Courtin' Jayd Read online

  “And what are you doing here?” I say to Rah, who hasn’t stopped looking at me since I sat down. He hasn’t picked up his hand yet either. From the way we’re seated, we’re forced to be partners. I hope he came with his A game because he knows I play to win.

  “I came to talk to you but I think your grandmother needs your help in the back. Here’s some dinner for you. I thought you might be hungry,” he says passing me the six-inch veggie and cheese sandwich with cheddar cheese and sour cream Ruffles in the bag. This is my favorite Subway meal and I love that he knows that. I can tell by the look in his eyes he’s mournful, but that won’t be enough to appease my hurt.

  “Thank you, I guess,” I say, not easing up a bit. I’m so mad at him I could spit. But before my rudeness can get the best of me, I hear Mama walking from the backhouse into the garage. She’s probably been waiting for me to get home so I can help her in the spirit room. I didn’t even get to change out of my school clothes before being summoned to work. And who knows how long the police will be here.

  “Jayd, you can talk to them later,” Mama says, entering the dimly lit room. I can tell by her voice she’s in no mood to bargain with me but it’s still worth a shot.

  “Mama can I eat first? I’m really hungry and I just sat down.” Bryan, Jay, and Rah look at me like I just signed my own death certificate. Before I can apologize, Mama walks across the garage floor to look me in the face. I know I’m in for it now.

  “We have work to do,” she says sternly, eyeing each of us before walking out the back door toward the spirit room. I guess me grilling Rah will have to wait until later if I want to live long enough to do it.

  “Damn Jayd, you’ve got some big balls for someone so little,” Bryan says, making us all laugh. They wouldn’t dare question Mama and usually neither would I. I really want to eat and vibe with Rah but Mama’s work always comes first.

  “That’s what makes her a queen,” Rah says, passing me my bottled water. “I want to talk to you about this week,” he says, rising to walk me out. Even when we’re seated I feel like a midget next to him.

  “So talk,” I say, getting up from my seat before putting the food into my backpack and walking out the back door. Bryan and Jay look at Rah as if to say “I’d hate to be you right now” and they’re on point with their feelings. There’s no way I’m letting Rah slide on this one. “I’ve been calling you all week. Did you get my messages or is your phone broken?”

  “Jayd, come on. I hate it when you’re mad at me,” he says, taking my hand and spinning me around to face him. He smells so sweet and fresh. I want to hug him and fall into his arms, but I can’t. Not yet. “Listen to me.”

  “Listen to you say what, Rah?” I snatch my hand away from him and cross my arms around my chest. I have to get to the spirit room; I’ve kept Mama waiting long enough but I need to wrap this conversation up real quick.

  “Jayd, just give me a chance to explain.” Rah puts his hand on my shoulder and I almost give in—almost.

  “Why should I when you can’t keep your word to me? It’s okay for you to shut me out of your life when it’s convenient and then come waltzing back into mine when you’re ready?” I pause to let him respond but he’s too shell-shocked to say anything so I’ll have to answer for him. “Hell no, Rah, it’s not okay with me and my feelings aren’t a faucet I can turn on and off at your command.”

  Mama comes back out of the spirit room to empty a bucket of water into the adjacent garden and to call for me again. Noticing Rah and me in a heated conversation, she gives me a look letting me know I need to wrap it up, and soon.

  “Jayd, I know I messed up. But you know how Sandy is and with Trish getting hurt fighting her I guess I just didn’t want you to be next.” His eyes say sorry but his logic is still way off.

  “Next? Don’t you mean first?” I say, reminding him that I’ve already been through hell and back with him over Sandy’s crazy ass. “You’re treating me like I’m sitting on the sidelines watching the show, but I’m not. I’m right in the middle of your tired-ass game and I’m sick of playing with you.”

  “Jayd, wait,” Rah says, pulling me back, but I’m done talking for now. “It’s not like that. You know you mean everything to me. Can we just talk about this, please?”

