by Miasha
I was scared. I never saw my mom like that. I didn’t want to give her any money, but she needed it so bad. She looked sick and she was acting crazy. I didn’t know what she would do if I didn’t give her some money.
I went to the closet and took my book bag out.
“Uhn-uhn. Don’t give her no money,” Naja advised me.
“Naja! Shut up!” my mom shouted.
I opened my book bag to take out a twenty and looked up at my sister to give her a look to be quiet. I didn’t want them to get into it, especially while my mom was in that strange state of mind.
Suddenly my mom snatched the book bag and ran out my room. I chased her down the steps and grabbed her shirt, spinning her around to face me. She hauled off and punched me. I lost my balance and took a few steps back. I didn’t know if it was shock or my mom’s strength that had me feeling like I couldn’t move.
Naja had my back. She charged at my mom and tried to get my book bag from her. They tugged on it all the way to the front door. Then Marvin showed up. He must have been on the porch the whole time. And I was sure he had put my mom up to stealing from me. He pried Naja’s hands off the book bag and pushed my sister to the ground. Meanwhile my mom hurried off the porch.
I regained myself and ran to the door. Marvin stopped me in my tracks. He stood in front of me, holding me back by my neck. I started crying and screaming at the same time.
“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, MOM! HOW YOU GOIN’ STEAL FROM ME, YOUR OWN DAUGHTER? HOW YOU GOIN’ DO THIS TO ME?”
I whaled off and started swinging on Marvin. He let me go and ran off the porch. I dropped to the floor, still in the doorway of my house, halfway in and halfway out. I started sobbing uncontrollably. Naja hugged me and cried with me. She knew just as I knew that all the money I had saved was in that book bag—and with it in the hands of Marvin and my mom we were back at square one—stuck there, stuck in that house. I couldn’t take it.
I jumped up and went upstairs to my room. I started putting clothes on top of my pajamas. I threw on my coat and sneakers and let my hair out of its wrap.
Naja was right behind me. “Where you goin?” she asked, wiping her eyes.
“I be back. Stay here with Kindle,” I told her.
“Where you goin?” she whined.
“I’m goin’ to Aunt Jackie’s to get my fuckin’ money before that bitch of a mother we got shoot it all up.”
“Let me go with you. I wanna fuck her up for you,” Naja said, still crying.
“No. Kindle can’t be here by hisself. I’ll be all right,” I said as I left.
It was dark and it had gotten cold outside. I speed walked up the street and around the corner. A few smokers were scattered about in front of C&S’s, probably waiting for their dealers. I spoke to the ones that I knew and kept on to Aunt Jackie’s. My heart was racing. I wanted to really hurt my mom and Marvin.
Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!
Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!
I was banging on Aunt Jackie’s door like I was the cops. I didn’t care either. I wanted my money.
“What the hell?” Aunt Jackie answered the door. “Angel, what is wrong with you? Banging on my door like that this time of night. It better be a life-or-death situation, missy.”
“Is my mom here?” I asked with an attitude.
“No, she ain’t here, but come in and tell me what’s going on.”
“She ain’t here? Did she come by here? Or did Marvin come by here?”
“No. Come in the house out of the cold and tell me what the problem is.”
I walked in Aunt Jackie’s house. “Is Haas here?”
“Hasaan ain’t been here in days. Why? What the hell is going on with you?”
I started to tell Aunt Jackie what had happened, but that would have been a waste of time. She wouldn’t have done nothing about it and plus I wanted to try to find my mom before it was too late. She couldn’t have gone far. And if she didn’t buy from Hasaan, then the only other person would have been the dealer on my block.
“I’ll tell you later. I gotta go,” I told Aunt Jackie and walked out her house.
“you don’t need to be in the streets this late, Angel,” Aunt Jackie yelled from her doorway. I was almost at the corner of her block, and I wasn’t tryna hear that. I wanted my money back.
I walked back around to my block and knocked on the crack house door. The fat guy who rented the house came to the door.
