Pushin' Page 9

  “Ouch!” I exclaim, falling to the hard floor. “You bitch,” I say, attempting to jump to my feet, but my skinned knee stops me from choking Misty, who’s visibly pleased with her work. She’s going to pay for this.

  “Jayd, are you okay?” Nellie asks, feigning interest. I know she wants to laugh, but wants to keep from getting pimp slapped by me more.

  “I’m fine,” I say, glaring at Misty as I limp back toward the girl’s locker room where Alicia, Shauna, and the rest of the cheer squad are busy prepping. The entire purpose of trying out is to better my chances at getting into college. Fighting with Misty won’t help my ultimate goal. Maybe that’s why Misty’s really here: to test me. If that’s the case, I sure as hell can’t let her win.

  “Jayd, you’re bleeding,” Alicia says, rushing toward me. “How’d you do that?” Alicia helps me to a bench and signals for Shauna to get the first aid kit.

  “A big, fat foot came out of nowhere and tripped me, but I’m okay.” I take the Band-Aid and alcohol pad from Shauna and clean myself up, trying to keep a cool head.

  “I’ve noticed you’ve got some girls jealous of you already,” Shauna says, looking out of the locker room toward Misty and Nellie. “It’s all a part of it, Jayd. But don’t worry, you’ll fix them good at tryouts next week.” Shauna’s right. I’ll shut them both up once I get the routines down. Until then, I’ll just have to deal with the backstabbing heffas and get my job done—skinned knees, bad dreams, and all.

  After a grueling cheer practice, I made my way to Compton, ready to work and forget about Nellie, Misty, and Laura, but there’s no chance of that happening. Wearing my dance shorts inside the beauty shop where Mama and Netta could see the big patch covering my knee was my first mistake. Telling Mama about my day—starting with my crazy dream right down to Misty making me fall—was the second.

  Mama used the opportunity to say “I told you so” to her advantage, in more ways than one. She and Netta got to nurse my knee back to near-perfect health, scold me for not wearing my bracelets again, and give me another assignment to be completed immediately. I have to make a potion to protect me against my enemies, which isn’t a bad thing. With the girls at South Bay High—also known as Drama High, and for good reason—I need all the help I can get. I also have to pray five times a day and always wear my jade bracelets until further notice. It’s been a long day, making me grateful for the setting sun causing orange and red hues to scatter along the yellow wall in the small kitchen. I love being in the backhouse in the evening. Jeremy’s not coming over to my mom’s place until later tonight, giving me time to take a much-needed nap after I finish my spirit work.

  Mama’s trust in my driving skills has grown, but she’d still rather walk home from the beauty shop than ride as my regular passenger. She said to meet her here so she can check my work and provide the final blessing, but that was over an hour ago and a sistah’s hungry. There’s nothing back here to eat so I’ll have to raid the house kitchen.

  I step over a sleeping Lexi at the threshold and close the door behind me. Walking through the backyard I notice Misty across the way in Esmeralda’s kitchen, probably doing something very similar to what I’m doing. It’s strange how Misty and I can be so much alike at home but sworn enemies at school.

  “Where’d you come from?” Bryan asks as I open the back door, stepping into the kitchen. It looks like he just got home from working at Miracle Market up the street. I’m just in time to mooch some dinner off my favorite uncle.

  “I was in the back working on my mind. I need to get focused,” I say, not boring Bryan with details he’s not interested in. Mama gave me an early afternoon to get some work done and I appreciate the rare gift. It seems like the next test she and Netta are giving me is a big one. The subject matter is all about self-control and self-preservation, both of which are essential components of true progress of any kind. And I need to sharpen my saw in more ways than one.

  “What, you think you’re a Jedi warrior or some shit now?” Bryan asks, pretending the spatula is a lifesaver. He’s making his specialty: home fries and a turkey burger. Maybe if I ask really sweet he’ll hook his favorite niece up with some dinner.

