by L. Divine
“Make your parts a little thinner, Jayd. We want to get her hot oil into as many nooks and crannies as possible.” Mama smiles and without answering, continues to read the article on Barack Obama. Mama loves her some Barack, and so does every other female I know, with the exception of Mrs. Peterson. But she doesn’t like anyone, especially not an educated black Democrat like him. Netta reaches into one of the drawers at her station and hands me a thin-handled comb with a golden point at the end for making precise parts. I need one of these in my collection.
“I see you like that comb,” Mama says without looking up. At least she’s talking to me.
“Yeah, she’s a beauty,” I say, talking about our tools like Rah talks about cars. The right comb can make or break any hairstyle, braids included. This may just be the missing link to a more perfect braid pattern. “Netta, where’d you get this comb from?” I ask Netta, who’s now in the back of the shop.
“Ask your grandmother. It’s hers.” Mama again looks at me through the mirror and smiles. “Jayd, after you put Lynn Mae under the dryer, I need you to come back here and fill these vials with essential oils, please.” Work, work, always work. I miss the days I would accompany Mama on her faithful Tuesday visits to Netta’s Never Nappy Beauty Shop and just listen to the two of them talk. But now that I’m Netta’s sole employee, all of that’s in the past.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say as I gently massage the oil into Mama’s scalp. Maybe I can relax her enough so that the truth will just slip right out of her. “So, where’d you get this fancy comb?” I ask, referring to the pretty comb now back in its drawer.
“My mother gave it to me. It was her mother’s and I assume her mother’s before her.”
“Well, why do you keep it here instead of at home?” I continue rubbing her scalp, noticing all of the many grooves in her head. The spirit book says that no two heads are the same and I’m learning that for myself the more clients I gain.
“Because it is for my scalp only, and yours if you get your head done by anyone else. But because you do your own hair you don’t need it yet.”
“Really? What’s so special about it?” I look at the simple, white comb with the gold handle and marvel at its strength. To have survived many tumultuous Williams women’s generations it has to be made of something special.
“Well, first of all there’s no other comb like it. It’s made out of pure bone and gold, making it very valuable in more ways than one.” Mama turns her head around and looks me in the eye, her eyes glowing. What’s she looking for now?
“What kind of bone?” I ask, almost afraid of the answer. I know Mama doesn’t get down like Esmeralda now, but her past is still a mystery to me.
“Why are you so inquisitive today, Jayd? What is it that you really want to ask me?” There’s no use in beating around the bush with Mama. She can read my intentions like a book and with the way she’s looking at me now, I feel wide open.
“Bryan mentioned something about Misty coming by Esmeralda’s for New Year’s.” Mama turns her head back around, allowing me to continue with my work.
“Yes, she and her mother are now a part of Esmeralda’s house, or spiritual lineage. And as her godchildren, they also serve as her only family, since she has no relatives that I know of.” I take out the brush that matches her comb, noticing the intricately detailed pattern on the back. Where have I seen this before?
“So now she’s spending holidays with her?” All I need is more Misty time to make me go completely over the edge.
“Yes, Jayd. You were blessed enough to be born into a house with an active godmother like myself, even if sometimes you don’t act like it. But when you’re alone, like Esmeralda, you latch on to the people who latch on to you. And in this case, Esmeralda, Misty, and her mama have become each other’s family.”
“But don’t they know how evil Esmeralda is? And doesn’t she know how evil they are?” Mama looks up at me again and frowns.
“Jayd, some people want nothing more than to be loved, and will go through all types of extremes to get it. Others simply want three things out of life: money, power, and respect, and Esmeralda happens to be one of those people. If she can find a way to use someone to get those things, she will.” Mama gets up from the chair and walks over to the blow dryer, ready to relax for another fifteen minutes while the oil sets into her scalp. Then she’ll get her head washed by Netta, who’ll take care of the rest too.
I begin to put up the special hot oil for Mama and accidentally knock over something sitting in the corner of Netta’s station. “Damn it,” I say under my breath, but Mama and Netta both hear me.
“Watch it, young lady,” Mama says.
“I’m sorry. I just knocked over this thing, but I don’t think it broke,” I say, retrieving the metal rooster with bells hanging around it. I’ve seen one in the spirit room, but I don’t know what it’s for. But whatever it is has both of them up in arms.
“Jayd, we need to do a cleansing on you before you go home, chile. You must have a lot of negative energy around you to make this fall. If you don’t act now, you’ll be paralyzed before the week’s out,” Netta says, shutting the blinds to the shop and pulling the drapes. I can always count on Netta to be melodramatic about something simple.
“And I’m going to do a reading on you right now to see if there’s anything else we need to do.” Mama gets up from Netta’s station and heads to the back where the shrine is located. “Netta, you can start on her head. I’ll open up the cowries.” I don’t have time for this today. I already feel overwhelmed enough as it is, and the last thing I need is more work to do.
“Jayd, what have I told you about sassing Mama, even in your mind?”
“Mom, not now.”
“It’s never a good time but it’s always the right time, little miss. Now, get over yourself and let them help you.”
