hell are you talking about?” Nigel asks. “No matter what happens between you and me Nickey will always be my daughter. Check the birth certificate if you don’t remember.” My boy’s vessels are about to pop. Mickey’s playing dirty by using Nickey as a pawn to get back at Nigel when this shit’s all her fault.

  “Well, that can be easily rectified. We can take a blood test down to the county courthouse and change the name if you want to pay for it.” Nigel looks like he wants to go Ike and Etta Mae Turner on Mickey. I’ve never known him to hit a chick but even the most levelheaded brothers can slip up when pushed too far.

  There’s such a thin line between love and hate and Mickey has crossed it. My girl doesn’t know the full extent of Nigel’s wrath like I do. When he gets pissed, much like Rah, Nigel sees red. He’s fallen in love with Nickey, even giving her his last name when he really didn’t have to. There’s no limit to what he’ll do to protect his daughter, damn a blood test.

  “Nickey is my daughter, Mickey. Hell, I’m a better parent then you’ll ever be,” Nigel says, rising from his desk. Chase stands next to him for support. He’ll also intervene if necessary.

  “Well, if you want to be the daddy then we’ll have to see you act like it. You can start by giving me that watch on your arm,” Mickey says, holding out her hand like Sandy does to Rah. “Nickey needs some new diapers and clothes,” The fact that Mickey’s now reminding me of my former-best friend-turned-arch enemy is not a good look.

  “I’m not giving you shit, Mickey,” Nigel says, too calm for my taste. “But I’ll happily take Nickey to get whatever she needs.” Oh Lord, this isn’t good.

  “Mickey, stop playing. You know that baby loves her daddy,” Chase says, trying to lighten the mood but he’s never been in the middle of black folk’s custody battles. This is about to get real ugly, real fast if they don’t stop this train wreck from happening.

  “Like I said, when he wants to act like a daddy I’ll let him be one. Until then, I’m a single mama,” Mickey says, dipping a French fry in ketchup.

  “Let me?” Nigel says, rising to his feet. He takes Mickey’s lunch from the desk and dumps it in the trash next to Mr. Adewale’s desk. “No one let’s me do a damned thing.”

  “What the hell did you do that for?” Mickey screams, making us all jump. “You’re going to pay for that.”

  “I have a feeling I already am,” Nigel says, unsympathetically.

  Chase looks at me and I shake my head knowing this is only the beginning of the storm to come.

  “I don’t know what’s going on but you two need to take it outside,” Mr. Adewale says from the doorway. “We’re about to start the meeting.”

  Nigel respects our only black, male teacher and knows Mr. A is a part of my spiritual family.

  Mickey and Nigel glare at each other and do as they are told. I’ll catch up with them after the meeting. Hopefully by then they would’ve calmed down.

  “Good afternoon every one,” Mr. Adewale says stepping into the room with a plate of spaghetti. “Mrs. Bennett can’t make it this afternoon so let’s get started with the nominations. Madame president, please call the meeting to order.”

  I follow protocol and begin the meeting, nominating Maggie for the Homecoming ballot. She and her crew have been consistently supportive of the club even before they were members. Maggie will make a flyy and historic Homecoming Queen, giving the Associated Student Body nominee and all of the other clubs a good race. I’m done playing games with my enemies. It’s all about winning from here on out.

  Maybe if someone fought over Pam we wouldn’t be celebrating her homegoing in two days. This weekend is going to be emotional enough without having to deal with Mickey and Nigel’s latest episode. If they’d gotten to know each other better in the beginning instead of acting off of their initial physical attraction, then we wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with. I agree that they shouldn’t be together—at least not at the moment—but they need to focus on what’s best for their daughter. Life’s too short to sweat the unavoidable bull.

  “Deciding when to hold on and when to let go is the wisest wisdom you’ll master along the way.”

  -Netta

  Drama High, volume 14: So, So Hood

  * * *

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: AT LAST

  “The gold didn’t find itself. And I don’t care what your history book says, it wasn’t Cortes’ ass either,” Califia says, putting her mahogany hands into the rocks and sea shells at the ocean’s shore. After sifting for a few moments, she lifts up a handful of precious stones. “He couldn’t see a ten carat nugget if it dropped on his head from the clear-blue sky. He used me as his seer, much like Esmeralda uses other people and animals’ sight for her own benefit. No good can ever come from sight thieving for too long.”

  “Tell that to Misty and Esmeralda,” I say. Even in my dreams they’re on my mind.

