Big Booty

by Cairo

  “Boy, you hear me callin’ you,” Darius says, snappin’ me outta my thoughts. “Get ya butt down here.”

  He takes his slow sweet time comin’ down the stairs, then peers around the wall. I glare at him. “Boy, get over here,” Darius says to him. “What you gotta say to Ma?”

  He lowers his head. “I’m sorry.”

  I narrow my eyes, clenchin’ my teeth. “Boy, I wanna wrap a cord around ya neck and swing you through the goddamn streets for doing that shit. Why the fuck you do it? And before you shrug ya goddamn shoulders and say you don’t know, you better think long and hard.” I place a hand on my hip, waiting to see if I’ma have to punch him in his mouth or not.

  His lips quivers. “I got really mad.”

  “Why’d you get mad, Isaiah?”

  “ ’Cause Missus Lambert never picks me in class. She picks the other kids to do stuff and always acts like I’m not there.”

  I frown. “What the fuck you mean, Missus Lambert don’t pick you?”

  Tears start fallin’. “When I raise my hand to answer questions or to go to the board, she won’t pick me. She told the class that if they wanna end up in jail or dead to look at me.”

  My eyes pop open in disbelief. “Say whaaaat?!” I snap, shakin’ my head. “That bitch said what?” He repeats what she said. “Are you makin’ this shit up, Isaiah? ’Cause you know I will tear that ho’s ass up.”

  He shakes his head. “No. She said it. And the kids were laughin’ at me.”

  Oh, I’m steamin’ now. You don’t fuck with my goddamn kids. I don’t give a fuck who you are. And you don’t make them feel like they ain’t shit. When I was their age, I didn’t have anyone encouragin’ me, or tellin’ me I could be a lawyer or a doctor or the next top supermodel. No one made me feel special. No, I had a grandmother who kept tellin’ me I was gonna end up bein’ a junkie-whore like my mother. That I was worthless like her; that I would be found somewhere dead.

  No, Beulah didn’t have a goddamn kind word for me. And she didn’t give a damn about me. All that old bitch cared about was gettin’ her monthly check from the state for me. I had to look for encouragement in the goddamn streets, in the backseat of some horny niggah’s car, or in some alleyway, or abandoned buildin’. I never wanted to be a junkie bitch. So I wasn’t gonna allow shit Beulah said about me make me become that. And I be goddamned if I’ma let some bitch or no-good niggah try that shit with any of my kids.

  I feel all the blood rushin’ to my goddamn head. I’m ready to go off. I pull out a chair and sit. “Come here,” I say to him. He moves slowly over to me, and starts crying. “Stop crying. I’m not gonna hit you.” I pull him into my arms and give him a kiss. Then I grab him by the shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Do you wanna end up in jail or dead?”

  He shakes his head, wipin’ his tears. “No.”

  “Then fuck what that bitch said. That ho don’t know shit. You stay in school, get good grades, play sports, stay focused and outta trouble, and you can be the next president of the goddamn United States if that’s what you wanna be. I don’t send you to school to curse out teachers. You know I didn’t raise you to be disrespectful to adults. And you had no goddamn business pullin’ out ya motherfuckin’ cock. But did you have on clean drawers and was ya body lotioned?”

  He nods. “Yes.”

  “Mmmph. Ya black ass better be glad ’cause I woulda really beat yo’ ass for havin’ on dirty drawers or showin’ off an ashy-ass dingaling. But don’t you do that shit again, you hear me?”

  He nods, again.

  “Good. Ya ass is still gonna be on punishment, though. And where the hell you see someone pullin’ out their damn dick and tellin’ someone to suck it, anyway?”

  He shrugs.

  I eye him. “Don’t do it, boo-boo. I will take it to ya throat boy, and you know it. So you better say it.”

  “At Daddy’s.”

  “What? You saw ya fahver do some shit like that?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I was watchin’ it on a movie.” I ask him what kinda movie. He tells me that when he was stayin’ at his fahver’s over the summer that he found videos of people havin’ sex and watched them while his fahver and that bitch LaQuandra were asleep.

  “And where’d you find these movies?”

  “In the closet. They were in a box on the floor, and I wanted to see what they were doing.”

  I sigh, decidin’ to deal with this later. “Did ya fahver call here?”

  “Yes. He wants you to call him.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’ma call him later. But, first thing tomorrow, I’ma be down at that school, again, draggin’ that bitch outta the classroom.”

