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So, So Hood

Page 3

by L. Divine


  Chance looks over his boy’s shoulder and then snatches up the phone, staring hard at the picture just like I did when it first came through. I still can’t believe my eyes, but truth is truth and pictures don’t lie.

  “Girl, where’d you get this?” Chance asks, looking for the sender but like me, he has no luck retrieving the information.

  “What difference does it make?” I ask, reclaiming the phone from my friend and closing it. “How can you deny kissing Cameron when the proof is right in front of you?”

  Jeremy looks at me, unsure of what to say. He’s probably trying to think of a good lie to get him out of this shit, but no such luck.

  “Jayd, I don’t care what that picture looks like, I’m telling you it’s not real,” Jeremy says, touching my shoulder. Luckily I’m covered from head to toe and can’t feel his soft, freshly scented skin against mine. If I could, my defenses would probably drop like they usually do for the men I love.

  “What kind of fool do you take me for, Jeremy?” I ask, removing his hand, fully pissed. “It’s one thing to deny your wrongdoing, but to tell me that my eyes are lying is a whole other thing.”

  I look at Chance who doesn’t know what to say. What he assumes to be Nellie’s infidelity is still fresh on his mind. Otherwise, I’m sure he’d chime in on Jeremy’s behalf.

  “Hey, what’s going on out here?” Nigel asks, smelling like an ashtray and sweating like a pig.

  “Jeremy thinking I’m a damned fool, that’s what.” I stare down at my man who still looks shell-shocked by my attitude. If I didn’t know better I’d say he’s telling the truth, but unfortunately I’ve been around too many good liars in my short seventeen years.

  Nigel looks at the three of us in amazement. I bet he didn’t expect that answer, but that’s exactly how I feel.

  Jeremy reaches for my right cheek with the tip of his left index finger and I pull back, refusing to let him touch me again.

  “Jayd, how long are you going to be mad at me for something I didn’t do?”

  “How can you deny kissing Cameron when you just saw what we all saw?” I ask, now screaming at Jeremy. I’m supposed to be cool and I’m anything but right now.

  “Ever heard of Photoshop, Jayd?” Jeremy asks, almost snickering in my face. Now he’s just being a smart-ass and I don’t appreciate it one bit.

  “He’s right, Jayd,” Chance says, now adding to the denial mix. “Anything can be altered nowadays with the right program and skills. Let me see the picture again. I’m going to send it to my phone and see what I can find out.”

  Nigel steps on the porch and walks over to me for support even if I know he’s inclined to agree with his boys.

  I hand Chance my cell, and he quickly retrieves the photo and sends it to his iPhone. He’s good when it comes to technology, unlike me, who still hasn’t mastered any of it, including all the bells and whistles of my phone. It would’ve taken me at least five minutes to do what he just did.

  “Whatever, Chance. It still doesn’t change the facts, no matter what you think you can come up with.”

  “Jayd, you know me,” Jeremy says, taking my left hand in his and pleading with his eyes, but I’m over it. “I’d never do anything to intentionally hurt you, and you should know by now that I’d never cheat on you.”

  Before I can get sucked up into his pretty blues, Mickey pulls in the driveway with a packed car and I’m grateful for the intrusion.

  “Yeah, and I know you’re a man, too. I thought I could trust you, Jeremy, but now I don’t know what to think.” I refuse to cry in front of him, but tears are welling up in my eyes despite my best efforts to be hard.

  “I love you, Jayd. Remember that.” Finally defeated, Jeremy lets go and says his good-byes before returning to Chance’s ride.

  Rah emerges from inside the house to help with the final load. “Y’all leaving without helping?” Rah looks ready to cuss them both out, but luckily he’s too mellow to go that far.

  Chance looks remorseful that he can’t stay longer, but under the circumstances he doesn’t have much of a choice. “Yeah, man. I got your back later, Nigel. Let me get my man home real quick.”

  Nigel nods his head affirmatively and shoots Rah a look that says to let it go. Nigel then looks at Mickey’s packed car and shakes his head before going inside to make more room for her stuff. Good luck.

  “What did I miss?” Rah, who’s feeling out of the loop and overworked can’t let it slide—not with another full car to unpack.

  “I better check on the girls,” I say, avoiding Rah’s question while listening through the baby monitor attached to my waist. I put them both down for a nap about an hour ago, even though Rahima was resistant to the idea. She’ll be three at the end of the month and now that she’s not the baby of the crew anymore, feels she’s also too old to sleep with Nickey. I wave to Chance and glare hard at Jeremy before joining Nigel inside.