“Jayd, come on over here and let me get you settled, girl.” Netta lights a cigar and breathes the smoke all over my head while chanting in Yoruba, one of the many languages of our ancestors. She then leads me to the back, where Mama is throwing the shells. She directs me to sit on the mat next to my grandmother, who is also speaking in Yoruba. Mama opens the reading and begins to speak to me.
“According to the shells, your best friend is also your worst enemy.” Well I didn’t need the orisha, the ancestors, to tell me that. I could’ve saved Mama the twenty minutes and gave her all of the info she needed by telling her about my past two days at school.
“Which one: Nellie or Misty?” Mama looks up at me and crinkles her nose like she always does when she’s trying to read me. She picks up the four small pieces of coconut shell and throws them on the mat without disturbing the cowries.
“Neither.” Now, I wasn’t expecting that. “You’re in the eye of the storm, Jayd. You’ll need to make a sacrifice to clear yourself of the impending danger around you.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Netta adds. She looks at the shells, seeming to recognize the combination of the sixteen cowries spread across the bamboo mat. “And it came up negative, so that means you’ve really got to work hard to keep yourself free from this mess, and I have the perfect sacrifice for you to make.” Netta practically leaps across the room to her spirit book and flips through the hefty thing until she finds what she’s looking for. “Clear flow. That’s what you need in your life, girl. This will keep you moving safely through a hurricane if you do it right.”
“It saved me many a day,” Mama says, collecting the cowries and coconut shells and placing them back in their leather pouch before returning them to Netta’s shrine. I glance up at the velvet picture of the woman at the river, on the wall behind the shrine, and see the woman again looking at me through her reflection in the water. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the interactive portrait.
“Here’s what you need to do, Jayd,” Netta says, bringing the heavy book to me. “You will need to prepare the following herbs and bathe with them tonight. When you’re done, take
a strainer, remove the stopper in the tub and collect as many of the herbs as you can while the water goes down the drain.”
“The ones that you catch must be contained in a mason jar and disposed of in a river, stream, lake, or whatever natural body of fresh water you can find the next day, along with a petition written to Oshune,” Mama adds.
“Will the ocean do?” I ask, thinking I can take care of it on my way to school in the morning.
“I said fresh water, Jayd. Mama Oshune is the one you are petitioning and she’s over every other body of water. The ocean belongs to the orishas Yemoja and Olokun, but those are lessons for another day. Now, copy your cleansing ritual down and me and Netta will get back to my hair.”
“But wait,” I say as they leave the room. “Where am I going to find fresh water near Compton?”
“I don’t know, but you have to trust your instincts. Oh, and wear white for the next three days, too. Now get to work. You have to clean the shop before we leave.” Mama has no mercy on me.
After I finished my bath last night, I followed all of the instructions and now I’m looking up fresh bodies of water to toss my offering in. I had to wrap the jar up tight in a shirt to make sure it doesn’t break throughout the course of the day. Luckily, my pink jacket makes my all-white clothing look somewhat normal, but not enough for some nosy folks. I’m going to stay out of the limelight until Friday when I can return to wearing other colors. Before I can get too into my research my phone rings. The librarian was already sweating me hard because of my bright attire; now I know she’s going to freak out because of my cell.
“Hello,” I whisper into the phone.
“What up, girl? Where you been hiding?” Rah asks as I try to talk to him quietly.
“Oh, nowhere. Just getting back into the swing of things. I’m looking up something in the library. Can I call you back in a few?”
“Fo sho. But make sure you call me back. I’ve got to talk to you about court next week.”
“Okay, I will.” Right as the librarian makes her way over to me, Jeremy walks in and catches my eye. Damn, he’s a breath of fresh air even if I still need to holla at him about his report. But it’ll have to wait until after I’m done with my mission at hand.
“You know there are no cell phones allowed in here, Miss Jackson,” the old lady says, her voice trembling, like she’s afraid to talk to me but more afraid of not enforcing the rules. It must be a bitch working for the system.
“I know and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“Well, consider this your warning.” Jeremy walks up behind her and makes bunny ears over her head before she turns around and frowns up at him, too.
“Hey, Mrs. Pace. What’s up?”
“Mr. Weiner,” she says before walking back to her desk. Are all of the teachers up here in a perpetual bad mood or what?
“Hey, Jayd. What’s up with you? And why are you wearing all white again?” he asks before reaching down to pull out the chair at the empty computer station next to mine.
“Oh, it’s to help me feel better,” I say, not wanting to give him the full explanation just yet. And he’s learned not to press any further when it comes to some of my ways.
“What’s wrong with you?” Where do I begin?
“Oh, just dealing with a lot of other people’s drama. But right now I need to find a fresh body of water before the day’s out and I’m having no such luck.”
“Well, I know of a spot. I can take you there after school if you want.” Why didn’t I ask him before? If anyone knows of all the hideaway spots around here, it’s Jeremy.
“Yeah, I’d like that very much. But you have to promise not to make fun of what I do when I get there,” I say, ready to head to third period with him.
“Sure thing, Lady J. I’ve got your back, you know that.” And that, I do.
