by L. Divine
“I’m sorry,” I say, taking the papers and rising from my desk.
“As you all know, the Multicultural Festival is coming up in March. I would like this class to participate in a healthy debate as part of the opening ceremonies. In order to do that, we have to practice our skills as well as pick a topic to debate on. There will be two teams of three. The top six debaters in the class will be divided and teamed up at the team captains’ discretion. So, let’s begin.”
“Hey, Mr. Adewale. I have a good multicultural topic,” KJ says, smiling at me as I continue passing out the papers. “Interracial dating: pros and cons.” Everyone in the class snickers except for me, Jeremy, Emilio, and Mr. A.
“I want this class to be fun but controlled. We can learn about each other’s similarities and differences more authentically by being freed up a little bit. But don’t take advantage of the situation, and there will be no disrespect in this room, understood?” Mr. Adewale looks from KJ to me. I reclaim my seat and try to focus on the present moment. I’ve been so caught up in my involuntary daydreams that I barely know what day it is. “Alright, let’s get back to the class.”
After school I will talk to Mr. A about the vision I just had. Maybe he has a little more insight into the meaning. If my dream is accurate, he can see more with those hazel eyes than he’s letting on.
After drifting through the rest of my day, I’m glad to hear the final bell ring. I walk over to Mr. A’s classroom and find him seated inside studying, as usual. He’s always reading something.
“Got a min?” I ask, knocking on the open door before stepping into his empty room. I look around the hallway to make sure we don’t have any spying eyes. The last thing I need is someone eavesdropping on what we have to chat about.
“Sure. What’s up with you today, Miss Jackson? You seem a bit distracted.”
“I had a daydream about you and I need some insight.” He knows all about my lineage already. It feels good not having to explain to someone the significance of my dreaming.
“I’m listening,” he says, putting down his textbook and giving me his undivided attention. I tell him the entire dream about us being married, and he doesn’t budge. I thought he’d give me more of a reaction than that.
“Have you ever heard of Oyotunji?” Mr. Adewale asks. It sounds familiar, but my mind is in such a state that I can’t see clearly.
“No, can’t say that I have.”
“Well, it’s an African village in South Carolina. My ancestors are Gullah folks and I grew up there until I was a teenager and moved to New Orleans with my mom.”
“Why did she move?”
“Let’s just say she wasn’t happy as a fifth wife. But I miss the village to this day. It’s the only place I know of where I can be completely comfortable as a priest. You should look it up.” Yeah, with all of my free time on hand, maybe I will.
“Wow, I didn’t know there was an African village in the United States.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know. But that’s why I’m here,” he says, smiling brightly. If anyone can dig me out of my funk temporarily, it’s this man.
“Is there a support group for people like us?” I ask, taking a Snickers bar out of my backpack to snack on. It’s been a long day and I don’t recall having lunch. I’m really bugging if I can’t remember eating. Luckily my growling stomach has a memory all of its own.
“You mean people born with cauls, or all Africans in general?” He can be such a smart-ass when he wants to be. Too bad I find that irresistible about him.
“I mean caul babies.”
“I wish. It’s rare to find us at all, let alone a group of us. That’s the best thing about the village. Everyone’s spiritual lineage is not only respected but nourished, unlike out here in the wilderness. It’s the politics you have to be careful of when living there.”
“A group would be nice, especially when it comes to helping us decipher the true meaning of dreams,” I say. Mr. A takes an apple out of his briefcase and begins snacking with me. It’s our first lunch date. Too bad it’s not under happier circumstances, but I’ll take what I can get.
“Look, Jayd, just because we were married in your dream doesn’t mean that’s what you’re really feeling. It could mean that we have to partner up in another way. Don’t take your dreams so literally.” Something about the way he’s speaking sounds familiar.
“Yeah, I hope you’re right. So tell me, what does your caul do for you?” Mr. Adewale looks deep into my eyes. From the feel of it, he doesn’t have the gift of sight like we do, even if his eyes can get a sistah caught up in the rapture.
