Bell Bottom High: Book 3: Junior Jewels

by B. J. Williams

  By the time Mama made it home early, around four-thirty, I had changed into a studded denim pantsuit and a pair of brown clogs. My brothers were dressed to the nines in fly leisure suits and platform shoes. Tyrone had used a Johnson’s quick blow-out kit on his afro, but it still wasn’t as big or fluffy as Michael Jackson’s.

  “Hi, Mama, thanks for coming home early so we can get on up out of here,” Tyrone said, greeting her at the back entrance. He grabbed the brown bag of groceries she was carrying and placed it on the kitchen counter.

  “Are you all sure you want to get on the road right now? It’s been raining off and on all day, and I heard there might be a storm headed towards Little Rock.” Mama took off her raincoat and rain cap.

  “Ain’t nobody worried about that little ole rain,” Joshua said. “We just need to leave right now so we’ll have plenty of time to get there and find a parking spot. I know that arena is gonna be packed tight.”

  “I know that’s right.” Tyrone popped his fingers twice, kissed Mom on the cheek, and said, “Come on, Reecy, we need to go.”

  “Just a minute, I have to say goodbye to Grandma.”

  I knocked on Grandma’s bedroom door and busted in before the old lady had time to respond. To my surprise, Grandma was lying in the bed with a homemade quilt pulled over her shoulders. “Hey, Granny, are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m okay, baby. These old bones were feeling a little cold so I climbed in the bed and got under the covers. I guess all this bad weather is causing my arthritis to act up. Are y’all headed out?”

  “Yes, ma’am, we’re headed to Little Rock for the Jackson Five concert,” I replied, hugging her neck. After placing a kiss on Granny’s cheek, I sped out of the room like a bolt of lightning. I felt some concern for Grandma’s health, but I shrugged it off. I was too excited to think of anyone besides myself and seeing Michael Jackson onstage live tonight.

  Within minutes, we were outside and climbing into Tyrone’s white Ford Mustang. I felt comfortable with the red vinyl interior as I eased into the backseat. After Tyrone wrecked his car last year, he was determined to have it restored to its original glory. Although the accident had caused him a broken leg, that vehicle had saved Tyrone from going overseas to fight in a war.

  “Hey, Reecy, I got this new eight-track tape by Earth, Wind & Fire that I want you to listen to. They got some bad jams on here that you might have heard already,” Tyrone said, pushing in the tape.

  “Oh, yeah, like what?” I asked, scooting to the edge of my seat and leaning in between my brothers.

  “They got, “Shining Star,” the number one song on this bad boy,” Tyrone replied.

  I bobbed my head as the music began to sift through the back speakers. This wasn’t my favorite group, but I appreciated their unique sound and the fact that they played all of their own musical instruments. The melody was so clear, it sounded like I was onstage with the band live.

  “Now that’s who I’d love to see in concert! They have a bad horn section,” Joshua chimed in, popping his fingers to the beat. “I hear they have smoke coming up from the floor onstage, people doing flips, and everything.”

  “Maybe we can catch them if they do a concert in Little Rock,” Tyrone said, turning up the windshield wipers. “Man, it seems like it ain’t never gonna stop raining.”

  “I know, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to get my new suit wet, but if this keeps up, we’re all gonna get soaked.” Tyrone shook his head in disgust, looking down at his new digs. “I spent just about all my bread on this new suit, too.”

  I leaned back in my seat, crossed my fingers, and wished the rain away. By the time we made it to Arkadelphia, about an hour south of Little Rock, the steady rain was still pounding the roof of the car. When the red gas light came on, Tyrone didn’t have any choice but to pull over into the nearest filling station.

  As Tyrone returned to the car with a sour look on his face, I knew we were about to receive some awful news. Releasing a deep sigh, Tyrone started the car before saying a word. “Well, I hate to tell you guys this.” He shifted his eyes from Joshua to me, and back again. “We’re gonna have to miss the concert tonight.”

  “What happened?” Josh and I asked together.

  “Well, according to the cashier, the concert’s been canceled due to the bad weather. He said the Jacksons’ airplane wasn’t even able to land at the airport.”

