by Ni-Ni Simone
“A who-who?”
“Say all that again,” my mother said.
“Oh, my God,” Naja started panting. “I always knew you had it in you. I always did. I would like to thank the Academy…”
I couldn’t believe it. “You actually want me to sing on Young Run’s CD, and you’re willing to give me a record deal? A girl like me?”
“Why not? A girl like you could be the perfect one. And given all the stuff the papers said about you, hmph, you’ve got a story like a lot of other young girls. So who knows, maybe you’ll be an inspiration to them.”
I turned to my mother. “Ma, what do you think?”
“Depends on what you wanna do.”
“I wanna do it!”
She looked at P-Fifty. “Seems like you got your answer!”
SPIN IT…
Track 29
I thought I was dreaming when I felt someone snatch the covers off me and the pillow from under my head. Then I opened my eyes and realized it was real, and Ny’eem was standing there. “Wake up!” I couldn’t believe it. I started smiling and couldn’t stop.
“I said get up.”
I got up and hugged my brother so tightly that I fell on the bed with him and started planting sloppy kisses all over his face. “I can’t believe you’re home! Oh, I love you! I love you so much! Did you see Mommy? You see how pretty she is and how clean she is! Ny’eem, please don’t get in trouble again, I couldn’t take it with you being gone.”
“Okay,” he said in a scratchy voice. “Is that why you’re trying to kill me?”
“Kill you?” I said, taken aback.
“I can’t breathe, Elite.”
“Oh.” I loosened my grip. “My fault.”
“Oh, no,” floated from my doorway. “Y’all didn’t start playing without us!”
When I looked up, I saw Aniyah, Sydney, and Mica. I ran and hugged them all of them at the same time.
“When did you get home?” I kept kissing them repeatedly.
“Mrs. Jameson dropped us off.”
“Oh, my God. I missed you all so much.”
“Mommy told us about your record deal.”
“I sure did,” my mother said as she walked in my room.
“Yo,” Ny’eem said. “You think I could get a rap deal?”
“Yeah,” Sydney said. “Especially now that you been to jail.”
“Sydney!” my mother yelled. “Watch your mouth!”
“I was just playin’.” She gave my mother a quick and appeasing smile.
“I bet you were.” My mother started tickling her.
The entire scene was perfect and I didn’t want anything to interrupt it. I was overjoyed beyond belief. I never imagined that my life would turn full circle like this. It was as if everything I’d been through was supposed to have happened so that it would add up to that very moment. That moment when we were together as a family, and no one could take us away from one another.
After a few hours of playing with my brothers and sisters, my mother called us into the kitchen for dinner.
“Ma, when you learn to cook?” Ny’eem asked her, surprised.
“Boy, hush,” she laughed. “Your mama can burn.”
“Exactly, that’s what I’m sayin’. So when your food start tasting this good?”
“Funny.”
I was laughing so hard tears were falling from my eyes. “Ma, Ny’eem is telling the truth. You know you use to mess up some food.”
“I did not.”
“Ma,” I said and twisted my lips. “Be honest.”
“Okay, maybe once in a while, but I’m better now. You have to admit this is the best fried chicken you’ve ever had.”
“Fried chicken?!” we all said simultaneously. “We thought this was fish.”
“Awwwl, man! We gon’ order out from now on.”
“I just need some practice,” my mother said as if she were pleading for us to understand.
I fell out laughing until I cried. “Okay Ma, okay,” I said, not wanting her feelings to be hurt. “Just forewarn us the next time.”
“I got you forewarned.”
After dinner we watched television, laughed, and talked more. It was as if we were having a family reunion that none of us wanted to end.
“Let’s play pitty-pat for pennies,” Ny’eem suggested.
“Oh, you must wanna be spanked,” I said, “’cause you know I got the juice when it comes to cards.”
“Whatever, girl,” Ny’eem said, grabbing the deck of cards as we all gathered back around the table. “Put up or shut up.”
