Shortie Like Mine

by Ni-Ni Simone

  “Make it do what it do!” Cousin Shake yelled from behind our bedroom door.

  “Fat Mama!” Man-Man pounded like 5-O. “Wake ... yo’ ... big butt ... jelly roll ... on the pole ... roach-lookin’ self up! And tell two dollar lil’ Kim to get up, too!”

  “Toi,” I growled, turning my head toward my sister’s bed. “I’ma kill ’im.”

  “Retardos!” Man-Man banged again. “The special ed bus outside!”

  “Make it do what it do, now!” Cousin Shake said as if he were waiting for a response. “Fat Mama and Toi, is ya dead? Answer me!” He pounded. “Let Cousin Shake know if ya dead so I’ll know what to tell yo’ mama when she calls and wanna know why y’all ain’t up yet. Po’ mama, out there workin’ the graveyard shift at the phone company and y’all around here makin’ tricks of yourselves. This exactly why I don’t think ya need to be going out anyway. If it was up to me, you’d have supper by five and be in the bed by eight! You might be foolin’ ya mama, but I can see right through ya, out there gyratin’ ya’selves for a buncha ex-convicts. That’s right, I said it ex ... con ... victs. Now, get up fo’ I call the law on ya! Y’all gon’ get some education ’round here!”

  “In case you didn’t know”—I snatched the door open—“I fight old people.”

  “Anytime, anyplace, lil’ girl, ’cause the day you hit me is the day I’m gon’ teach you what rock and roll is all about. Now, get ready for school, fo’ Cousin Shake have to handle you.”

  “Calm down, Cousin Shake.” Man-Man had a smug look on his face. “You ain’t got to deal with this. I’m just gon’ tell Mommy on ’em!”

  All I could do was roll my eyes and slam the door in their face. “Toi, I swear I can’t stand them. Why did Cousin Shake have to come here to live after his wife died? God, he gets on my nerves!”

  I started rummaging through my closet for something to wear. “Toi!” I called, realizing she didn’t answer me. “Toi!!” Still no answer. As I walked over to her bed, I heard a knock at my bedroom window. I pulled the curtains back and there she was, gawkin’ at me with a cheesy smile about a mile wide. “You ... must be ... stupid!” I opened the window to let her in. “Mommy told you the next time she even hears about you sneaking in through the window, she was gon’ put bars on it, and I’m sorry sistah girl, but I’m not tryna be in jail.”

  “Nobody said you had to be in jail.” She fell from the window to the floor. “All in my business!”

  “Ah un rudeness.” I couldn’t believe this. “Are those words I hear comin’ out the side of yo’ neck?! ’Cause I swear on all the love I have for Bow Wow, honey dip, I will rock you to sleep. Know what? I’m just gon’ tell Mommy ’cause I’m tired of this.”

  “What you mean, tell Mommy? You want us both to be on lockdown? If you do that, you know she not gon’ wanna hear about you going to no more parties, no more staying up late, and you know the phone’ll be comin’ outta here.”

  I hated it when she made sense. “I’m getting real sick of you. You gon’ mess around and get into some trouble you can’t get out of.” I started rummaging through my closet for school clothes again. “And I hope you had some sleep, because Cousin Shake’s disability kicked in, so he stopped working at Wal-Mart. And his miserable self is here all day, looking for a reason to scream on us. Besides, school just started and you’ve already skipped like five times. And if you do it again, Mommy is gon’ flip and that will be on you and not on me.” I pulled out a pair of tight Baby Phat jeans, a hot pink tee with “The definition of fresh” written in rhinestones across the front, pink bangles, and matching hoop earrings. “You need to tell Qua to stop keeping you out all night.”

  “Okay, Mother,” she remarked sarcastically. “And for your information, I planned on going to school today.”

  “You need to go everyday. Keep it up and you won’t be graduating.”

  “Anywho, since when Cousin Shake stop working at Wal-Mart?”

  “Since I started minding my business,” he yelled through the door.

  Toi and I looked at each other and fell out laughing.

  Before Qua came along, I loved being around my sister. We were fraternal twins and we used to be best friends until her taboo boyfriend came along.