  I peak into Rah’s little brother Kamal’s room and check on the girls, who look settled in their sleep for the time being. Soon it’ll be dinnertime for everyone and I have to be in the house before nightfall—Mama’s orders.

  “Hey, y’all,” Mickey says, entering the living room with a strange look on her face and no bags in hand. “Nigel, Rah needs you outside.”

  “All right,” Nigel says, leaving us alone in the room. He takes one more look at the overstuffed living room, sighs deeply, and steps back outside to finish the task at hand.

  “Jayd, I need your help,” Mickey whispers, reaching into her skirt pocket and handing me a folded envelope. “My ex-man knows about Tre and me.”

  This can’t be good. I open the letter to see Mickey’s incarcerated ex-boyfriend’s handwriting in red ink and read the words aloud.

  “And the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet color, and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, having a golden cup in her hand full of abominations and filthiness of her fornication. Revelations, 17:4.” At least he’s making good use of his time reading, like most brothers who are locked up.

  The biblical words are repeated over and over again on each line of the ruled page. The epic tale of the whore of Babylon looks like blood spilled across the page and I know it has more to do with than his gang allegiance. It gives me chills just touching the page.

  Mickey looks nervously toward the front door and I don’t blame her. If Nigel sees this he’s going to go ballistic, which is exactly why she should tell him before he finds out some other way about her unwanted pen pal.

  “Are you going to tell Nigel?” I ask, refolding the letter and slipping it back into the white envelope. I know Mickey thought she was saved when her ex-man was arrested, but far from it. If anyone’s too hood for his own good, it’s Mickey’s former man. We don’t have to see his spinning chrome wheels creep around the streets of Compton for the time being like the predator that he is, but we all know his penitentiary address is just temporary. No matter the charge, he always makes his way back to the hood.

  “No, and you can’t say a word to anyone. I need your help, Jayd,” Mickey says, alluding to my spiritual powers.

  It always trips me out how my friends and enemies alike will come to me for my spiritual assistance when they’re desperate, but judge me every other day of the week for practicing voodoo. It wasn’t too long ago Mickey was pissed that I used my mom’s gift of sight to absorb her labor pains. Now she’s begging for more of my healing. Go figure.

  “This is serious, Mickey.” I look toward the girls’ room already scared for their safety if Mickey’s ex finds out where they live. Who knows what he’s bound to do if he finds out that she and Nigel are living together with Tre’s baby. The shit will hit the fan and go flying all over the neighborhood.

  “I know. That’s why I need you to handle it for me, Jayd, please. My ex needs to go away—forever.” Mickey’s eyes are more intense than I’ve ever seen before, almost scaring me she’s so frightened.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” My friend
and I lock eyes feeling the depth of the pact we’ve just made. I’ll do whatever I can to keep my family safe and that includes my crew.

  Nickey Shantae screams out of her nap and I know she heard everything her mother and I just said. I know how Mickey feels. I want my enemies to disappear, too. Payback’s a bitch, or two in my case with Sandy and Cameron tripping hard. But for Mickey and her ex-thug-of-man, it’s downright dangerous. Bristol Palin makes being a teenaged mother seem glamorous and dealing with her ex-boyfriend easy-breezy Cover Girl, but that’s far from the reality. As Mickey’s learning the hard way, all that glitters is definitely not gold or any other kind of metal. All that’s shining over here is bull and she’s ass-deep in it.

  2

  Sittin’ on Chrome

  You sold your soul to the evil and the lust

  And the passion and the money?”

  —NNEKA

  What a week it’s already been and it’s only Monday.

  Mama and Netta are busy at the beauty shop and I’ve been working in the spirit room at Mama’s house in Compton all day, as usual. I never knew there was so much involved in being a newly initiated priestess. Instead of cleaning out the vessels and other various items on our family shrines once a week, I have to clean them daily and they each have their own specific rituals. And now with my own vessels to care for it means more work for me. But if it’s one thing I know how to do it’s how to get my hustle on and that includes my spirit work, too.

  According to the spirit book, I can recite an odu—story of one my ancestors including the orisha—and use it to fall into a sort of trance and claim the sight used within the moral tale to get through whatever situation I may be dealing with. So basically, all this time I’ve been dreaming about the paths of the women who came before me and sometimes retaining their powers I should instead be able to do that through controlled daydreaming. When I master that skill I’ll be the baddest chick ever.