  “No!” I screamed. I covered my eyes with both hands while my stomach did a triple somersault. This can’t be happening. We’re less than an hour away. I’ve got to see Michael tonight.

  “I’m sorry, sis. The guy said that he just heard the announcement on the radio. He said half the city is flooded and the other half is under flood watch. They’re advising everybody to get off the roads and find a safe place to ride it out. He said it’s supposed to rain the rest of the night.”

  I didn’t want the tears to seep through my fingers, but the way my heart was flooding with pain, I didn’t have a choice. “I can’t believe this is happening. We’re so close to Little Rock. Can’t we keep going?” I begged.

  “The concert is canceled, so there’s no point in going on to Little Rock,” Tyrone replied calmly. He looked over at Joshua. I think he was searching for back-up since I wasn’t trying to hear that.

  “Yeah, but you don’t know that for sure. Maybe they’re just trying to postpone it until the rain stops or the plane can land or something,” I persisted. I wasn’t ready to give up on my dream of seeing Michael Jackson and hearing him sing just for me.

  “Look, Reecy,” Joshua began, turning to face me, “I know how bad you want to see the Jackson Five, and I want to see them, too. But they’re expecting it to rain all night, and they want all the cars off the road. If we keep going, we’re probably going to run into the highway patrol telling us to turn around anyway. Now, our best bet is to head back before the weather gets worse and we can’t even make it home.” As soon as the words left Joshua’s mouth, the rain started pelting the compact car like cats and dogs were falling on top of it.

  My breaths were getting shorter. I felt like I was hyperventilating. But I pushed through the discomfort, and cried, “You guys paid for those tickets already. They have to have a show, don’t they?”

  “No, they don’t,” Joshua replied, shaking his head. “Now, calm down. They’ll probably give everybody their money back on Monday. You know, the Jacksons are probably already headed back to California. So let’s head back home and see if they rescheduled the concert for a later date. That’s all we can do.”

  Nodding in agreement with our brother, Tyrone stared into my watery eyes, and said with sincerity, “I promise you that we’ll take you to the concert whenever they reschedule it. I promise that we’ll come back to get you, and we’ll have even better seats than we had this time, sis. Now just sit back and enjoy the ride home.”

  Tyrone turned the windshield wipers to the highest setting, shifted the car into drive, and eased away from the service station. I bolted back in my seat like a spoiled two-year-old at K-Mart crying for a new toy. My whole body ached from head to toe as I released a full stream of tears.

  Staring out the car window at the pouring rain, my heart jumped every time the thunder cracked. It would be hard to look at Michael’s poster from now on knowing just how close I had come to seeing his handsome face in person. This was the worst night of my life. And listening to him singing, “Maybe Tomorrow,” on the eight-track didn’t make it any better. I wanted tomorrow to be today.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Hey girl, you’re sure looking hip today in that outfit,” Joyce said, smiling up at me from her seat on the school bus Monday morning. Some cold weather had moved in after all the rain this weekend. I was wearing a light coat, but my outfit was still showing.

  Plopping down in my usual space beside Joyce, I returned her smile. “Thanks, this is what I had on to wear to the Jackson Five concert Friday night,” I replied, remembering the heartache I had felt from
not making it to the concert in Little Rock.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get to see Michael. He would have fallen in love with you in that slamming jean suit. I’m going to start calling you the Stud Queen, because you sure know how to decorate an outfit with them.”

  “Yeah,” I replied, looking dreamy eyed. My whole world was crushed after we didn’t make it to the show. Not even a stop at the famous McDonald’s restaurant on our way back home had been able to ease my pain.

  We slouched down in our seats. Both of us seemed to be in our own world of thoughts. After a few minutes passed, Joyce turned to me, and asked, “Are you ready to say the welcome for the African exchange students this morning?”

  I sighed, patted my backpack, and replied, “I guess so. I worked on it all weekend. I just hope I can get it out without stuttering.”

  “Oh, relax, you’re going to do great. Is your mom still coming?”