  Word on the street is that he’s a street pharmacist, which is part of the reason my sister is draped in Purple labels and Bebe all the time. I haven’t said anything about it, because I don’t want Toi to flip on me. But I know if my mother ever hears wind of this, it’ll be the end of these two as we know it.

  And to make matters worse, my mother doesn’t know he’s twenty. Toi lied and told her he was eighteen and attended Essex County College. He used to come around until Cousin Shake started yelling, “Take cover!” every time he walked through the door.

  Now, Toi goes over to his place and spends every waking moment she can with him. He has a small house he flipped over on Nye and there’ve been plenty of times I’ve seen girls coming in and out of his spot, a few of them even riding around with him in his car. Once, I told Toi what he was doing and peep this, homegirl went right back and told him exactly what I said. Every freakin’ word. And after he lied and made her think I was hatin’ on her, who did Toi accuse of making things up? Me. Not Qua. But me. I was pissed and from that moment on, I swore she would never hear another word about Ghetto Charming from these divafied lips.

  “I got bathroom first!” I ran out the room, leaving her sitting on the bed, still laughing at Cousin Shake.

  By the time I was showered, dressed, and back in the room, she was under the covers sleeping. “You better get up,” I snapped, spraying oil sheen in my hair.

  “I got cramps,” she said groggily.

  “You should’ve had cramps last night. Come on, Toi, I’m not doing any more work for you.”

  “Then don’t,” she snapped. “Go. I’ll meet you there.” She turned over and buried her head beneath the pillow.

  “Whatever.” I looked in the mirror and applied my MAC lip gloss. “If you want Qua to pimp you the rest of your life, then you do boo. ’Cause if you keep acting like this, I won’t have to tell Mommy—you’ll be forced to. Stupid!” Before I left, I snatched the covers off her.

  “What took you so long, Bubble Butt?!” Man-Man said, sitting at the table finishing up his grits.

  “He’s the only respectable one ’round here.” Cousin Shake patted my brother on the head. I started to say something but watching Cousin Shake’s pants rise up his butt was better than thinking of a sarcastic comeback.

  I sat down to the table and Cousin Shake began fixing me a bowl of grits as if he were slopping oatmeal in a soup kitchen.

  “Butter?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Salt?”

  “Sugar, please.” I was trying to be nice.

  “That’s what wrong witcha now,” he snorted, while sporting the biggest wedgie I’d ever seen. “You too damn sweet.” He sprinkled two teaspoons of sugar over the butter in my grits. “Who ever heard of sugar in grits?”

  “You love me, don’t you, Cousin Shake?”

  “Crazy ’bout you.” He kissed me on the forehead. “Now, where is Toi? She going to school if I gotta punch her in the face and make her do it.”

  “I hear you, Cousin Shake!” Toi yelled as she dragged herself to the bathroom.

  “Cousin Shake love ya, gurl! You know I do.”

  As usual, all I could do was laugh at Cousin Shake. Don’t get me wrong, there were times where I wanted to choke him, but I knew he cared. Just sometimes he cared a little too much.

  “Hur’ up, Fat Mama. Yo’ lil’ brain need all the education it can get.”

  I didn’t even respond. I finished my grits, mushed Man-Man in the head, and walked out the door.

  3

  ... Based on what you see, the boy is mine ...

  —BRANDY & MONICA, “THE BOY IS MINE”

  It was the end of September and the weather was different everyday. Some days were sixty and seventy
degrees and others ranged anywhere from the low forties to fifties, but today blew it all out the water ... it was a record-breaking eighty-five degrees. Somebody—somewhere—had treated Brick City to a surprise summer day—which meant one thing: everybody and their mama were outside, even at seven-thirty in the morning.

  We were from the southward section of Newark, New Jersey, reppin’ for South 14th Street, where everybody knew everybody and you could always count on somebody being all in your business.

  When I stepped onto the porch, the sun starting baking my face and Ciara’s “Goodies” was blasting from an unknown radio somebody had placed in their front window. I waved at my neighbors, who lived on both sides of me and across the street. Most of them were old people or my friends’ grandparents, who were either sitting on their steps or chillin’ on their porches in plastic lounge chairs, old recliners, or worn love seats. The bus stop was crowded with school kids and parents going to work, and the corner bodega was buzzing with customers coming in and out.