“If I told you that, I’d have to change schools,” he says, smiling at my stern look. I’m going to focus on him with what little energy I have left. Ever since my mom taught me that trick I’ve used it well. Catching my drift, Mr. Adewale gets serious and tells me about his talents. “Like you, I have a lineage and it stems from my father’s side. We are children of Ogun, the deity of iron, honor, and war.”
“I know of him from our studies on the various orisha.
But that still doesn’t tell me about your powers.” It’s getting late and I need to get going. Since I don’t have to be at Netta’s today, Mama’s going to wonder where I am if I don’t get home soon. She’s stricter than ever before now that I have my own wheels.
“Patience, little queen. I’m sure you know that you catch more bees with honey than vinegar.” Mr. A switches his weight from the left foot to his right, and crosses his arms over his chest. His left shirtsleeve pulls up slightly and I notice the green-and-black beaded bracelet similar to the yellow-and-gold one Mama wears on her left wrist.
“I’ve heard that many times before,” I say, telling the truth.
I’m known for having very little patience.
“My father’s people are known for their listening skills.
Helps when we’re hunting. And we can also tell when someone’s being less than honest.” He gives me that same look of recognition he gave when he first met me. He knew then that I was hiding something from him and I knew he knew more than he was saying at the time.
“Damn, that’s a gangster-ass skill to have,” I say. Mr. Ade wale can’t help but smile at my ghetto props. But for real, that’s some baller shit. I wish I could tell when people were lying to me. If I had that skill, Misty and I would have never been friends in the first place. That alone would have warded off a lot of misfortune in my life.
“You’d better go on and head home before your grandmother comes looking for you.” He’s got that right. All I need is Mama worrying about me, especially with all that’s going on our world.
“Oh, she doesn’t drive.” Mr. A seems amused by my words.
“We both know she doesn’t need a car to look for you,” Mr. A says, and he’s right. It’s a trip to talk to someone about my grandmother at school. A nice trip, but still it feels weird. “And try to get some solid sleep. The people in my lineage sleep light because we come from hunters. You need the opposite to honor your gifts. It’s important, Queen Jayd.” I would answer him back as King Ogunlabi but I don’t know how he’d take it.
“Will do. And thank you for talking to me. I’ve been feeling slightly out of it lately, and I don’t have anyone who understands what I’m going through.”
“Well, I’m here anytime you need to talk. And it doesn’t have to be just when you’re not feeling well. But seriously, Jayd. Get your rest. You’re going to need it to make it through your destiny.” He’s got that right. So far it’s been one hell of a road, and I don’t see it getting easier any time soon. “And whatever you do, keep a cool head. Your enemies will try and ruffle your tail feathers, but don’t let them. You’re a different kind of bird altogether. If you always remember that there’s a crown on top of your head then you’ll never lose a battle.”
He could’ve fooled me. I feel like I’ve completely lost this war with Misty and I’m too tired to do anything about it. This madness has got me s
leepwalking, losing my sight, and it’s messing with my money. Losing my friends is the most challenging casualty of the whole encounter. I feel like I’m in a bad dream and any minute I’m going to wake up and everything will be okay. Tre will be alive, Nellie and Mickey will be bugging me about mundane shit and, most importantly, I’ll be well rested and back on my A game. Maybe tonight will be the night I get some solid sleep and this hellish nightmare will be over, once and for all.
Once I made it home it took me awhile to settle down, with all the homework and spirit work I had to do. When I finally do drift off I fall into what feels like someone else’s dream. I don’t know how, but I know when I’m in my own thoughts and this is not feeling familiar at all. It feels similar to when I walked through my friends’ dreams after they drank my mom’s special party punch, but this time I’m not a quiet observer. It actually feels like the same thing is being done to me, but not for any kind of good.
“She’s in,” I hear a voice say. In where? And how the hell do I get out? “Hurry, say the chant before she wakes up.” I hear a sudden drumbeat and begin to focus on that sound instead of the female voice, and in doing so Misty comes to the forefront of my vision.