  “Yeah, I guess so, and that makes you Yoda, except you’re not that wise; just old, short, and shriveled,” I say, snatching the wooden spatula from Bryan and tossing it in the sink. Even he has to laugh at that one. I miss being in the kitchen with my favorite uncle. I even miss my cousin, Jay, who’s busy bringing in the rest of the groceries. Daddy must’ve had a busy morning to do the grocery shopping in the afternoon. He’s usually up and out right after I leave for school, knocking out his main daily chore before he’s gone for the day. What a preacher does at church every day, all day, is still a mystery to me, but that’s my grandfather’s life and his business.

  “Can I be Darth Vader?” Jay asks, coming in all late on the conversation and placing the plastic bags on the kitchen table. We all used to have a ball role-playing back in the day. I wish life were still that simple.

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” Bryan says, reclaiming the spatula and smacking Jay on the head. Jay picks up a kitchen towel and returns the hit while I look through the bags for something to snack on. There’s got to be some Ritz crackers in here or something.

  “Hey, Tweet,” Daddy says, bringing in the last of the groceries before heading back to church. I take the two bags from my grandfather and place them with the others.

  “Hey, Daddy,” I say, kissing him on the cheek and continuing my hunt. He looks at me feverishly searching through the bags and laughs. I don’t see what’s funny. I’m serious about my hunger.

  “Here’s some gas money or you can use it for food, little birdie,” he says, kissing the top of my head and passing me twenty dollars.

  “Thank you, Daddy. It’ll go to good use,” I say, folding the bill and tucking it securely in my jean pocket. That will fill up my tank for the rest of the week. He’s such a good grandpa. I just wish he were a better husband to Mama, but that’s not my business, either.

  “You’re welcome, baby. And tell your Mama and Karl I said hi,” Daddy says, stepping out of the back door. “Bryan and Jay, get in here and put up these groceries. Jayd don’t live here, but you two do and have to earn your keep, you hear?” Daddy yells at my cousin and uncle, who are now in the living room wrestling. Daddy winks at me before closing the door. We both know that even if I don’t sleep here every night, this will always be my home. I turn off the stove, noticing my uncle’s fries are done. Even with the kitchen in its naturally disheveled state, I miss cooking with my folks. I take the strainer out of the cluttered dish rack, line it with paper towels and reclaim the spatula for its proper use.

  “Give up, boy, before you get hurt,” Bryan says to Jay, pinned on the living room floor. They’re like lion cubs in the jungle, I swear. While removing the fried potatoes from the skillet and placing them in the strainer to drain, I can’t help but snack on a few. They taste as good as they smell and are perfectly seasoned, as always.

  Mama made sure the youngest of us were in the kitchen learning from the boss herself. The eldest of her children don’t have the same knack for throwing down on the regular because Mama was too busy in the church and apparently pledging sororities and whatnot when she was younger. I can’t wait to grill her about her school days when she finally gets home.

  “Thanks,” Bryan says, rescuing his fries before I can eat them all. “By the way, I ran into Rah the other day. He says to tell you hi.” My uncle leans up against the kitchen counter, devouring his dinner and making me jealous.

  “Who cares?” I ask, resuming my search for food. I luck up on a box of graham crackers and dig in. These should hold me until dinner.

  “I care,” Bryan says, damn near finished already. “It’s causing him to be off his basketball game and that means money for the team. This shit has got the boy off his hustle, Jayd, and that’s not good for anyone. This is street ball, not school yard pl
aying.”

  “You make it sound like it’s my fault,” I say, walking in front of him to the refrigerator. I need some milk to make this meal complete, and less unwarranted guilt from my uncle to make it more pleasant.

  “He’s trying to be a good daddy, Jayd. Cut him some slack and be easy.” I take a cup from the cupboard and pour my milk, ignoring my relentless uncle. Him and Rah go back to when Rah started balling in elementary school, hanging with the big boys from jump. Bryan has always taken a liking to him and therefore always in my ear defending him when he gets the chance. “You’re only in high school. Stop taking shit so seriously all the time.” Before I can question his ill logic, there’s a knock at the front door. Jay rises from the couch and answers.

  “Alaafia. Is Iya Lynn Mae available?” I hear someone ask Jay through the front door in a traditional greeting for people in our religious culture. Mama’s clients usually know better than to drop by unannounced. Maybe he’s new.