  Shit. I forgot I can’t go up in the school ’cause that punk-ass bitch LaQuandra got a restrainin’ order on me. “On second thought, I’ma meet that teacher bitch out in the parkin’ lot.”

  I stand up, eyein’ Elijah as he comes down the stairs. “Elijah, did you have homework today?” I gotta stay on Elijah’s ass when it comes to his schoolwork; otherwise he’ll end up with a buncha damn D’s and F’s on his progress reports for homework. I try not to be too hard on him since he’s my eyes and ears when I’m not around. Don’t shit get past him that I don’t hear about. He sits back, takes in everything. Then, the first chance he gets me alone, he gives me a minute-by-minute report. So I can’t fuck him up too bad. But he knows I’ll rock his goddamn ass if his homework isn’t done.

  “Yes. I already did it,” he says, shiftin’ his eyes.

  “Where is it? Go get it and let me see it.” He looks at me all crazy and whatnot. And I know he’s lyin’. “Elijah, don’t do it. Don’t get fucked up tonight. Go get that goddamn homework—you know, the shit you didn’t do, but shoulda did the minute you walked through this door—before I turn the ghetto switch on and fuck you up. I see all of you lil’ fuckers musta really thought I was gonna be locked up for a few days, didn’t you? Well, guess what? I’m not. Now go get that homework and get yo’ ass over at this table and get it done.” As Joshua is comin’ down the stairs, I add, “And, Joshua, you help him.”

  He sucks his teeth, goin’ into the kitchen.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Josh! Don’t have me bang you in ya fuckin’ mouth. What I tell you about yeah-ing me? You kids gonna fuckin’ respect me around here goddammit. Or I’ma put your black asses out. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, Ma. I heard you.”

  I glance over and see Darius playin’ Xbox with the twins and smile. “Darius, I need to see you in my room,” I say as I’m walkin’ down the hall. That’s code for let’s spark a blunt and talk.

  “Aiight, I got you.”

  A few minutes later, he’s sittin’ in my leather recliner chair with his feet kicked up on the ottoman, passing me a blunt. “Yo, wassup with the stash I gave you?” he asks, blowin’ smoke up in the air.

  “Boy, please. I’m savin’ that for a rainy day.” I take a deep pull, then hold the smoke in my lungs, blowing it slowly out. “These goddamn kids stress me out. That fuckin’ bitch down at the school today really tried my nerves.”

  I hand him back the blunt.

  “Who?”

  “Goddamn LaQuandra, talkin’ ’bout I’ma unfit mother and need to have my kids taken away from me.” He shakes his head, takin’ two pulls from the blunt, then passing it back to me. “Do you think I’ma fucked up mother?”

  “Nah. You holds it down, Ma. I mean, yeah, you get a lil’ reckless at times . . . ”

  I raise my brow, snatchin’ the blunt from him.

  “I’m sayin’, Ma. You go in hard. And sometimes you real extra wit’ it. But you def not an effed-up mother. Shit, we’ve always had food to eat and clothes on our backs. I can’t front. You always kept us laced in that hotness. And you stayed on my ass to finish school. You handle ya handle, Ma; real talk. And you ain’t no joke. Shit, you fucked me up a few times, so I already know what it is.”

  I laugh, wavin’ h
im on. “Boy, hush. I ain’t never really fuck you up. I let you get away with a lot.”

  “Yo, Ma. Stop.” He takes off his fitted, pointin’ to a scar above his hairline. “Then how I get these stitches in my head?”

  I close my eyes, leaning my head back in my seat. He was sixteen, and thought his ass was grown. I had walked in on him and three of his friends up in his room, drinking and smoking weed and I went off. Instead of him apologizing, he tried to step to me like he was a grown-ass man, poppin’ a buncha shit. So since he wanted to show off in front of his niggahs, I gave ’em all a show. I snatched the bottle of Alize they’d been drinkin’ from off the dresser and went upside his head with it, knockin’ his ass out. He woke up in the hospital with a slight concussion and thirty-eight stitches to the head.

  He laughs. “Yo, Ma. You was dead wrong for that. And then you told ’em down at the hospital that I had gotten jumped.”

  I laugh with him. “Yup. I sure did. Shit, I didn’t feel like goin’ to jail that day. But I bet you didn’t try ’n talk shit to me again after that, either. Did you?”

  “Hell nah. Beetle ’n ’em still clown me about that shit ’til this day.”

