by L. Divine
“Okay, baby. It’s going to be okay,” he says, wiping my brow with a cold towel and watching the midwife check me out. He offers me ice chips, but I just want this to be over.
“It’s time to push, Jayd,” the midwife says, smiling up at me. “The next time you feel a contraction, push down as hard as you can.”
“Like you’re having a bowel movement,” my mom says from her mind to mine even though she’s in the room with us all. I guess she doesn’t want to embarrass me, but it feels like that’s exactly what I’m supposed to do. I bear down and push as hard as I can, causing my husband’s hand as much pain as I can in the process. Mr. A isn’t complaining, like a good husband.
“Jayd, don’t be afraid,” Mama says, holding my left hand tightly and helping me stay focused on the goal, which is to push this baby out of me. “Trust your body to do what it does naturally. Stay calm and push.” Taking both of my mothers’ advice, I bear down and push again with all my might.
“Ogunlabi!” I yell at the shear thrust of the baby’s head making its way into the world. “I can’t take any more,” I say, ready to give up. It’s been a long, hard labor and I’m not sure that I can take any more, but I have to because we’re not done yet.
“Jayd Jackson Adewale, bring our daughter into the world,” my husband says, urging me to keep pushing. With him and Mama supporting me, I give it one more push and finally deliver my baby.
“It’s a girl!” Netta, acting as the midwife, says, handing Mama the baby to clean off and look over before passing our daughter to me. Mama then replaces Netta as the midwife, cutting the cord and getting ready to prep the afterbirth for the spiritual ritual all babies in our religion receive, whether they have a caul or not, which my daughter clearly has.
“Look at her eyes,” I say, staring at my daughter’s green eyes looking back at me in amazement. “She’s got our sight in more ways than one.”
“I think we should name her after Maman,” Mama says, allowing Netta to finish cleaning me up so Netta can hold Mama’s great-grandbaby. “Marie Jayd Williams Adewale.”
“I like the sound of that,” I say, handing Mama the baby to give to Netta. Mr. Adewale hasn’t held our daughter yet, and is apparently okay with that. He already knows how we women get down in the Williams clan, and wouldn’t have it any other way. I repeat our daughter’s name and suddenly wake up.
“What happened?” I say to Jeremy, who’s looking at me like I just farted loudly in my sleep. It wouldn’t be the first time, although he’s never complained before. There’s enough of that to go around for both of us.
“Jayd Adewale, huh?” Jeremy says, throwing the covers off us both before rising to his feet. Oh shit. I must’ve been talking in my sleep again. I hate when that happens, especially if the witness isn’t Mama.
“It was just a dream,” I say, rising with him, still sluggish. But Jeremy’s too pissed for reason this morning. “I can’t be held accountable for shit that happens when I’m unconscious.” I look around, noticing the sun’s rising, but it’s still too early for us to be up, and on a Friday, too.
“The unconscious speaks volumes about what it is that you really want, and who.” Jeremy’s visibly hurt by this predawn revelation, but so off I can’t even begin to explain it.
“Jeremy, that may be true in Freud’s world, but my dreams mean a lot more than that. Wait, that didn’t sound right,” I say, realizing I’m not making the situation any better. “What I mean is that my dreams are messages, Jeremy, and since I’m not the one pregnant, I don’t think it was about me at all.”
“Whatever, Jayd. I’ve got to get going.” Jeremy slips on his Birkenstocks, unlocks the various bolts and chains on my mom’s front door and leaves, slamming the door shut behind him. Damn, this is not a good way to start our morning, but it’s here so I’ll have to deal with it—and he’s not getting off that easy. I slip on my sandals, open the front door and run down the stairs, catching Jeremy in the driveway.
“Jeremy, I keep having these dreams and I can’t control them. I’m sorry you have to witness them sometimes, but there’s nothing I can do. It’s a part of my gift, Jeremy.” He turns around at the end of the driveway, facing me. Jeremy looks so pissed he could punch a wall.
“I know that, Jayd,” he says, cooling down a bit but not completely. “It’s just a reaction, like your spontaneous dreams about other guys.” It’s not exactly the same thing, but I feel where he’s coming from.