  “Yeah, she said she would be there before the program starts at ten, but I have to meet with Ms. Walker as soon as we get to school so she can preview my speech.”

  “I wonder if either one of the students will be placed in a class with us. Wouldn’t that be neat?”

  “It would be cool. Then we could ask them all kinds of questions and learn about our motherland firsthand.”

  We chatted back and forth until we finally reached the school grounds. I didn’t waste any time gathering my things. “I’ll see you later, Joyce. Ms. Walker is probably waiting on me in her classroom by now.”

  “All right, I’ll see you in the gym later.”

  I walked in on Ms. Walker sitting behind her desk and sorting through a stack of graded papers. I was surprised at how well the teacher was dressed in traditional African attire. She had her super-sized afro wrapped in a bright green and gold head wrap that looked like a crown. “Wow! Ms. Walker, you’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Reecy. I thought I’d make our guests feel welcome this morning by dressing like them.”

  “Yes, ma’am, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were an African, too.”

  Ms. Walker chuckled. “How’d that speech turn out? I hope you were able to finish it this weekend.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I replied, whipping out the paper I had written. “I didn’t get a chance to type it last night, because my typewriter ribbon ran out.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” Ms. Walker responded, standing up. She walked around to the front of her desk and took the sheet from me. She speed-read the entire speech in less than two minutes. “This is perfect,” she said, handing the paper back to me. “Are you nervous?”

  I looked down before responding, and placed a hand over my jittery stomach. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve never had to speak in front of a large crowd like this before. I’m just used to speaking at our small church where I know everybody.”

  “You’re going to be fine,” Ms. Walker said, smiling at me like I was a shiny prize. She patted me on the back, and continued, “Just take a deep breath before you start speaking, focus on your words, and try to relax.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I replied, hoping that I wouldn’t faint while on the stage. What if the students laugh at me or I mispronounce a word? I know I’ll pass out for sure.

  “That’s all I ask is that you do your best,” Ms. Walker said, returning to her seat behind the desk. “Now, let’s run through it a couple of times, and I’ll write you a pass for first period.”

  After clearing my throat and squaring my shoulders, I began reciting my welcome speech. I tried to follow Ms. Walker’s advice by taking a deep breath and then focusing on my words, but from the way the paper was shaking in my right hand, I was a long way from being relaxed.

  Ms. Walker interrupted after a few seconds had passed. “What’s wrong, Reecy?”

  I dropped my hand, holding the paper down to my side. “I’m really nervous. You know, my mom, the mayor, the principal, and the whole school are going to be there listening to me. What if I mess something up?” I looked down at my teacher, praying that my stomach would stop turning flips and the pounding in my head would soon subside.

  “Will you please stop worrying?” Ms. Walker pleaded, rubbing her palms together. “You’re going to do a great job. Just find one person in the audience to focus on, and shut out everybody else. You know what I mean?”

  I thought about it for a second, and replied, “Yes, ma’am, I believe I do.”

  “Good, now let’s take it from the top.” Ms. Walker crossed her arms, leaned back in her seat, and listened to me complete the speech.

  By 9:30 a.m. when the students were called over the intercom to report to the gymnasium, my nerves had calmed down significantly. I even managed to smile a little bit at the thought of speaking in front of everyone.

  The students were happy to be released from class, and most of them had already exited the room and were headed to the gym. I was sitting with Joyce, trying to gather up my notes.

  “Are you ready?” Joyce asked.

  “Yeah, I’m ready to get this over with,” I replied, closing my notebook.

  “Oh, you’re going to do great. I’m so proud of you. Out of everybody in the whole school, my best friend gets to deliver the welcome for the African foreign exchange students. Now that’s an honor. This is a day that I’ll never forget.”

  “Right,” I responded, as we walked out of class together. This will be a day for the history books at Bell High School.

  The gymnasium filled up quickly with students, teachers, special guests, and community leaders. I was seated onstage between Ms. Walker and Mayor Marks. I tried to sit up straight and look like a proud Afro-American girl.