“Give me your eyes for now and always. Let me have your sight, free of haze.” Misty turns around and throws a look at me, her eyes now a blindingly bright blue.
“Don’t look into their light! She’s taking all of your powers, Jayd, not just your sight. When she dreams your dreams, she dreams of everything she wants to be through you. A dream snatcher is the worst kind of hater there is. You need to check her, and now, Jayd, before this goes any further,” my mother yells. My head is pounding as I try to resist Misty’s gaze, but the sound of the drumbeat in the background grows louder and with it I’m losing my strength to keep from looking at Misty.
“Jayd, get up. You’re going to be late,” Mama says groggily from her bed. After last night’s weird dream I know I’m in for a hellish day. Yesterday I was so busy at Netta’s I didn’t have time to think. And with the regular short periods on Tuesdays, I didn’t even notice the day go by. But today will not be so easy.
While I was at the shop yesterday, Mama and Netta warned me against Misty and Esmeralda’s constant dream harassment. Luckily I’ve been taking my pills as prescribed, and whatever’s in those huge things has helped me get stronger in my dream world. I still can’t fall asleep when and where I want to, but I’m beginning to master the art of waking up.
When I make it to campus, the Valentine Day buzz is everywhere. There’s always a rush week before any holiday, and with the dance next Friday the push is on to sell as many tickets as possible. There are also student cupids running around campus shooting people with plastic bows and arrows, indicating that they have a secret valentine. I wish one of them fools would shoot me. It’ll be the last shot they ever take.
“Good morning, Jayd,” Ms. Toni says with hella attitude. Why is she irritated, and so early?
“Good morning, Ms. Toni,” I say, opening my locker. Something about the way she’s looking at me tells me not to give her a hug right now.
“I saw you in Mr. Adewale’s room Monday afternoon, Jayd. And it didn’t look like a normal tutorial session to me,” she says, leaning in close to me so our business isn’t heard by the other students passing by. No wonder she’s got her panties all in a bunch. She thinks I’m trying to get at Mr. A. She’s not entirely wrong, but I’d never jeopardize his career—or mine, for that matter.
“Ms. Toni, it’s not what you think. I’ve been having some problems and Mr. A…”
“Mr. Adewale, you mean,” she says, cutting me off. Ms. Toni’s breathing so heavily on me that I can smell the coffee and cigarettes she had for breakfast. She should really stop smoking. “You used to talk to me when you had issues. But now that Mr. Adewale is working here on a regular basis I hardly see you anymore. Tell me that’s a coincidence, Miss Jackson.”
“Not really. It’s just that with everything going on…” But Ms. Toni’s not having it this morning. I guess I should stop trying to explain and just let her talk, because she’s not interested in a word I have to say.
“Jayd, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you need to wake up and snap out of it. This is not a game, little girl. You’re playing with your life and his. So think carefully about how you are perceived when you’re receiving this advice you think only he can give you.”
Ms. Toni walks into the ASB room where her office is housed and closes the door, leaving me in the main hall, completely dumbfounded. I hate it when she’s mad at me. What a way to start my school day. Wednesdays always feel longer after short Tuesdays. And with AP meetings at both the nutrition break and lunch, today will no doubt feel like an eternity.
English and Spanish were especially grueling this morning, with pop quizzes in both classes. I’m sure having Mr. Adewale as my teacher in two classes will eventually make me a better student, but right now I’m not feeling the love for his teaching style. And with Ms. Toni up my ass about associating with him, I’m not sure I should continue confiding in him, even if he is the only person at this school who gets me.
On my way to the English hall where my first AP meeting will be held, I notice Misty sitting in the quad with KJ and friends. Please tell me this trick isn’t braiding hair. When the hell did she learn how to cornrow? Misty never had the patience or style to braid before. Noticing my amazement, Misty can’t help but say something.
“What, you think you’re the only black girl who can braid hair? You’re so full of yourself, Jayd. Get over it already,” Misty says, cocking KJ’s head to the side just like I would. Most people would have the client hold their ear back instead. I don’t even have a comeback I’m so shocked. Misty’s snatching my life right before my eyes, and I feel powerless to do anything about it.