  “Everything? If I mean so much then why did I have to find out what’s going on in your life from Nigel?” Silencing him for the time being, I walk toward the backhouse ready to clear my head and help Mama clear hers. Rah knows better than to come back here without my or Mama’s permission. Unless invited by one of the Williams women, the spirit room is no-man’s-land and they all know it.

  When I finally reach the backhouse, Lexi’s in her usual spot resting across the threshold, effortlessly ushering me into Mama’s therapeutic fortress. The entire space isn’t much bigger than our living room but is packed with a lot more stuff. All of Mama’s spirit tools are neatly organized, which makes it cozy and warm in here. The same scent of night-blooming jasmine and honeysuckle that’s ever present in Netta’s shop lingers in this small room as well. The warm air and sweet smells instantly calm my nerves, causing me to momentarily forget about Rah and my hungry stomach. All I want to do is be in here and help Mama work. As soon as Mama looks at me, I remember questioning her in front of the boys and feel instantly ashamed.

  “You can eat first if you need to,” Mama says from her station at the sink. She runs the cold water across her hands and stares at me for a few moments before looking away. She’s sorry too and I feel her pain. Her sons have hurt her yet again and her one female ally in a house full of men would rather hang with the boys instead of doing the women’s work required to heal the household.

  “No thank you. I’m good,” I say, closing the screen door behind me. I can hear the garage door shut and then the back gate. Rah has left for the evening, leaving me to my work with Mama. She’s already lit the candles, giving a golden hue to the already yellow walls. My normal spot at the table is already taken by Mama’s many tools. This is my safety zone from the crazy world outside.

  Before I can get in the room good, my phone vibrates. When I flip it open, Rah’s name appears on the screen. Now what?

  “Peace, Jayd. We’re not done talking. See you tomorrow after school. I love you, girl.”

  Why do I keep letting him back in after he hurts me? Maybe it’s because I know it’s not intentional, but that’s still no excuse. Rah should know better by now than to leave me hanging. And if he really loves me then he should respect my feelings, not just do what he thinks is right. I fold up the phone and slip it into my purse, ready to give Mama my un divided attention.

  “Why do we deal with men?” I ask Mama as she dries her hands on a yellow kitchen towel before passing me fresh white clothes to put on. I’m not sure exactly what we’re working on today, but from the looks of the ingredients spread across the kitchen table, it must be heavy.

  “The better question is why do we allow them to deal with us?” Mama says as she chops up several bunches of fresh spinach from the garden. She also has a bowl of boiled eggs, cinnamon sticks, a grater and other dishes, scallops, fresh shrimp and fish on ice, five jars of honey, and a large machete with a big bottle of palm oil next to it.

  “I feel you, Mama,” I say, putting my backpack and purse on the shelf closest to the door.

  “You see how your uncles act and yet they each have women running after them like they’re God’s gift to the universe.” Mama’s on point with that one. Each of my uncles except for Bryan and Junior have baby mamas that would fight over them in a minute, and I don’t why. I’ll be damned if I’m going to fight over a dude who’s still living with his mama in his thirties or even twenties, for real. “Those trifling-ass fools were in my house fighting over whose turn it was to use the iron. Now mind you, it’s my iron but like a bunch of toddlers, they decided to claim it and throw a tantrum when someone else wanted to use it.”

  “Mama, easy on the spinach,” I say, hanging my shi
rt and jeans over the top of the white bamboo Chinese screen before opening it and joining Mama at the kitchen table. She’s diced the spinach up so finely, it’s almost liquid. “Did anyone get hurt?”

  “Yes,” Mama says, passing me the cinnamon sticks and the grater. Why do I always have to do the menial task? “As usual, your Uncle Junior got his ass kicked.” Being the smallest of the lot, Junior always loses against any of my other uncles but he never presses charges. I don’t even know why they bother calling the police.

  “He looked okay when I saw him talking to the police,” I say, grating the cinnamon into a glass bowl. It smells so good and refreshing. I swear, doing the work is half the healing process for me.