  “Jayd,” Jay calls, knowing I’ll know what to do. I leave my uncle in the kitchen and walk through the dining room toward the front door. When I reach the screen I see a familiar face staring back at me from the porch: Emilio, with an elder I don’t recognize.

  “Jayd,” Emilio says, as surprised as I am. I open the wrought-iron screen door and step onto the porch, closing it behind me. How did he know where we live?

  “Yes, may I help you?” I ask, thrown off a little by the unexpected visit. I already have enough mixing of school and home drama with Misty occasionally staying next door with her evil godmother, Esmeralda. I don’t need this fool hanging around, too.

  “I didn’t know that you were related to the iyalosha,” Emilio says, referring to Mama by her spiritual title. Indeed, she is a mother with the orisha, but she’s also a queen and he probably doesn’t recognize her crown because she’s African American. Emilio and I have already had it out about blacks in America and our role in the retention of traditional African religion versus South Americans and Cubans, who he is convinced saved our ancestors from extinction while we let them go. My blood boils just thinking about his smug words.

  “Lynn Mae is my grandmother and she’s also not here. Can I help you with something?” I repeat, anxious to get him off the porch.

  “Emilio, is this the same Jayd you attend school with?” the elder asks, looking at me in amazement, apparently seeing the irony in our chance meeting, too.

  “Si, Papi. La misma,” he says. Hell yeah, I’m the same Jayd, and I can see he’s been running his mouth about me. But I really can’t say shit because Mama and Netta know all about Emilio, too.

  “So you’re the new princess,” the elder says, bowing his head in respect. Emilio looks on in awe of the man’s reverence, but shows me the same respect. I return the greeting, waiting for the reason why they’re dropping by unannounced. We just don’t do that around here, and when Mama finds out I’m sure she’ll put them in check.

  “Please forgive my rudeness. Me llamo Baba Hector and you already know my godson, Emilio. We are seeking your abuela’s assistance with a most urgent matter,” Hector says, almost pleading. Just their luck, Mama’s walking up the block from Netta’s shop now. Good. I want her to meet the infamous Emilio I told her about.

  “My grandmother sees people by appointment only, but you can talk to her yourself,” I say, pointing behind them. The elder turns around, relieved at the sight of Mama close to home.

  “Jayd, I did not realize that you were related to the Queen Jayd,” Emilio says, almost whispering he’s so embarrassed by his ignorance. “This changes everything.” I look at this fool, ready to go off, but Mama’s here and I have to keep my composure in front of the elders.

  “Greetings,” Mama says, walking up the driveway toward the front porch. Lexi comes across the front lawn to greet Mama and check out the company, just in case her protection is needed. “Can I help you?” Mama steps up the three steps onto the porch with Lexi at her side. The dog looks at our company and is on guard, as she should be and should’ve been when they first arrived, but Lexi only works for Mama.

  “Beni, iyalosha. I sincerely hope so,” Hector says, bowing to Mama’s invisible crown. Emilio follows suit and Mama touches both of their shoulders three times, indicating that they may rise. This shit is always so deep to me. It still throws me a little because Mama is my grandmother and I know her to be a great cook and the woman who can beat my ass if necessary. All of the reverence people pay her and me because of the women in our lineage just comes with the territory.

  “How so?” Mama hands me her purse, keeping her workbag tightly tucked under her right arm. Her salt-and-pepper hair is loosely curled around her shoulders, framing her flawless face perfectly. Mama looks great for a sistah in her fifties and a mother of eight children. Her green eyes begin to glow as her irritation at the drop-by visit becomes more evident.

  “I apologize for the intrusion, but we did not know how else to reach you. Me llamo Hector and this is my godson, Emilio,” he repeats for Mama’s sake, since I haven’t had a chance to introduce them properly. Mama looks at me, recognizing my classmate’s name, and I nod my head in acknowledgment that he is indeed the same Emilio I told her about some time ago. She turns her attention back to our guest, as curious as I am about the real reason they’re here and who really sent them.