It’s a nice day to take a drive up the 405 freeway. I wasn’t sure if my car would make it to our destination, so I allow Jeremy to take me to his fresh-water spot, which ends up being in Long Beach. Now that I can drive I need to get out and explore more. I had no idea there were beautiful lakes like this one not too far from my hood.
“Wow, how did you find this place?” I ask, exiting his car and following him to the water.
“Much exploration with much time on my hands, young one,” he says, sounding like a pseudo samurai warrior. It’s the most beautiful lake I’ve ever seen. As many times as I’ve been to Long Beach, I never knew about this park.
“It’s perfect, Jeremy,” I say, looking down at my backpack. “Well, no time like the present.” I unzip my bag and take out the mason jar full of herbs.
“What’s that?” Jeremy asks. His eyes focus on my hands as I unwrap the glass jar and put the shirt back in my bag, ready to symbolically rid myself of the weight I’m carrying. I shake the contents of the jar and glance at my petition, carefully folded inside. I pray that Oshune answers my prayers. I wrote down on that piece of paper everything I could think of that needs fixing and it still wasn’t enough, but it’ll have to do for now.
“My sacrifice,” I say, looking around to make sure we don’t have any spectators. The ducks on the other side of the lake don’t seem interested in what we’re doing at all. I guess the breadcrumbs someone left behind for them are much more captivating. I wish a similar distraction would work for Misty’s nosy ass.
“Jayd, what the hell are you talking about?” Okay, he’s messing up my flow and I need to be in the right state of mind for this to work.
“Jeremy, too many questions. Would you mind leaving me alone so I can get this done? I’ll only be a moment.” Jeremy looks at me sideways then back at the jar in my hands. Without saying another word, he leaves me at the waterside to do my thing.
I take out the chant I copied from Netta’s spirit book and memorize it quickly. Apparently I need to keep my eyes on the jar until it’s completely submerged in the water. Then I have to walk backwards to the car while still chanting the prayer. Here goes nothing.
“Keep it moving, keep it flowing, Oshune my mother, all-knowing. Legba, Legba, make the path clear and open the roads with my prayers for Oshune to hear.” I release the jar into the calm waters, waiting for it to sink, but something’s keeping it from moving. It sits still in the water, almost in the same place where I dropped it. I look around to make sure no one’s watching and notice Jeremy half-asleep in his Mustang, and I’m grateful. The last thing I need is an audience. I step slightly into the water to help the jar along its way.
“Damn it,” I say, pissed that my sneakers are getting wet. These are the only pair I have and they have to last me until my birthday, which is three months from now. I repeat the chant as the directions say, but cursing between refrains wasn’t part of the plan if I recall correctly.
“What the hell?” This thing just won’t sink. This can’t be a good sign.
“Sometimes you have to be more active in your cleansings than others,” my mother says. “Pick it up and throw it as hard as you can. Get it as close to the middle as possible, Jayd. Then it’ll sink for sure.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I reach into the water again, this time stepping even farther to retrieve the floating jar. As I grasp the glass, I catch my reflection in the water as if looking into a moving mirror. My white bandana overshadows my facial features, which fade into the background with the rest of the image. I have the strangest feeling of déjà vu but I know it’s more than that. I continue looking into the reflection and my image changes in the still water. Now I’m the woman in the picture above Netta’s shrine.
“Don’t get caught up in the vision, Jayd. Throw the damned jar and keep moving!” My mom’s voice shakes me to my core and the vision of Maman crawling on the ground toward Mama as a baby comes into my mind and consequently into the reflection in the water. I hold on to the jar, mimicking Maman’s movements precisely when she crawled away from my great-grandfather, who was trying to kill her. The vision’s too powerful for me to focus on my t
ask at hand, but I manage to throw the jar far enough and watch it finally sink away.
“Jayd, are you okay?” Jeremy asks, snapping me out of the dangerous memory and back into the present.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just got a little wet,” I say, shaking more from the vision than the chill the wind is giving me.
“Come on. I have some towels in the car.” I follow Jeremy back to his car, ready to get home. That was some scary shit.
“Yes it was,” my mom says, checking back in.
“Mom, what was that?”
“I don’t know. That was the strangest thing I’ve seen you go through yet. I just hope your offering was accepted. Otherwise, you’ll have more work to do to get whatever this is off you, so you can move forward. The last thing you want is to be caught up in some mess that isn’t yours to begin with.”
Whatever’s going on, I’m going to get to the bottom of it and get me out of harm’s way, come hell or high water. I may not have the money or influence that Nellie’s new crew has, but I possess a lineage with the kind of power that goes beyond physical limitations. And that’s the only thing I’m counting on to get me out of this twisted reality I didn’t create.
9
The Matrix
“So if you all keep on doing what you all are doing/
You will end up, up up in jail.”
—HORACE ANDY
It’s my first day out of whites and I’m ready to take on whatever’s coming my way, or so I think. Already the day’s been full of drama. I’m not looking forward to the meeting with Nigel, Mickey, and Mrs. Bennett, but it’s inevitable. At least it’s during fourth period, Mrs. Bennett’s planning time. She and the assistant principal are really tight, and he does pretty much whatever she says. Must be nice to have that kind of power when it benefits your cause.