  I shift in my seat, takin’ another pull from the blunt, then handin’ it back to him. Besides the fact that Beetle is one of the barbershop owners, and is one of his best friends, if he ever found out I sucked and fucked Beetle’s fat, juicy dick last summer, he’d be ready to kill his ass. They’ve been friends since sixth grade, and he spent many nights at our apartment. So he was like family. But, last summer, Beetle stepped to me all grown and sexy, talkin’ about how he’d been feelin’ me. And I quickly forgot his ass wasn’t no damn kin of mine and handled him. Whew, the sex was all that! And we fucked for about two months before I had to cut him off.

  “You know Beetle’s always askin’ about you. He keeps sayin’ he’s gonna stop by to see you.”

  I bet he does. That niggah’s probably still thinkin’ about this pussy and ass. I smile, passing the blunt back to him. “Tell him I said hi. I need to come down to the shop one of these days, soon.”

  “Yeah, you do.” He glances at his watch. “I gotta bounce. I’ma hear Shenille’s mouth. She stays snappin’ if I’m out too late.”

  I frown. “Tell that bitch to call me if she gotta problem.”

  He sucks his teeth, shakin’ his head. “See, Ma. Here you go.” He stands up, talkin’ one last pull from the blunt, then passing it to me. “I wish you’d try to get along with her.”

  I finish off the blunt, then stub it out in the ashtray, standin’ up. “Shenille’s a sneaky bitch, okay? You know how I feel bout sneaky bitches. And I’m not gonna be phony about it. But as long as she treats you right and she makes sure my grandbaby comes to spend time with me, then I won’t have to fuck her up.”

  He smiles. “Yo, Ma. I don’t know what I’ma do with you; you a real piece of work.” He hugs me, kissing me on the cheek. “But I wouldn’t trade you in for the world. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, niggah. And you know I’ll go to jail behind a bitch fuckin’ you over.” He laughs, shakin’ his head. I watch as he walks out, closin’ the door behind him. I roll another blunt, then smoke half of it before goin’ out to check on these kids. I quietly open the door and creep up on Elijah and Joshua fiddlin’ with their cell phones instead of doing homework. I go off. “Elijah! You supposed to be doing ya goddamn homework, not fuckin’ around on that phone. What I tell you about being on that phone when you have homework.” I snatch his phone outta his hand, then throw it across the room. It smashes into the wall.

  “Maaaaaaaaaaaa!” he shouts. “Why you do that? I am doin’ my homework. I’m almost done.”

  “I told you no phone unless all of ya school work is done, and that’s what I mean. And, Joshua, you ain’t no goddamn better. Give me ya damn phone, too.”

  “Awww, c’mon, Ma,” Joshua groans. “I’m helpin’ him. Isaiah, haven’t I been helpin’ you?”

  “Nope,” he lies, foldin’ his arms across his chest.

  I pop him upside the head. “Elijah, stop lyin’ on ya brother. And hurry up and get that damn work done. I can’t even unwind in peace around here.” I hold my hand out. “Give me ya phone, Joshua.”

  He sucks his teeth. “C’mon, Ma. I was only readin’ Day’Asia and Tina’s status updates on Facebook.”

  I frown. “What updates?”

  He smirks. “Clitina posted that she and Asia are on their way over to buildin’ four to chill with some dudes.”

  “What? All this time I thought her ass was in her room. Did she come home from school?”

  “I ain’t snitchin’,” he says, laughin’.

  “Boy, I don’t see shit funny.”

  Fuquan looks up from his Xbox game. “No, she ain’t come home. That ho needs to get her life together, too.”

  I am too through with his grown-ass, fresh-mouthed self. “What I tell you about callin’ your sister names?”

  He shrugs. “Well, she is.”

  I roll my eyes and tell Josh to call Day’Asia’s phone, then give it to me. “Yeah, what is it? Why is you sweatin’ me, niggah?”

  “Day’Asia, if I—”

  “Who’s this?”

  “What the fuck you mean, ‘who’s this?’ It’s your mother.”

  “Oh,” she says nonchalantly. “I thought you were locked up.”

  “Oh. And so thought that gave you the green light to just do whatever the fuck you want, hunh? You out tryna get your ho on tonight?” Fuquan falls out laughin’. I ignore his ass.

  She sucks her teeth. “No.”

  “Mmmnph. Then why the fuck you ain’t home?”

  “I caught the bus over to Tina’s so Miss Lina could do my hair.”