“Jeremy, I’m learning how to control my visions, but it’s going to take some time,” I say, walking up to him and holding his hands. Thank God summer’s around the corner, providing warmer mornings. Otherwise we’d both catch a cold in the early morning chill. I’m trying to keep my voice low because most of my neighbors are still sleeping. There are a couple of lights on in the surrounding apartments, but most people don’t rise until after the sun’s completely up.
“So you’re telling me that this dream is a result of you being a voodoo priestess? How does one have anything to do with the other?” Jeremy’s blue eyes are sincere and I want to be able to tell him everything, but I don’t know how or if I can.
I look down at Jeremy’s ashy knuckles, caressing them with my thumbs. How can I make him understand my gifts? I lead him back toward the stairway to my mom’s apartment and he follows. This is not a conversation I want to continue outside. Even if it is the wee hours of the morning, the walls around here have ears. I wouldn’t be surprised if my next-door neighbor and client, Shawntrese, is listening at the door.
Once inside, we sit down on the cozy couch and face each other. I look into his eyes, focusing on the strain I feel coming from his mind, cooling his thoughts and allowing him to come to his own conclusion rather than influencing his mind.
“Every woman in my lineage has a gift of sight,” I say, still locked onto his eyes. “My great-grandmother could cripple someone with her thoughts. My grandmother can use anyone’s thoughts to her advantage. My mother lost her gift of sight, which was to cool a person’s mind and make them see her point of view,” I say, feeling his mind bend toward a clearer understanding of what I’m saying. “And my gift of sight comes in the form of dreams, Jeremy. Crazy, unpredictable, and mostly volatile dreams that I have no control over yet, but I’m working on it.” I release my hold on Jeremy’s vision, allowing him to adjust to the load I just laid on him.
“Wow, that’s the second time I’ve felt like I had a brain freeze without drinking anything cold. What the hell?” he says, borrowing my coined phrase.
“Okay, now I have another confession to make,” I say, scooting a little closer to him. I hope he stays chill after I tell him I’ve tapped into his mind. “That cold feeling is the aftereffect of me relaxing your mind,” I say, Jeremy’s eyes again locked onto mine. “I retained my mom’s lost powers in one of my dreams and have been learning how to use them ever since.”
“Really?” he asks, more fascinated than angry. “Can you read my mind?”
“No, not at all,” I laugh, realizing he’s curious about my lineage. I’m grateful he’s not angry with me for not telling him the truth sooner. “We can’t do anything to or for a person without his or her consent. And I never use my sight for evil. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but it’s not something I share.”
“But I never gave you permission to enter my mind.”
“Not verbally, but when I look into your eyes your mind submits to my visual request, allowing me to tap into your emotions and cool you off, like now.” Jeremy looks like he doesn’t believe me and that’s okay. I know it will take time for him to adjust, much like it did Rah and Nigel when I first told them about my dreams in junior high. Whether or not they believe me is irrelevant. The most important thing is that we remain friends without judgment.
“So Mr. Adewale’s not your dream guy?” Jeremy asks, bringing the conversation full circle.
“No, baby,” I say, slightly untruthful in my words, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“You’re all I need, and I’m sorry my dream made you upset. But, baby, sometimes you can’t let your jealousy get the best of you,” I say, now hugging my man. It feels good being honest with him, even if he doesn’t believe it all.
“Jayd, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Hey, if I was a girl I’d probably think Mr. Adewale was cute, too,” Jeremy says jokingly. I playfully punch him in the thigh. “Hey, I’m just saying.”
“Don’t even play like that, Jeremy.” He looks at me and kisses me gently, truly forgiving me and I him. Now this is the way to wake up and get this morning started right. “Let’s get up, baby. It’s still a school day,” I say, feeling the heat of the sun’s rays on my back through the blinds.
“Don’t remind me,” he says, unwillingly rising from the couch. “See you at school, babe.” He exits the apartment again, leaving me to get ready for our day. That was a crazy dream, and what’s worse is that I’ve retained some of the back pain and cramps from my fantasy labor. I hope Mickey’s ready, because from the small taste I got, labor is not going to be easy.