“What’s up, Angel?” he asked casually, like it wasn’t my first time knocking on his door. I mean, we spoke when we saw each other in the street, but I never knocked on his door before.
“What’s up, Mr. Carl? Is my mom in there?”
“Naw,” he said simply.
“All right,” I said and walked off the porch.
It was getting windy and I was tired of looking for my mom. I was sure her and Marvin gave my money to a dope man by then anyway. The thought of that brought tears to my eyes. I felt myself getting angry all over again. I desperately needed to be with Jamal at that time. I didn’t care that it was late. I was going to knock on his door. I needed him more than anything.
I walked up to his house and saw the light from the TV glowing through his basement window. I felt a sense of relief knowing that he was probably awake. I decided to knock on the basement window instead of the front door. After a few soft knocks, he appeared at the window. His face was frowned up. I thought it was because he was shocked that I was knocking on his window at that hour. But when he came to the door I was in for a rude awakening.
“What the fuck you want?” he asked me.
At first, I couldn’t speak. I was so confused. My face was scrunched up.
“Jamal, this is not the time for nothing petty, and if you’re actin’ like this because I didn’t call you at eleven o’clock then that definitely qualifies as petty,” I told him, trying to be as calm as possible.
“You think I give a fuck that you ain’t call me at eleven. I could care less if you never call me again,” he said with an anger-stricken face.
“What the fruck?” I shouted. “I can’t catch a break. First my mom and her bullshit and now this? What is it about?”
“Don’t try to make me feel sorry for you, ‘cause I don’ t. You act like ya life is so fucked up all the time when you come around me, but you all laughs and smiles when you suckin’ a nigga dick at the strip club.”
“Oh, my God, what are you talkin’ about?” I remembered the episode that Jamal was talking about, but I had to deny it. I didn’t mean to do that. I was high as hell. But I didn’t think it would get back to him. And if it did he couldn’t have had solid proof, so I just figured I’d deny it to the very end.
“Don’t play stupid. My young bull showed me the pictures on his phone.”
“What? What young bull? What pictures? What are you talking about?”
At that point I started getting scared. If that nigga snapped pictures of me with his camera phone then that was it. There was no way I could deny it. I was caught.
“He work at my fuckin’ job, and he showed all of us in the break room you givin’ him head in a club. I can’t believe you. My mom was right about you. You lied to me this whole time about being a housekeeper at a hotel. You really been dancin’ naked for a bunch of niggas and apparently suckin’ all they dicks. I don’t got no love for you no more, man. You did me dirty. I don’t want nothin’ to do with you. So take ya problems to them niggas.” Boom!
Jamal said what he had to say and shut the door in my face. I couldn’t even defend myself. He was right. I was wrong. Dead wrong. I should have never went that far in the club. Jamal been nothing but good to me, and I fucked up. I knew he was hurt. He had to be. He put a lot into me and took a lot from his mom for me and I stabbed him in his back. I was so mad at myself I could have slit my wrist right then and there if I had a blade. Seeing Jamal hurt like that made me feel worse than how I felt about what my mom just did. I thought I was going to lose my mind
. I felt so much emotional pain. I needed something. But I didn’t know what. I just knew that I couldn’t go home. I was too hurt to go home and be reminded of what my mom did.
I walked the few blocks to Antione’s house stumbling over my own feet, mumbling to myself, and fighting tears the whole way. I was messed up. Somebody could have snatched me up and ended my life and I wouldn’t have cared. I rang Antione’s bell. He answered the door and panicked.
“Angel? What happened? Who did this to you?” he asked, looking at my face, seemingly half asleep. I must have had a bruise or something from when my mom punched me. He let me in and I plopped down on his sofa.
“One of them niggas at the club? Which one? I will kill that pussy!” Antione went on as he wiped crust out his eyes.
I shook my head no and mumbled, “My mom.”
Antione stopped ranting and raving about what he was going to do to the nigga who hit me, and he sat down beside me. He had a serious but sincere look on his face. “Damn, Angel, she’s that bad now?” he asked of my mother.