“I wanna play,” Aniyah said.
“Me too!” Sydney chimed.
“And don’t forget me,” Mica insisted as he wrapped his favorite sheet around his neck. “I wanna play, too.”
“Boy, if you don’t get your Superman behind outta here!” Ny’eem snapped.
“Mommy!”
“Yes,” she called from the kitchen as she washed the dishes.
“Ny’eem is teasing me.”
“Cut it out, Ny’eem.”
“I’m just playin’, man,” he said, motioning for Mica to sit next to him. “We the two men around here. We have to look out for each.”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Mica nodded. “Hey, Ny’eem.”
“Wassup?”
“Aniyah said you knew how to make license plates. Is that true?”
“Ma!”
“Yes, Ny’eem!”
“Get these kids.”
“Cut it out, kids.”
I looked at my brothers and sisters, and couldn’t stop smiling. The evening was beyond my wildest dreams.
SPECIAL REQUEST
(Love Letter)
“Wassup everybody?! This is DJ Twan from Hot 102, and I have with me the newest hip-hop female sensation, Elite. Wassup Elite?”
I had spent at least at hour telling myself I would be calm when it came to doing this promotion/radio interview, yet my heart skipped around in my chest cavity like crazy, so I prayed I spoke with ease: “Everything is everything, DJ Twan.” I smiled and DJ Twan winked his eye at me. I could tell he knew I was nervous. I looked at Naja sitting in the corner of the studio, and she gave me a thumbs up.
“You know,” I continued, “my CD, A Girl Like Me, dropped last week—”
“And it’s killin’ the charts!” DJ Twan said excitedly. “We gon’ spin that new joint in a minute, Love Letter.’ So Elite, is it true that you wrote that?”
“Yes,” I blushed. “I wrote five tracks on my CD. As well as a couple of tracks for Chris Brown, Neyo, Dream, and for a new upcoming artist.”
“Did you write ‘Love Letter’ for anybody in particular?”
“Maybe,” I smiled.
“Ai’ight, Miss Maybe. Congrats on doing so well! Do your thang, girl! Well, we’re here to promote your new CD, and to give away tickets to your upcoming concert at the Garden, with special guest stars Lil Wayne and Keyshia Cole! You must be amped about that!”
“Am I? What, don’t play with me!”
DJ Twan laughed. “So, I tell you what, let’s get to giving some of these tickets away. Call us up,” he spoke into the microphone, “and to everybody out there listening, if you want tickets, then you need to call us and let us know why you love Elite so much that you should be front and center at the concert! But first, let’s listen to this hot new joint. Elite—”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you sing a few bars for your fans?”
“And you know this.” I smiled as my “Love Letter” bed dropped. I started adlibbing, and then floated into singing the jam.
I closed my eyes and heard myself singing into the earphones. I thought about how much I’d been through and how I never imagined where my life would end up.
Here I was here on the radio, the very station where all of this started. And though I’d never been happier in my life, there was one problem: I missed Haneef.
I felt like he should’ve been
there to share the moment with me. I felt incomplete, at times lost, and every day I felt lonely. And no matter how long we’d been apart, I wanted him back desperately. But obviously, since I hadn’t heard from him in three months, he didn’t feel the same way. I hoped as I sang my hit single, which I wrote for him—that if and when he ever took the time to listen to it, that he would realize it was our jam. I ended the tune and wiped the twinkle of a tear forming in the corner of my eye.
“Man, that was hot!” DJ Twan said when I stopped singing. “You got skills for real. You gon’ be around a long time!”
“Thank you.”
“Ai’ight, Ms. Elite, so let’s get to giving these tickets away. The phone lines are lit up. And let’s take caller…ten. Wassup caller? What’s your name and where are you from?”
“Oh, my God!” a girl screamed. “Elite, you remember me?! It’s Ciera! From school. Wassup girl?”
I couldn’t believe it! “I just wanted you to know that I am your biggest fan, and I always knew you would make it!”