  Toi still hadn’t made her way out the house, but at least she was up and getting dressed. Right about now, my mother was due to come home from work for a few hours before heading to her second job as a part-time bus driver for New Jersey Transit. And if she sees homegirl still in the crib lollygagging around, I know she’s gon’ flip, especially since she hasn’t been pleased with Toi’s nasty attitude lately. The daily speech after school has become a battle of who’s the mother and who’s the child. I feel like “I had you, you didn’t have me” is Toi’s middle name.

  “Ballin’!!” Shae yelled our clique’s greeting while snapping her fingers in a zigzag motion as she headed up the block to meet me. “What’s really hood, boo?” She smiled, while checking out my gear.

  “I see you peepin’ me, homegirl.” I placed my hands on my hips. “I’m just too hot for words.”

  “But hot is what we do best.” She placed her backpack on the ground and began working it out. “Please, feel me.” She pointed to her chest. “Ms. RaShaeyah Harris is sportin’ ”—she strutted in front of my porch as if she were on the catwalk—“denim capris with Apple Bottoms written across the boo ... ty, a sweet pink Apple Bottoms party tee, a midriff hoodie ... and please peep the rhinestone-studded Apple Bottoms sneakers. Now give it up, give me my props, please.” Her silver bangles clapped together as she started to vogue.

  “Oh, whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “You know we stay fly.” At least that’s what I always wanted to believe. And it’s not that I didn’t think I was cute or I had no confidence in myself, it’s just that I always felt fat ... huge is more like it ... and although it’s cool when it’s just me and Shae ... when we all get together, I feel like the biggest girl in the world, especially when my friends are rockin’ something I could never touch: a belly shirt, cargo catsuit, or some super tight slinky J-Lo gear ...

  All my life I’ve been cute and chubby. Toi was slender and sexy with big boobs. Growing up, we were called, Fat Mama and Lil’ Mama, which I hated because it was a constant reminder of what I couldn’t stand most about myself.

  Believe it or not, I didn’t always know I was reppin’ fo’ the big girls. I can remember being in the mall with my mother and her asking someone if The Children’s Place had plus sizes. Hmph. I turned to her and said, “Who you buying that for?”

  But then the revelation came. My cousins and I were all going to Bowcraft with my aunt and her boyfriend. We were so excited, making plans to ride everything we saw in the amusement park. And when it came time for us to go, my aunt’s boyfriend said, “Fat Mama, make sure you sit in the middle to help the tires balance the car.” I was devastated and all I can remember thinking was, I can’t believe I’m big enough to balance a car. I must be humongous.

  My mother told him off when I told her what happened, but it never erased how I felt about myself.

  I see on TV, ever since Tyra Banks gained weight and Mary Kate overdosed on starvation, that skinny is supposed to be out and thick is in, but I think it’s a fad.

  “Girl, Seven,” Shae carried on. “People just got to see us to believe how funky, fresh, fly we are.”

  “Okay, Shae.” I laughed, stepping off my porch. “That’s enough of feeling yourself.”

  As we headed up the block toward the bus stop, “You look nice, RaShaeyah,” floated from behind us. When we turned around, we saw it was Shae’s mother smiling at us, looking as if she hadn’t changed her clothes in weeks. I knew Shae was embarrassed, especially since she told me she and her mother made a pact that if anybody was around they weren’t to speak, but maybe this time her mother forgot. I guessed that’s why nobody else ever knew exactly who Shae’s mother was, except me. But I didn’t care, Shae was my girl no matter what. After all, her mother was on drugs, she wasn’t.

  “I shoulda let my daddy take me to school,” Shae mumbled. Her father was who she and her two brothers lived with.

  “Hey.” Shae’s mother smiled at me.

  I waved. I didn’t know what to say. What kinda conversation do you hold with a crack fiend?

  “I saw y’all over there profiling,” Shae’s mother carried on. “Y’all look real, real cute, too.”

  “Uhmm hmm,” Shae responded.

  “Okay, well, I won’t hold you ... too long.” She gave Shae half a grin.

  “Here.” Shae slid something in her mother’s hand. “Let’s go, Seven.” We rushed past her and ran to the bus stop to catch the oncoming bus.