Finally, Friday is here and the school day is almost over. I’ve never been so happy to see a weekend come. My plan is to get my braid on today after school. I’m working four hours at Netta’s and then I’ve got two heads to braid when I get back to Inglewood. It’s going to be a late night, but well worth it.
Now let’s see how well I handle this cheer schedule. Starting with the pre-football season, we practice four days a week with games on Friday. With the majority of the practice during sixth period gym class, it’s not so bad. It’s the Friday games Mama’s not going to like, and me neither. That’s one of my busiest shop days, and I’m going to miss the money. In the meantime, I’d better enjoy my Fridays while I can.
“Let’s get it started, ladies,” Alicia says, calling the new and old cheer squad members together in the gym. We line up in four rows, ready to get our dance on. This is way better than weight lifting class.
“Look to your right and to your left. Then look in front of you and behind you. These are your sisters for the next year. Welcome, ladies,” Shauna says, officially introducing us to one another for the first time. I look in all four directions and notice that with the exception of myself and one other younger sister in the freshman line, there are no other girls of any color on next year’s squad. That shit is crazy, but I guess Mr. Adelizi will be glad to know I made the cut. The colleges should be very happy to know that I can play their game and win.
“So, let’s get started on our first routine, which we will perform at the final pep rally for the year in a couple of weeks,” Alicia says. “This will be your formal introduction to the rest of the campus. So get it right, ladies, and give it your all!”
Shauna, Alicia, and the other veteran cheerleaders run from the sidelines into the middle of the gymnasium floor, flipping and kicking as high as they can. They didn’t say being an acrobat was a requirement. Are they always this excited? It’s like they’ve each had two Red Bulls and coffee before coming to practice. I hope that’s not a requirement. I had enough coffee to last me a lifetime when studying for the AP exams, though I do miss the study group. We’re supposed to start up again in the summer to study for the SATs, and I am so grateful to again be included. Lord knows I need all the help I can get.
“Jayd, step out and show us what you’ve got,” Shauna says, pushing Play on her iPod as the music blares loudly through the gymnasium’s mega speakers. It’s cool that I get to finish out cheer as my PE elective even if I don’t officially start until the fall. I could learn to love the perks of being in the cheerleaders and athletes clique, even if I never thought I’d be a part of this crew. Before I can get my grove on, Nellie, Laura, Misty, and the rest of the ASB bitch crew walk in and take a seat in the bleachers. Some of the athletes, including Nigel, KJ, and his crew also join us. I didn’t know practice was open to the public, but I guess I’d better get used to people watching me dance.
“Jayd, routine,” Shauna asks again, and this time, I’m on it.
I step away from the varsity line, ready to get my groove on when Chance, Mickey, and Jeremy step into the gym. Damn, more spectators. Did everyone hear the music? I begin the first part of the routine, expertly matching the beat in one of my favorite old school songs. The senior cheerleaders look at me and smile, impressed with their teaching skills and my natural ability to dance.
“Push it real good, Jayd,” KJ yells from the bleachers. Chance and Jeremy both look up and shoot him a look, but KJ couldn’t care less. He’s a star basketball player and knows we’ll see way too much of each other now that I have practice at the same time as him and will accompany the teams to games and all of the other social duties that come with being a cheerleader. But I do have to admit, this part is fun.
“Sarah, Lindsay, Molly, and Rachel. Jump in on eight,” Shauna says, directing two of the other girls on the varsity squad to join in the routine. They catch it on the beat, but are less enthusiastic in their dancing than I am, and Shauna notices. “You’re too tight, ladies! Loosen up!” The girls begin to move more, but still look stiff as boards compared to me. A lot of the moves are too sensual for them, I can tell. But none of them are too sexual, unlike some of the cheer moves I’ve seen at the high schools in my hood. Some of those girls might as well have sex right then and there the way they dance during half time.