Oh…kay…“Hi, Ciera. Thanks for the encouragement.”
“So can I get those tickets?”
Was this chick asking me for tickets? When she had dogged me in school? When she and Jahaad were the ones who posted that article telling the whole world that my mother was on drugs. This chick had major nerve. I didn’t want to think about my reputation, so I could tell this chick to step her ass off and be gone. But…my manager and record company would have a fit, so I didn’t. Instead I said, “No, Ciera, I don’t quite remember you, but anyway gurl, tell me why you should get these tickets.”
“You don’t remember me?! Oh, you done got all famous and crazy!” Ciera started going off. “I know you don’t think—”
“Okay,” DJ Twan clicked her off the line. “Next caller.”
I couldn’t believe Ciera. All I could do was look at Naja, who laughed so loud the engineer had to ask her to be quiet. In the midst of laughing at Ciera, DJ Twan took a few more callers and gave away two sets of tickets.
“Ai’ight, down to our last pair. Three times a charm! The hotline is lit up like crazy, so caller, tell us why you love Elite!”
“Because the first time I saw her,” a familiar male voice said, “I knew it was love. And you know I had her once and I lost her.”
My heart jumped. For a moment I thought the caller was Haneef, but nah, I knew it wasn’t…Naja looked at me strangely; apparently she thought the same thing. “How’d you lose her?” I asked.
“Because I did something stupid for publicity. I listened to my publicist tell me that I needed to be with some girl just for show, and didn’t think about how I would hurt the girl I loved. So I did it and now I’m here, trying to confess my love.”
I couldn’t believe it. It was Haneef. Tears were racing like a marathon from my eyes.
“And I love you for so many different reasons, Li’l Ma. I love the way your dimples light up when you laugh. The way you hold your hands and bite your bottom lip when you’re nervous.” DJ Twan looked at me and mouthed, “You know who this is?”
I shook my head yes.
DJ Twan spoke into the microphone: “Can I ask your name, caller?”
“Haneef.”
“The Haneef?” DJ Twan looked surprised, and so did everyone else in the room. “The Haneef, like platinum selling Haneef?”
“Exactly, and I want the world to know that I love Elite. She’s my heart, my world, my wifey, and I can’t stand being without her any longer…”
The more he spoke, the closer he felt and the louder his voice sounded to me. I held my head down. I hated that I was crying like this, especially since I wasn’t one who wore my feelings on my fingertips. And just as I wiped my eyes and decided that after I left here, I was pushing all my stupid anger to the side and going to get my boo, I felt my chair spin around. I opened my eyes and Haneef was squatting before me.
“I can’t do it anymore.” He placed his cell phone on the table. “I need you and I love you too much to be without you.”
“I guess this means you don’t really want the tickets, huh?” DJ Twan laughed.
“Nah,” Haneef smiled. “I don’t want any tickets. I just want you, Elite.”
“You better stop crying,” Naja whispered as she tapped me on the shoulder, “and get with this cat before I do.”
Only Naja.
I sniffed and got myself together. No more being without him. No more being stubborn. None of that mattered. All that mattered was that I was Haneef’s girl. I took off the headphones, stood up, and embraced my baby tightly.
“I want you to be my girl.” He looked at me, wiping my tears away.
“Yes.” I kissed him. “Yes, I’ll be your girl.”
And as if on cue, they dropped a recording of the duet we did at his concert that night I first got onstage with him.
Haneef and I held each other tightly as we kissed passionately, and I knew at that moment I would never let him go. He took the chain he wore around his neck, the one that he’d given me before, and placed it back on me.
“I love you, Elite,” he whispered to me.
“And I love you, too.”
SPIN TO DA END
My mother sat the old boom box we used to jam to on the kitchen windowsill. Then she popped in my new CD and placed it on mixed rotation while Ny’eem rapped and Mica, Sydney, and Aniyah danced. The movers were buzzing and placing furniture all around us and though everyone else seemed to be happy we were moving to Westchester, New York—a place where there was more than an inground pool waiting in the backyard, there was a brand new start and a chance to be anything we wanted to be—I had to admit I was scared.