“Hey, Jayd,” Jeremy says, falling into step with me as I continue my trek across the yard. I grabbed a churro to snack on during the meeting. Hopefully the sugar will keep me awake. “So you didn’t answer me about Valentine’s Day next Saturday.” Jeremy’s so sweet. But the last thing on my mind is celebrating another damned holiday when I’m still feeling ill from the last one.
“Next weekend is too far away.” Jeremy smiles down at me and I can’t help but smile back. Jeremy continues with his love day plans, completely ignoring my protest.
“I was thinking we could catch a movie. How about that new horror love story that’s out? I think it’s called Voodoo Valentine or something like that. The previews look scary as shit.” This is the problem with dating a white boy who knows nothing about our history. I want to cuss him out on so many levels I don’t know where to begin, so I won’t.
“Jeremy, I can’t deal with this right now. I have to get to my meeting,” I say as we approach Ms. Malone’s class. She’s the best English teacher on the AP track, and I’m glad I have her this year. “But for the record, I hate horror films.” I walk into the classroom, leaving Jeremy and his dumbass movie behind. If I can make it through the rest of the day without hurting someone it will be a miracle.
Misty braiding KJ’s hair has been bothering me all day. I can’t explain why, but I do feel like I’m the only black girl at this school who should braid, even if it’s the furthest thing from the truth. Misty’s invading my territory and I can’t focus long enough to figure how to kick her ass once and for all.
“A diva is a female version of a hustler,” Beyoncé sings, announcing a call. It’s Rah. I haven’t heard from him since he stormed off at Netta’s shop over the weekend. I haven’t tried to call him because I’ve been too involved in my own shit to worry about him and his jealous tendencies. Besides, I’m not the one in the wrong this time around. He’s been screwing up a lot lately, and I’m sick of it. Whether or not Misty has anything to do with his mistakes, I think he should still know better.
“Sorry how I acted with you and Nigel Saturday. My bad,” he says as soon as I flip the phone open.
“Apology accepted.” For now. I make my way to the crowded parking lot, ready to leave Redondo Beach behind for the afternoon. The sooner I get home the quicker I can get started on all of my homework, not to mention my spirit work. I have to record my dreams in my notebook, and with the various visions I’ve had I can’t seem to keep up.
“So I was thinking we should stay in for Valentine’s Day. You know, just chill. How does that sound?” I can tell by the tone of his voice that his version of chilling is making out all night. It’s been awhile since we’ve had a night to ourselves, but I’m not going out like that, especially not after the way he’s been acting lately.
“Oh, I see. You want to run around making project twins with me and your other woman. Well, no thank you to being one of your baby mamas,” I say through the cell. My head is getting hot and that alone is blurring my vision. Luckily I’m safe in my mom’s car, where none of the other students notice my escalating conversation.
“Why do you keep talking about having my baby, Jayd? What aren’t you telling me?” Rah knows I’m not pregnant because my name’s not Mary and my baby’s name—no matter when I have it—will not be Jesus.
“Rah, I’m under a lot of pressure,” I say, holding my head in my hands. My headache is coming back and I know it’s because of this argument. “And why can’t you go to the dance anyway? It’s the day before the actual holiday.” He pauses slightly before answering.
“Because Nigel and I are going to the dance at Westingle Friday night. It’s business, baby.”
“Business my ass, Rah. Y’all are going with Trish and Tasha, aren’t you?”
“It’s not what you think. Nigel needs to talk to the coaches up there and see if they’ll let him back on the team, just in case your punk-ass school kicks him out.”
“Tell me anything, Rah,” I say, starting the engine. I knew Nigel wasn’t ready to marry Mickey, no matter what Misty tried to do to him on Mickey’s behalf. Whatever they did to my boy didn’t stick after me, Mama, and Netta got in his head last weekend. Rah pauses and lets out a sigh, like I’m the one being difficult. He’d better check himself and quickly.