  “Alaafia, Hector, Emilio. I am a busy woman, as I’m sure you can understand,” Mama says, getting straight to the point. And I need to get going sooner than later if I’m going to get any studying done. Cheer tryouts were brutal today and it was only day two, so a hot bath is in order and so is a hot meal. I’m not sure if Mama has something else for me to do, which is why I’m waiting around. Otherwise I would’ve been out of here an hour ago.

  “Sí, iyalosha. The reason for our visit is simple,” Hector says, shifting from his left leg to the right, which is supported by a walking stick. He’s a handsome man, his hair color matching Mama’s. He’s a bit on the short side, but that makes him even cuter in my eyes. I wonder how Emilio managed to hook up with a spiritual family in California when he’s an exchange student from Venezuela. Maybe Mr. Adewale introduced them, since Emilio is his protégé now. Or maybe Emilio has some family here. Either way, it’s a small world—too small, if you ask me.

  “We need a new godmother in our ile,” Emilio says, interrupting the elder, who shoots Emilio a look that says it all. Emilio bows his head in shame but still smiles at the cat finally being out of the bag.

  “Sí, Emilio is correct. We need a new iyalosha for our spiritual house and you, of course, are the greatest there is, Queen Jayd. Would you consider it, por favor?” Hector’s smooth, but no one’s that good. Mama has always said it would be a cold day in hell before she went back to an ile or a church, and I’m pretty sure hell is still on fire. Being solely devoted to a spiritual house outside of our own is too much like church for Mama’s blood.

  “Gracias, señor, for your consideration, but I work for myself. But please feel free to call when you need assistance. I help the community whenever I can,” Mama says, passing them both up and heading for the front door. I open the iron screen for her, but Hector didn’t get the message. Lexi places herself between Mama and our guest, ready to get rough if necessary.

  “Iya, por favor,” Hector pleads, grabbing Mama’s right hand. She looks at him like he’s lost his mind. I see touching folks out of the blue runs in their spiritual lineage. Emilio kissed me without my permission and then accused me of leading him on when I wasn’t receptive to his arrogant ass. Hector doesn’t look like he deals with rejection well, either. I look through the dining room and into the kitchen where the rest of Bryan’s food is on the table. He and Jay are completely oblivious to the drama going on out here and I’d much rather be inside eating with them than dealing with this bull any day.

  “Please let go of my hand,” Mama says in a deep voice that immediately lets Hector know he’s gone too far. “And like I already told you, I work alone. Now
please leave. I have work to do.” Hector reluctantly lets go of Mama’s hand and she goes in the house, leaving Lexi to walk them off of the front porch. They can argue if they want to, but Lexi doesn’t ask twice as her growl indicates. Both men look down at our healthy German shepherd and back up at me with pleading eyes, but I’m much less sympathetic than they think.

  “Princess Jayd, talk to your abuela, por favor,” Hector says. “We are in desperate need of her powerful female energy. My wife has taken ill and I can’t manage our house alone.” Lexi walks slowly toward them, urging them off the porch. I swear Lexi is more human than we give her credit for. One step at a time the men walk down while continuing to beg.

  “I feel for your loss, Baba Hector, but my grandmother can’t be swayed. Odabo,” I say. They both return the traditional good-bye and finally leave. I know Emilio will be all up in my ear at school from now on, like he needs another reason to talk to me. I’d better check on Mama in the spirit room. I bypass my uncle and cousin, making my way through the kitchen and back outside.

  “Someone’s always trying to put me on spiritual lock-down, I swear,” Mama says, furiously washing her hands in the kitchen sink. Her workbag is on the table and I place her heavy purse next to it. Mama takes one of the two yellow towels hanging from the refrigerator door to dry her hands.

  “It’s not such a bad thing to be asked, is it? It’s like a compliment to your flyyness,” I say, trying to make her smile, but Mama’s too pissed to see the humor in the situation.

  “Jayd, please. They didn’t come all the way over here to stroke my ego for my own good. Trust me, the benefit would be all theirs.” Mama opens the large hemp bag, removing its contents and putting everything in its place. She and Netta were busy mixing various concoctions of creams, oils, and bath salts when I arrived at work this afternoon and they were having a good time doing it. Sometimes I think they miss having the shop all to themselves, before my young self invaded their serene space. I’m just glad they let a sistah share in the wealth.