  “What’d you hand her?” I asked, as we stepped onto the bus.

  “Two dollars. I didn’t wanna see her beggin’ for it.”

  “Shawtie!!” Melvin yelled as soon as me and Shae walked through the school’s doors. I hadn’t even made it down the hallway good and already he was harassing me. I looked around and there was no place to run. Truth be told, I wanted to steal on him, make him punch drunk, and then maybe he’d leave me alone. “Look at you, gurl.” He squinted his nose and looked me up and down. “All decked out, like you the ace of spades.”

  “Do I know you?” I squinted my eyes.

  “You better know yo’ man.” He gave me a hug without asking. “Shawtie, you just the type woman I need.” He squeezed. “Know how to fill a man up.” He let me go. “I can look at you and tell somebody in yo’ house know how to cook.”

  I could tell that Shae was doing her all not to laugh.

  “Look at you,” he growled, “all fine and er’thang. Girl, if you were a cake I’d lick all ... yo’ ... icing off.”

  “Melvin, just when I was about to apologize, you just keep carrying on.”

  “You ain’t heard? Apologies turn me on.”

  Am I dreaming?

  “You wanna introduce me?” my sister asked as she and a group of her friends stood by. Seeing her in school must’ve been how I realized this was real.

  “You cool,” I said. “You don’t need any introductions.”

  “This family?” Melvin butted in. “Come on, now. You kin to Shawtie?”

  “This is my baby sister. Well, we’re twins, but I’m the oldest.” Toi extended her hand. I could tell she was trying to be funny. “You must be new here.”

  Now ... why ... did she say that? I knew the performance was coming. And sure enough, he cupped his hands on both sides of his mouth, leaned back, and shouted out, “MUR ... FREES ... BORO!! Dirty-dirty in the house. I’m Melvin, but my pot’nahs call me Big Country.”

  All I could do was shake my head.

  “So what’s ya name, sistah-in-law?”

  Sistah-in-law?

  “Toi.”

  “Whew-wee, y’all got some names on y’all. You named Toi, ya sistah named Seven, what’s ya mama’s name? Jump Off?”

  I started rummaging through my purse. I think I brought a blade to school.

  “Bye, Seven.” Toi smiled as she and her friends laughed on their way to class. “Bye, Shae, and bye, Big Country.”

  “Don’t be no stranger!” Melvin yelled. “Come see us again.”

>   “Ballin’!!” I heard coming up the hallway. I knew it was Deeyah and the rest of the get-along gang: Ki-Ki and Yaanah. They must’ve missed the hint last night, because I’m not speaking to them. I rolled my eyes as they stopped in front of my locker.

  “Dang, Shawtie.” Melvin was in my business again. “You still mad at yo’ crew? Don’t be like that. You know you being mad turns me on and I got Sex Ed first period. I might go in decent and come out a freak.”

  I’m not sure if anyone saw me, but I had passed out.

  “Big Country!!” One of Melvin’s friends shouted from the other end of the hall. “Yo, that’s my dawg. He from ATL. Y’all better watch out, the dirty-dirty ’bout to take over. I’ll see you at three o’clock, Shawtie!” He winked his eye and ran toward his friends.

  I looked toward Shae. “If I give you a knife, will you stab him?”

  She laughed. “You better stop sleeping on Big Country. He’s a cutie with his big sexy self.”

  “Big? Sexy? He looks like I could fry chicken on him.”

  “Well, fry me some please? ’Cause all I see is fine.”

  “Your taste in boys is the worst. I almost forgot you thought Mike Jones was cute.”

  “What, you ain’t know. Plus, my auntie says one thing about a southern man is he keeps a job.”

  “I’d rather they be unemployed.”

  “So”—Deeyah cleared her throat—“do y’all not see us standing here?”

  “I see you workin’ my nerves,” I snapped.

  “And I see you, but I don’t hear no apologies comin’ outcha mouth.” Shae sucked her teeth. “So, until then, you need to step.” She flicked her hand as if she’d just completed a magic trick.

  “Excuse me, Shug Knight.” Deeyah rolled her eyes at Shae. “But what I’ma apologize for? We all know Seven was mistreating Melvin.”