I nodded yes, and the tears poured out. I dropped my head in Antione’s lap. Antione rubbed my head. It was obvious he didn’t know what to say. But I guessed he felt so bad that he had to offer something.
“You want to smoke a blunt with me?” he asked.
“Please,” I said in desperation. I had never smoked weed a day in my life before then, but I had heard that it made people’s pain go away. And at that moment all I wanted was for my pain to go away.
Antione lifted my head off his lap and retrieved a bag of weed and a cigar from a box on his coffee table. I watched him empty the cigar and begin to fill it with the weed.
“Yo, what happened?” he asked as he rolled the blunt.
I shook my head and started to explain. “In one day, I got kicked out of school, my mom stole all the money I had saved up, and the only person I did have in my corner told me he don’t want nothin’ to do with me because he seen pictures of me dancin’ in the club that he didn’t even know I worked at. What the fuck did I do to deserve this day,” I cried.
Antione didn’t respond. He just shook his head. He seemed like he felt sorry for me and wanted to make me feel better as fast as he could because he started licking the blunt quickly. He lit it and gave it to me first. I didn’t know what to do with it. I couldn’t stop crying, and I had never smoked a blunt before. I put it in my mouth and inhaled. I started choking. Antione took the blunt out my hand and patted my back.
“You gotta take your time. And try to stop crying first,” he instructed. He took a puff and I watched him.
I reached out for the blunt and gave it another try. I got it right that time, and after a short while I found what it was that I needed.
No Place Like Home
It was Thanksgiving Day. I woke up with a smile on my face. My mom was going to cook all that food I bought and we were going to have dinner like we used to. I couldn’t wait. I sat up in the bed and looked across the room, but my sister’s bed wasn’t there. Oh, shit, I thought, I’m not home. I’m still at Antione’s. My smile turned into a frown and my joy into sadness. All the shit that happened three days before came to mind. I started feeling mad again, especially since I had looked forward to spending the holiday with my family. I wanted to cry. But I didn’t. I just got out the bed and went in the bathroom. I rolled a blunt with the weed me and Antione had left over from the night before. I lit it up and sat down on the toilet seat and smoked it.
When I got done I washed my hands and went downstairs. Antione wasn’t there. I went in the kitchen to make a bowl of cereal. Antione’s kitchen was spotless. It looked like he never cooked one day in there. His pots and pans looked brand new, and he had the good kind, too. They were stainless-steel nonstick. This was no place like home. All I needed was my sister and brother with me and I would have been cool. I made a mental note to call and check on Naja and Kindle when I finished eating. I hadn’t spoken to them since I left. I hadn’t done much of anything for that matter, except eat, sleep, and smoke weed. I needed that rest though. I had to get my mind together for work. I had to build my stash up from scratch again, so it was no time for me to be takin’ my problems to work.
I poured the milk in my bowl of Cap’n Crunch and sat at the bar. I turned on the plasma TV Antione had on the wall in his living room and turned to the parade. I remember Curtis took us down to the Macy’s parade one year. It was cold as shit. But we had fun, though. I missed my brother so much.
I got up to get an ice cube from the ice maker and heard keys in the front door. Antione walked in with a big aluminum pan and like six other pans were on the doorstep.
“You need help?” I asked, walking toward him.
“Yeah, take this,” he said, handing me the big pan.
“Ummm,” I said, getting a whiff of the food. “What’s all this?”
“It’s our Thanksgiving grub,” he responded, carrying in all of the other pans.
“For real?” I squealed. “This is what’s up!”
I put the pan down on the counter and lifted the corner of the top to get a peek at what was in it.
“Macaroni and cheese!”
“Here,” Antione said as he put another big pan down on the counter. “Put this one in the oven.”
“What’s in that?” I asked.
“I think it’s the greens.”
Antione put another pan on the counter as I put the pan of greens in the oven.
“Can this one fit in there too?” he asked, handing me another big pan.