It was like…really stepping out there, really having to rely on ourselves and depending on no one else but each other. Which all added up to the fact that there was a lot riding on my mother’s sobriety.
And I wasn’t exactly sure how to do it, but I knew I had to trust her. And I had to step back enough for her to be exactly who she was…a mother…my mother…our mother.
And that was when I realized that all the time I’d been holding my breath, maybe…just maybe…it was the moment to release it. No more hiding, no more lying, or being embarrassed of who I was.
After all, Cassie was completely different. She was no longer hanging out in the streets or yelling at us through a crack in the bathroom door while she got high. She attended N.A. faithfully, went to church religiously, and most of all was a mom—a regular mom—who not only loved us but cooked for us, ironed for us, washed our clothes, and spent time with us.
As everyone continued about their business preparing for the move, I tipped into my old room and looked around. I lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. All I could do was smile, because never in a million years had I imagined this life.
“Yo, Li’l Ma. You ready to roll?” Haneef stood in my doorway. He looked around my room, amazed. “When did you do all of this?” He glared at the pink painted walls, the brand new white poster bed, and everything else that made the room fit for a princess.
“Last night.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to make the little girl moving in here feel as if she had a chance.”
“That’s real sweet, baby.”
“Actually, I ordered furniture for the whole place.”
“Wow, look at you. Let me find out—you tryna be Robin Hood and er’thing.”
“Be quiet.” I laughed.
“Nah, Li’l Ma, this is real nice, though.” Haneef walked over to the bed and lay down next to me. “But…ahhh…why are we laying here?” He kissed me.
“Cause I’m trying to remember when it all happened, and when life started to really change, and I can’t quite think of it. All I know is that somehow, I’m here.”
“That’s how it is, Li’l Ma. One day you look up and go dang, God, you the man.”
I looked at my boo and my whole face lit up. That was exactly it. Exactly! It all started with m
e talking to God. And it was the perfect way to end it, too, by saying, “Dang, God, You are the man!”
“Elite!” my mother called out to me. “Erika, Jena, and the boys are here.”
“Who are they?” Haneef asked.
“The family who’s moving in here. So you better get up.” I looked at Haneef and pushed him on the shoulder. “Especially if you don’t want Cassie to wreck shop on you.”
He laughed. “I sure don’t.”
“Elite!” Erika ran into my room, followed by my mother, and Erika’s mother, Jena.
“My goodness!” Jena exclaimed.
“Elite,” Erika said in awe. “This room is for a princess!”
“And that’s exactly what you are.” I hugged her.
Jena was in tears and I could hear the boys screaming about how great their rooms were.
“I can’t believe you did all of this for us,” Jena cried. “Thank you so much!”
Erika continued to hug me tightly and screamed, “Thank you! I can’t believe all of this is for me!” She looked at Haneef and just when I thought her screams couldn’t get any louder, they soared through the roof. “Oh, my God, my friend said you were best friends with Rekeem! I mean I love your music and everything, but er’body knows that Elite has you on lock!”
I laughed and bumped Haneef on the shoulder. “On lock, huh?”
“Don’t sweat yourself,” he mumbled.
“But do you know Rakeem?!” Erika screamed.
“Yes,” Haneef said.
“Oh…my…God! Tell him I love him. As a matter of fact, my mom said I could call the radio station to win tickets to his concert! It’s next week and I just have to be there! And all I have to do is sing.” She held up a poster she had in hand. “And I’ll have you know I can sing. Trust me, one day I’ma be just like Elite! Now,” she spun on her heels, “where should I put this?”
I smiled at my mother and then Haneef. “Okay,” I said, pulling out a roll of tape. “Put this,” I said as I stood in the center of her bed and she handed me her Rakeem poster, “right here.” And I taped it to her ceiling.