“All right, ladies,” Alicia says at the end of the first routine. “Now it’s time to learn a new cheer. Get back in line and pick up your pom-poms. This is what it’s all about.” I wipe the sweat from my brow and wave at my man, who’s smiling from ear to ear. Jeremy was shocked when I first told him about trying out, but I know he likes what he sees. Nellie and her associated student bitches, on the other hand, look as sour as lemons. Whatever.
“Okay, ladies. Just like in tryouts, when your captain calls out ‘ready’ you respond with ‘okay’ and a loud clap, got it?” Shauna says, shouting at the top of her lungs. We nod our heads, ready for our cue. “We’re going to start with a basic offense cheer we use at every game to get our teams hyped. Ready?”
“Okay!” we shout, but it’s Mickey who responds the loudest.
“Oh shit,” Mickey yells from her seat in the bleachers, standing up and looking down. “I think my water just broke.”
“I got you, baby,” Nigel says, taking Mickey by the elbow and escorting her out of the gym.
“That’s just gross,” Laura says, turning her nose up at the natural sight. We all look toward the door, Nellie included. I look at Shauna and back at my friend, knowing what I have to do.
“I need to be with her,” I say, turning in my pom-poms. The other girls look at me like I’ve lost my mind, leaving the first practice—but what can I say? My goddaughter’s birth trumps pom-poms any day.
“Go ahead, Jayd. You can catch up on Monday,” Shauna says. She’s cool as hell. Too bad she’s graduating. Otherwise I think we could’ve become real good friends.
“Nigel, wait up. I’m coming with y’all,” I say, running over to the bleachers and grabbing Mickey’s backpack before catching up to my friends. Jeremy and Chance follow me out of the gymnasium, all of us running toward our cars.
“Jayd, I can’t go to the hospital with you, baby. I’ve got plans with my brothers after school,” Jeremy says. “And I don’t think it’s my place anyway.” What he’s not saying is that he doesn’t want to run into Rah, the baby’s godfather, who he knows will be there by the time we arrive.
“Okay, baby. I’ll call you later,” I say, giving him a quick kiss before running to the main lot where my car is parked. I need to call my clients and let them know I won’t be able to make it today, after I call Mama and Netta, of course. I can’t believe she’s finally coming. It feels like we’ve been waiting for Nickey Shantae to make her appearance forever, and now the day is here.
Poor Mickey. She’s been in labor for several hours with barely any progress. It looks like it’s going to be a long night, a
nd Mickey and Nigel are prepared, with playing cards and plenty of hard candy for Mickey to suck on since she can’t eat anything. I know she’s in hell, but she’s being a good sport so far.
It’s been difficult seeing Rah all evening, too. I haven’t talked to him since the run-in with Sandy’s parole officer. I’m not mad at him as much as I’m tiring of his bull, and he knows it, too. Rah’s been trying to talk to me since we arrived, but I’ve been busy with Mickey. Nellie’s ignoring me and that’s fine with me. She’s a trip and a half, but as long as she’s here for Mickey, I’m cool. Rah and I are waiting in the hallway outside of Mickey’s room while Nigel and Mickey talk with the doctor about her labor’s progression. Nellie and Chance made a coffee run. I guess she’s talking to her gold toothed man again, but I’m not sure if Chance is feeling Nellie like he used to.
“So you are going to ignore me all night?” Rah asks, standing next to me. He smells good as usual, this time sporting Egyptian musk oil as his fragrance of choice, and it’s working for him.
“Rah, I’m not ignoring you as much as I’m trying to keep my distance. Until you learn to respect my man, we can’t chill like we used to.” I look up at Rah and roll my eyes at his smiling ass. He’s so full of himself it’s ridiculous.
“Jayd, stop pushing me away. You know you want me right here,” Rah says, breathing so close to me that we could share the same pulse. I swore I would never let him get this close to me again.
“No, Rah. I don’t want you all up in my personal space. I share it with someone else now,” I say, stepping away from him, but he doesn’t let me go too far.
“Who, Jeremy?” Rah asks, flicking my gold bracelet hard with his right index finger, similar to the way Jeremy touched my ankh charm when he found out it was from Rah. I think they’d both rip them off and burn them if they could.