  I searched the crowd for Mama and hoped that she would find a seat near the stage so that I could focus on her smiling face while speaking. That’s the only way I’ll ever be able to remain calm.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” Principal Lazarus said, speaking into the microphone, using his most professional voice. Smoothing the front of his navy suit, the portly man cleared his throat several times and waited patiently for the rowdy students to get settled into their seats. After brief words to the student body, he asked everyone to stand for the pledge of allegiance.

  I admired the two African students as they stood to the left of me at the end of the row. The young girl looked to be about my age and height while the smiling young man looked to be older and taller. Both were draped in their traditional African attire.

  The girl’s hair was braided in tiny cornrows all going up to form a bun at the top of her head. Her face was dark without a trace of make-up. When she smiled at me, her eyes lit up like she’d found a new best friend.

  I seemed to be in a trance until I heard Mr. Lazarus say my name. Blinking my eyes rapidly, I looked around to see everyone staring at I. So I crept to the podium, reached underneath for my speech, and placed it on top of the stand. As my heart pounded louder than a drum against my chest, I turned the opal birthstone ring on my finger that Grandma had given me for my birthday. I wished that she could have been in the audience today, but due to her failing health, I knew Grandma Gladys wouldn’t be in attendance. But my eyes still roamed the audience for Mama’s smiling face.

  I finally spotted Mama in the second row. She was smiling at me just like I knew she would be. I wanted to wave at her, but decided to swallow my nerves instead.

  “To the principal, Mayor Marks, and all of our platform guests, it’s my honor to welcome you all…”

  “Excuse me! Excuse me!”

  I stopped in the middle of my sentence, looked out into the crowd, and almost fainted at the sight I saw approaching the stage. My eyes stretched to Kingdom Come. Suddenly, my tongue was too heavy for me to continue speaking even if I wanted to. It was as if time had stopped the second I saw Chubby walking down the center aisle behind R.J., who was struggling to get out of the arm hold that Chubby had on him.

  Before I could process what was actually happening, Principal Lazarus was on his feet rac
ing to the microphone. I noticed the veins popping in his forehead as he spoke. “Young man, we’re in the middle of a program here.”

  “Yes, sir, I know,” Chubby replied, pushing R.J. to climb up the three steps leading onto the stage. “But if you’d just give us a minute, my friend here has something that he’d like to say to everybody.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on here. Both of you need to get off this stage immediately!” the principal shouted.

  Chubby maintained his stronghold on R.J. and eye contact with the principal at the same time. “I’m not leaving until everyone hears what R.J. has to say about my cousin.”

  Principal Lazarus glanced at me and then back to Chubby with fire in his eyes. He was a big fellow, but Chubby was bigger, as well as a trained wrestler, and he wasn’t backing down from the authority figure.

  My heart was so tight in my chest that I couldn’t tell whether I was breathing or not. Oh, God, please tell me that this is not happening to me. Not today.

  I tried to whisper, “Chubby, what’s going on?” But my voice was nowhere to be found.

  R.J. wiggled, and screamed, “Get this fool off of me! He’s crazy!”

  Chubby tightened his grip, and shouted, “Shut up and apologize to my cousin before I break your arm!”

  “Okay, young man,” Principal Lazarus said, holding up one hand. “Let go of his arm, and I’ll give him the microphone. Then, I want you both off of my stage and in my office.”

  Chubby let go of R.J.’s arm, but dared him to make a wrong move. Rubbing his wrist, R.J. mumbled underneath his breath as the audience waited for him to speak. He bent down closer to the microphone, and snarled, “I’m sorry for lying on Reecy Jones. Everything I said about me and her doing it was a lie.”

  The room exploded with noise. The crowd went wild screaming like the roof was on fire. Students were standing up, laughing, and shouting from every corner of the building. I spotted my archrival, Leslie Harper, standing in the middle of the crowd waving her arms. For just one minute, I wanted to cover my eyes and ears at the same time to block out everything going on around me. I didn’t know whether to be madder at R.J. or Chubby for humiliating me in front of the entire student body. Lord, if you can just get me through this one, maybe I’ll be all right.