I took the pan from him and smelled the top trying to figure out what it was. It smelled like yams. I hoped I was right. I put it on the bottom oven rack.
“Where you get all this food from?” I asked.
“Sylvia’ s,” he said nonchalantly, as if Sylvia’s didn’t have the best soul food in New York.
“Sylvia’s hooked you up!”
“Yeah, they always look out for me.”
Antione and me put the rest of the pans wherever we could fit them. Some in the refrigerator, on the counter, and on the dining room table. It was food everywhere. I couldn’t wait until dinnertime.
I watched the rest of the parade with Antione as we reminisced about Curtis. And all that reminiscing made me want to see Naja and Kindle, so I got dressed, wrapped up some of the food Antione had bought to take to my sister and brother, and walked to my mom’s house. I needed to get some clothes anyway.
“Hi, Angel,” Kindle took his eyes off the cartoons to speak to me when I walked in the door. My mom’s house was a mess. Kindle’s toys were scattered about the living room. Marvin’s sneakers and clothes were thrown around. The coffee table was covered with mail and newspapers, and cigarette butts and ashes were sprinkled about as if someone dumped the ashtrays onto the floor.
“Hey, big boy. Come give me a hug,” I told my brother as I cleared a spot on the table for the food I’d brought.
I sat on the couch and Kindle jumped into my arms. He needed a haircut and his nose was crusty like he had a cold.
“You sick?” I asked, holding him on my lap.
He nodded his head yes. I kissed him on his cheek and put him down. I went in the kitchen to put the food away and turn on the oven to heat the house up some. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink. Nothing was cooking. It was Thanksgiving, for God’s sake.
“Where’s Naja?” I asked Kindle, walking back into the living room.
“Upstairs, I think.”
I went upstairs. My room door was closed. I went in. Naja was in the bed asleep. She must have been cold, because even with the kerosene heater on, she was snuggled up in my and her comforter and still in her clothes.
“Naja,” I whispered, tapping my sister.
“Angel?” she asked, waking from her sleep. “Where you been at?”
“I had to get away from here,” I told her, not answering her question. I didn’t want Naja to know that I’ve been staying at Antione’s because she would have wanted to
stay there, too, and that wouldn’t have worked for a few reasons. Number one, I didn’t want to turn Antione’s house into a shelter. Number two, I didn’t want her to be in there with Antione alone on the days I would be at work. And number three, I wasn’t sure how long I would be staying there myself, and I didn’t want her to be moving all around with me.
“Why you leave me here?” Naja asked, frowning.
“I can’t take you and Kindle with me just yet, but I will. I just need a little bit of time to get some more money saved up.”
“You staying with Jamal, ain’t you?” she guessed.
“Naw,” I said. Damn, I wished I was though. I still hadn’t gotten over our breakup. I called him every day that I’ve been gone and apologized on his answering machine, but he hadn’t called me back. Naja was goin’ make me want some weed, bringing up Jamal.
“Well, where you been? I know you wasn’t at Aunt Jackie’s ‘cause I been over there,” she continued.
“Don’t worry about that. But you shouldn’t be over Aunt Jackie’s house like that. Kindle need somebody here with him to make sure he eat and stuff. And if you do go around there, take him with you.”
“He be all right,” Naja whined.
“Just do what I told you,” I stressed.
“Well, are you staying here?” Naja asked, after rolling her eyes at my demand.
“No. I just came to see y’all and drop off some food and to get some clothes.”
“You brought some food?” Naja asked, enthused.
“Yeah. From Sylvia’s. It’s enough for like a week.”
Naja came from beneath the covers and jumped out of the bed. She wasted no time getting down to the kitchen. Sometimes I thought she was more greedy than hungry because she got way too excited over food.
“Hooo!” Naja sang as she danced around the food in the kitchen.
She took a plate out of the sink, rinsed it, and put it on the table. Then she got a fork out of one the drawers.
“I’m ‘bout to throw down!”
Her loud mouth must have piqued Kindle’s curiosity, because he came into the kitchen.