  “Look closer, Jayd. There’s always more than meets the eye.” Califia’s large form bends backwards into the tide and becomes one with the ocean. Her long dreadlocks mesh with the sea foam revealing the whales, sharks and various other sea life present just beneath the liquid surface. Her back cascades over the waves before they both break against the shore where my feet are planted.

  “Nothing in this life is ever one-dimensional. You’re attemp
ting to beat Esmeralda by thinking like a Williams’ woman rather than thinking like your enemy. See with Esmeralda’s sight and her weaknesses will be revealed.”

  Focusing on the deep blue ocean in front of me I get caught up in the nearly invisible seaweed moving toward the water. My first instinct is to scream but I stay silent and let the tide swallow me whole.

  “Relax into the vision, Little Jayd. Let your mind’s eye see what you cannot.”

  Califia again slips into the mist, freely moving from one form to the next. One minute she’s her young self, the next she’s an old lady. Her dreadlocks even morph into tentacles from the octopus we saw a few moments ago.

  “Focus on the rhythm of the water, Jayd,” my great ancestor says, playing in the water. “Can you hear the drumbeat?”

  I can and it’s putting me into a trance. My mind is focused intently on Esmeralda and her growing army of shape shifters. I can see Pam in front of me as if she were still alive. Instead of being her drug addicted self, I see her as the healthy, gorgeous young woman on the ceremony programs she once was.

  “What you see is the true Pam before drugs infected her body. Her soul remains the same. Turn your attention to the living dead, as we call them. Even Misty and Emilio’s souls are not completely lost, they’re just misplaced. See if you can locate the real them.”

  Being that my great ancestor hasn’t met the unwanted members of my crew I don’t know if I’d agree with her. She can see way more than I can so I will try and follow her directions even if it’s against my gut feeling.

  I gaze into the ocean looking at all the sea creatures, taking in the complexities of them all. It becomes clear to me that I am no longer the only one checking things out. They’re also looking at me; I can now see their souls clearly.

  “They’re sentient beings with their own inner voices and destinies, just like us,” I say, amazed by their inner voices. “Esmeralda’s mastered the art of speaking to their souls.”

  “Exactly, Little Jayd,” Califia says, her face now one with the water around us. “So, if the animals have souls, and your friends shift into their bodies, then the exchange must be mutual, no?”

  “Oh my God, I never thought about it like that,” I say, the truth becoming more apparent. “Free the animal, free the soul.”

  Why didn’t I think of that before?

  “Because your mind wasn’t calm enough to see the truth,” Califia says, answering my thought. “Now, go take care of business.”

  *

  My powerful dream got my morning started off on the right track. Six clients later I finally took some time out to tend to my own hair. I’ve been sporting the slicked-back wet look for the past couple of days and my crown was in desperate need of a deep conditioning. Because we’ll be in all white from head to toe for the ceremony, it wasn’t necessary to flat iron and set it. But I didn’t want to wait until the last minute to get ready for my school week. Tomorrow is Pam’s service and Keenan will be here soon to pick me up for our date.

  My mom left me a note on the bathroom mirror reminding me to clean up after my clients and to check the utility bills on the dining room table. I can’t even take the silver clips out of my hair without stressing about something. Hopefully spending time with Keenan will help me forget about mi vida loca, at least for the rest of the evening.

  My cell phone buzzes loudly on the bathroom counter. Keenan must be calling to tell me he’s on his way.

  “Hello,” I say, admiring my wild blown-out hair in the bathroom mirror. I wish I were bold enough to rock the natural style. It feels good.

  “Jayd, I’m a little early. I hope that’s okay,” Keenan says.

  I run to the front door and look out of the peephole. There he is in all of his sexiness.

  “You’ve got to be joking,” I say, opening the door.

  “I love your hair,” Keenan says, kissing my left cheek. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  “Keenan, I’m not ready. I wasn’t expecting you for another half-hour, if you can’t tell,” I say, waving my hand at my cut off jean shorts, white t-shirt and poofy hair.

  “You need to learn how to go with the ebb and flow of the universe,” Keenan says, his words reminding me of last night’s dream.

  “Was that supposed to be a clever way of telling me that I need to chill?” I say, smiling at his cute self but not moving. I have a precious window between blow drying and flat ironing before it’s a wrap. I’m not comfortable doing my hair around Keenan—not yet.

  “It means that change is constant. If you embrace it you’ll experience what true freedom’s all about,” he says, revealing a small picnic basket from behind his back. “Come on, let me show you something.”

  Keenan takes me by the hand and leads me to the dining room table. I shut the door behind us and look toward the bathroom where my ceramic flat iron’s waiting for me to return.

  “For the lady,” Keenan says, opening the basket and revealing a blanket, plenty of food and dessert. “I told you it’s special night.”