  I take a deep breath before I go off. “Day’Asia, if I gotta leave up outta this house to drive over to buildin’ four to get ya black ass, I’ma beat the shit outta you. So you better get the fuck home, now! You have fifteen minutes.” I disconnect the phone, stuffin’ it in my bra. Josh looks at me. “You’ll get it back when Elijah’s homework is finished.” He opens his mouth to say somethin’ else, but I stop him. “Say somethin’ else and I’ma smash this shit up against the wall next.” I tilt my head, darin’ him. “Just what I thought.”

  These damn kids know how to fuck up a damn high!

  Nineteen

  “Cass, we need to talk.”

  I frown, glancin’ at the clock. It’s midnight. This niggah has gotta be kidding me! “Isaiah, are you fuckin’ crazy? Do you see what time it is? If you wanna talk to me you shoulda called me earlier, at a decent damn time.”

  “I told lil’ Isaiah earlier to tell you to call me.”

  “Well, he did. And I didn’t feel like talkin’.”

  He sighs. “I wanna know what happened between you and LaQuandra down at the school today?”

  “Niggah, ask ya wife what happened. I’m sure she gave you an earful. She’s the bitch who came outta her face all sideways at me.”

  He lets out another breath. “This shit’s gotta stop between the two of you. Every goddamn time I turn around it’s somethin’. I’m sick of being in the middle of y’alls bullshit.”

  I sit up in bed. “What? Niggah, what you mean ‘y’all’s bullshit’? If you was so damn concerned about not being caught up in the middle of shit, then you shoulda kept ya damn dick in ya pants. But you didn’t. So don’t blame me because you can’t control that dog-faced bitch of yours. I don’t fuck with the bitch. That ho came at me, talkin’ about DYFS should be called on me. The bitch tried to say that shit Isaiah did down at the school was some shit he learned here when come to find out he found a box of porno in the back of one of the closets over there. That’s where the fuck he learned to tell some bitch to suck his dick. Not from over here, like that bitch tried to insinuate. So you make sure she knows that. Then the punk-ass bitch gets a restrainin’ order on me, like I’m some damn threat. That hateful bitch was the one who threatened to kill me.
”

  “Calm down, Cass, damn.”

  “Calm down hell, niggah. That bitch crossed the line. But it’s all good. You tell that—”

  I hear LaQuandra’s voice in the background. “Isaiah, who are you on the phone with?”

  “Cassandra,” he tells her. I grin, knowin’ that’s gonna set her off.

  Jealous bitch!

  “At this time of night? What the hell you gotta say to that crazy bitch at this hour of the night that can’t wait until tomorrow?”

  He musta covered the phone or placed me on mute ’cause now I can’t hear shit. I should fuck him for the hell of it, then call her ass to rub it in her face. Fuck with me, bitch!

  I met Isaiah—Baby Daddy Number Seven—when I was twenty-five. On one of the hottest days in August. And, of course a bitch like me didn’t make matters any better. I had on a pair of white booty shorts, a white gauzy-like blouse over a sexy white sequined bra and a pair of seven-inch red fuck me heels, cranking up the heat hotter than it already was. I had Joshua, who was ten months old, propped up on my hip, strutting across the campus to get over to the Student Center. I had gotten my GED a few months prior and was feelin’ really good about myself. With seven kids, I was takin’ two college courses, and you couldn’t tell me shit. I was gonna be a nurse one day. Or work with kids, maybe.

  But shit happens, and dreams get pushed aside. And then you find ya’self layed up with another niggah, knocked up again. Isaiah was that niggah. Anyway, he and some other niggahs were sittin’ out on benches when I walked by. Of course, they started catcallin’ and whistling. Yes, I knew what I was doing when I wore the skimpy outfit. Shit, I loved the attention. Still, I paid ’em no mind. Well, that is until this caramel-skinned niggah walked up beside me wearing a cut-off shirt and basketball shorts with a basketball up under his arm. I quickly sized him up. He was tall just how I liked ’em, had three tats, and was a real smooth talker.

  I gave him my number. Two weeks later we were fuckin’. Problem was the niggah failed to mention two things. One, that he was only twenty; and, two, that he was already married—to LaQuandra. They had been married for almost a year. But by the time I found out, it was too late. I was already pregnant. I woulda had an abortion. But, he begged me to keep it. Said he didn’t believe in abortions. I didn’t either. Shit, I had enough babies to prove it.