  “You should have seen him a few hours ago. I think he may have broken a tooth and he doesn’t have any insurance or money to get it fixed. At first I thought he broke his nose but the paramedics said it’s okay.”

  “The paramedics?” Maybe Jay was right about the blood on the carpet. It wouldn’t be the first time. We really should have hardwood floors, especially in the den, where they all sleep. It’s so disgusting back there I never go in there unless Mama sends me to get something, like the iron. I’m glad everyone has cell phones now because it used to be a regular trip to go back there to get the phone. Now I don’t know what it looks or smells like in the den and it’s much better for me if it stays that way.

  “Yes, child. Your Daddy had to call 911 to get those boys to stop fighting and by the time he did, Junior was already bleeding all over the place. Even if I’m not the one they hit, I feel like I’m the one being beaten and I’m tired of it.” Mama places the spinach into an oversize wooden bowl and begins to peel the eggs from their shells. I feel sorry for whoever’s on her bad side right now because Mama’s hotter than usual.

  “I’m sorry, Mama.” I never know what to say in these situations to make her feel better. I wish I could take her out of our house and move her into a space of her own. She deserves to be at peace and free from the negativity surrounding this house.

  “Jayd, it’s not your fault. And running from the problem won’t do any good.” How did she know what I was thinking? Mama looks up at me and winks, forcing both of us to smile. “You forget I brought you into this world in more ways than one. I may not be able to read your thoughts like your mother can, but I can still read you, little girl.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say, grating the last of the cinnamon while Mama places the eggs around a brilliant brass and white porcelain serving plate before generously coating them with honey. She then takes the spinach, shrimp, scallops, and fish and places them in the center of the dish and sprinkles everything with the fresh cinnamon and more honey. This dish must be for our spiritual mother, Oshune.

  “So what else is going in your world besides you and Rah fighting?” she says, cleaning up the mess we’ve made and directing me to do the same. I’m not sure where to begin. There’s so much going on between my friends and as always I feel caught in the middle.

  “Well, Mickey’s pregnant,” I say, only slightly shocking Mama. She knows Mickey and Nigel have been seeing each other for a while and that Mickey has a boyfriend. “To top it off, she doesn’t know who the daddy is and has decided by default that it will be Nigel.” Mama looks at me and then down at her loyal German shepherd Lexi who’s up and ready to follow us out of the door.

  “Jayd, I’ve heard enough. You and your friends are always in some mess. I thought y’all were smarter than that and I know you are because I raised you better than that,” she says, putting her hands on her hips and pointing her long fingernail at me like I’m the one bringing home the baby.

  “Why are you mad at me? I didn’t do anything,” I say, tossing the last of the eggshells into the trash can. Mama cleans the table with a wet rag and Pine Sol while I get the broom and sweep the floor. The strong smell of the seafood and egg platter only slightly permeates the thick, fragrant air. It’s about nine o’clock, which means I only have another two hours to get my homework done and my outfit picked out for tomorrow if I want to get to bed on time.

  “Exactly my point. You didn’t do anything at all to help your friends but went out of your way to help your enemy,” she says, referring to Misty as she rinses the worn dishrag in the sink. I look at Lexi, who’s eyeing me as if to say, “Don’t look at me. You know she’s telling the truth.” A sistah can’t get any love around here.

  “Mama, that was different. Misty and her mother were about to be put out of their home. I was just trying to help.” I should’ve known better than to make a gris-gris for Misty and after the way she called me out at school, I’ve learned my lesson.

  “Well, maybe if you had put more energy into helping two of your best friends it would have worked out for everyone.” Mama can be a cold sistah when she wants to. “Learn your lesson this time around, Jayd. We don’t want to have to go here again.”

  “She’s right, Jayd. You can’t save the world, but you can help the people closest to you,” my mom intervenes. I still can’t believe I’m getting lectured for my friend’s pregnancy. What the hell?