  “Oh, Keenan. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’re hungry because I sure am.” He takes out the blanket and spreads it across the table.

  “Is that Ethiopian food?” I ask, peeking inside the Styrofoam containers. My stomach growls in anticipation of the tasty meal. He sure does know how to make me smile.

  “This is nothing,” Keenan says, taking place settings out of the sides of the quaint basket. “I can make you the best French toast you’ve ever tasted in the morning.”

  I don’t need special sight to see that he wants to pick up where we left off last weekend. Part of me does, too but I’m not ready to free up that much.

  “As wonderful as your offer is, I have to be up early in the morning to help my grandparents. We’re having a going home ceremony for our murdered neighbor, Pam.” I feel bad that we’ve yet to vindicate her untimely death, but something has to be done to honor her life. Mama says it’s time to let her soul cross completely over to the ancestor world. Even Daddy agrees that it’s time to give Pam and the community some closure. We’ll never stop searching for the truth behind her death.

  “Would you like for me to come with you?” Keenan asks. He sets the appetizers on the table and makes himself comfortable. I never even thought of inviting him to the ceremony.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I say, dipping a miniature carrot into the hummus. This is some good food. I never knew Trader Joe’s was like this. I’ll have to make it a point to shop there more often.

  “I want to. Let me be there for you, Jayd,” Keenan says, opening the next dish. “There’s so much I don’t know about you. I want to learn more if you let me.”

  Keenan is the sweetest brother. It’s time I stopped running from him when it’s obvious there’s more going on between us than a casual fling.

  “I’d like that,” I say, allowing Keenan to kiss my lips. “I’d also like to finish my hair before we eat if that’s okay.”

  Keenan pulls away and smiles. “I’m not going anywhere, and neither is the food.”

  Ready or not, Keenan coming to a neighborhood gathering will introduce him into my circle once and for all.

  “Good to hear,” I say, taking one more bite before heading to the bathroom. It’ll be nice having a new friend to kick it with. I just hope everyone else agrees.

  *

  We got an early start this morning, piling Netta’s truck full of baskets, white cloths, candles and other necessary items for Pam’s day. It’s going to a beautiful event. Even the weather’s participating. I decided to wear a white sundress but realized my tattoo would show. I can’t have that kind of attention on me. Mama doesn’t even know about my new ink yet and I don’t want her to find out about it today. The only problem is that I don’t have a white long-sleeve sweater but Mickey does. She should be here any moment.

  “Mickey, why aren’t you dressed for the ceremony? I ask. “Mama requested that all participants where s
omething white to honor Pam’s spirit.”

  “I decided not to go but I wanted to give you these to take,” Mickey says, handing me a bouquet of white carnations along with the sweater.

  “I’ll let Mama know these came from you,” I say, taking the flowers and setting them down on the dining room table. “What’s up, Mickey?” Something else is obviously on my girl’s mind but I don’t have much time to catch up with her. Daddy will be back from church any minute to change for the service and Mama and Netta are in the spirit room gathering the last of the materials we’ll need at the beach.

  “Jayd, I’m going to do the right thing and say that G was with me the night of Pam’s murder. I’m telling the police first thing in the morning.” Mickey looks like she wants to cry but the gangsta girl won’t let her true feelings show. “I know this will mean the end of me and Nigel for good.”

  “The right thing?” I don’t mean to yell in my whites but I can’t help it. “How in the hell is doing the wrong thing ever right?”

  “Right and wrong are relative in the real world, Jayd. Besides, G’s always been there for me and Nickey, even when he didn’t have to be,” Mickey says, romanticizing the situation. “That’s the way Nigel needs to learn how to roll. I can’t take his bougie ways anymore. He’s so damned judgmental it’s sickening.”

  “Mickey, never mind how you feel for a change. Think about your daughter,” I say, attempting to reason with her irrational ass. “You can’t lie to the cops. If they find out you could wind up in jail yourself and where will that leave Nickey?” Mickey appears to soften but not for long.

  “I can’t let G go down for a crime he didn’t commit. You don’t know him like I do,” Mickey says, stating the obvious. “No matter what others may think of him he’s been good to me.”

  “Mickey, do you want to go to jail, too? Seriously Mickey, think about what you’re about to do before you do it for a change,” I say. “This isn’t a joke nor is it the time to prove how ride or die you are for your ex boo.”

  I look past Mickey and down at my goddaughter who’s sound asleep in her stroller at the bottom of the porch steps. Why wouldn’t she sleep well when I’m around—Nickey Shantae knows I’ve got her back even when her mama acts like a damned fool.