  “Oh Jayd, there’s always something going on in your world, my little fire child,” Mama says, placing the heavy dish in the center of the table and eyeing her magnificent creation. It is a pretty offering. “Ask for protection from other people’s problems when we present the sacrifice to the shrine. You’re going to need it now more than ever before.” She then takes the machete and palm oil sitting behind the door and leads me out of the spirit room. “It’s time to go back inside. I’m sure everything’s calmed down and the cops are gone.” Mama doesn’t deal with cops any more than she has to. “Please cover the plate with a paper towel and bring in Oshune’s offering.”

  As we walk across the backyard toward the main house, I notice Esmeralda’s profile in the window across the yard. Just the thought of her being in close proximity to us gives me chills.

  “Did you know there are people who are jealous of babies born with cauls? They get hated on for no reason, as you would put it,” Mama says, carefully holding the huge knife as she walks past the garage, headed for the backdoor. “They would do anything for the blessing you and others like you were born with.” Others like me? She’s never put it quite like that before. I know there are stories of other gifted people born with the veil at birth but I’ve never met another one that I knew of. We should have a support group or something for all the drama we have to put up with on a regular basis.

  “How do I protect myself from the haters? Can you make me a permanent charm or gris-gris or something?” I ask, making Mama laugh. Her mood always improves when she gives offerings to the shrine.

  “All protection starts by feeding your Orisha and asking Legba to cool the road for your success. That’s why we’re feeding Ogun and Oshune tonight. We want their blessings and protection in this crazy house and from our crazy neighbor. You can start working on your own charm after we’re done.” Damn, I asked for more work so I really can’t say anything about this one. But something must’ve gone down that I don’t know about to make her give me an assignment like that.

  “Did something else happen?” Mama looks at me and the plate of food in my hands. It looks like she doesn’t want to tell me but has no choice now that I’ve asked. Mama’s excellent at evading the truth when necessary, but she’s a horrible liar.

  “Misty’s mother was over there today and I saw Misty go in a little while before you came in. They’re up to something and I’m pretty sure it has to do with you.”

  “What are we going to do?” I know Misty isn’t happy about me interfering with her problems and that she will retaliate but I don’t know how. Whatever she’s up to must be serious to have Mama worried about it.

  “We’ll act when the time is right. But for now we will just watch and see. Keep your eyes and ears wide open, Jayd.” Mama climbs the three steps up the back porch, finally reaching the door. Before entering the kitchen, she peeks in through the window to
make sure the coast is clear. Everything appears to be quiet inside for the time being.

  “But the longer I wait the more time she’ll have to implement her revenge,” I say, following Mama into the house. As we walk through the living room I notice the red speckles across the faded blue carpet. I look up and focus on the back of Mama’s head where her cornrows are intact, taking my mind off the bloodshed in here just a few hours ago. Mama opens her bedroom door and the candlelight guides us to the altar, where we are ready to let go of our problems.

  “Sometimes the ones on the outside looking in have a greater advantage than those right in the middle of the madness.” Mama’s right. I have to look at the entire view and not just do what I want to, especially in this situation with Misty and Esmeralda. Whatever Misty’s planning must be good if she hasn’t let it slip at school. For the next few days I’ll take Mama’s advice and get to work on protecting myself from the guaranteed ricochet of Misty’s actions. I don’t want to accidentally get hit by her fire.

  6

  The Rebound

  “You kept on thinking that you were the only one/ You were too busy thinking that love is a gun.”

  —SADE

  After Mama and I finished our ritual last night, I did my homework and went straight to bed. I ran late this morning because I didn’t pick out my clothes before I went to bed last night like I usually do. When my morning doesn’t start out right, my whole day’s messed up and today is no exception to the rule.

  Rah and I didn’t have a chance to finish our talk about Sandy and Trish or more importantly, about us. He texted me late last night saying he would pick me up from school today and give me a ride to my mom’s house, like nothing’s happened at all this week, but I can’t let this one slide. If we’re going to have an honest friendship, he’s going to have to treat me with the same respect he does Nigel. Otherwise we’re wasting our time pretending to rebuild something we never had to begin with.