  While studying my own assignments I’m also researching the Bible verse Mickey got in the mail Saturday. I’ll have to get the letter from Mickey next time I see her to search for more clues about her ex-man’s next move. With his cryptic ass we never know what’s going to happen next. Something’s off about the verse he chose and I have a feeling this is just the tip of his vengeful iceberg.

  If Mama caught me off my game she’d be disappointed, especially with all of the laundry and other chores I’ve got in front of me. Constantly wearing white isn’t easy, and as soon as anything I’m wearing gets dirty I have to change, thus the never-ending loads.

  “Hey, Tweet,” Daddy says, walking into the living room where I’ve set up shop. My uncles are out in the streets and Jay is hanging at his friend’s house. Until my grandfather came home, I was the only one here and loving it.

  “Hey, Daddy,” I say, closing the Bible before rising from the dining room table to give him a kiss on the cheek. I walk over to the couch and sit down ready to work. It’s only seven and if I get through this basket quickly I can take a bath before everyone else gets home. I’ll be so glad to get back to my mom’s apartment in a couple of weeks. I wish I could snap my fingers and make it happen sooner. Even with my jerk of an uncle Karl gone, it’s still too many people in this house for me.

  “What are you reading?” Daddy eyes the weathered Bible Mama gave me when I was christened as a baby. I remember the day vaguely, but when I touch the worn, white Bible it feels like it was yesterday. As a caul baby, Nickey Shantae should be able to recall some of her earliest moments when she’s older, too.

  “Oh, I was just looking over a verse I came across for more clarification.”

  Daddy looks up from the Bible and smiles like a kid in a candy store. I return the smile and continue to fold my fresh whites praying the conversation’s over. I just want to get on with my evening and chill for a while before Mama gets home. I know once she walks in I’ll have something else to do.

  “You know, Jayd, the new youth pastor at the church is overwhelmed with all of the students enrolled. He needs help teaching the last week of vacation Bible school,” Daddy says matter-of-factly tapping the leather-bound cover before zipping it closed for me. Why is he telling me about his church business? Daddy has to know I’m not the one to teach the Bible to anyone.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I say. Daddy continues tapping my small Bible, reminding me of when we would go to see Daddy preach every Sunday. I used to love dressing up in my Sunday best and pretending that the clutch-sized Holy Book was a purse. I wanted to be just like Mama and still do in a lot of ways.

  “Well, Tweet, you shouldn’t be. The job’s yours if you want it. Your grandmother told me you couldn’t work on anyone’s hair until you’re given the okay, but teaching is still allowed. It pays ten dollars an hour. Think about it and let me know.”

  Damn, that’s some nice change for back to school clothes. When I was initiated, Mama’s clients showered both her and I with lots of gifts. Most of them had cash attached, but it isn’t enough to make up for the money I’m missing not working.

  “What’s the catch?”

  Daddy watches me fold my lapas, headscarves, and other white clothes blinded by the seemingly endless wave of white. I know how he feels. I can’t wait to throw a splash of color in the mix.

  “The catch is you get to do something good for four days and get paid well while doing it. I’ll talk to your grandmother about it, but I’m sure it’ll be okay with her. Even iyawos can work in the church.” Daddy winks at me as both our cells ring. From the wide smile across his face I know it’s not Mama. Daddy walks toward the front door and out to his clean Cadillac parked in the driveway. Even the chrome wheels are shining in the evening sun. Daddy’s going out and as usual it’s without his wife. Can men ever be trusted?

  “What up, Nigel?” I say, flipping my phone open and wedging it between my left shoulder and ear. I can’t afford to lose another minute of folding if I want to get in the bathroom while I still have some privacy.

  “What up, chick? You coming over Rah’s tonight? Chance wants to holler at you about something and he asked me to give you a call since he and his mom are at the movies right now.”

  I’m so glad Chance forgave his mom and they’re back to their old ways. I know they still have a lot of healing to do with her hiding his adoption all these years, but they love each other and will make it through this crisis. It also helps that I put a little something on the two of them to help with their hot heads. With a little patience and understanding Chance and Mrs. Carmichael moved toward forgiveness by themselves.

  “Nah, bro. I can’t make it this evening, but I’ll try and catch y’all tomorrow after work.” Usually I would turn down a job teaching at Daddy’s church, but it’s only four days and I need the money.

  “Bet. By the way, Chance wanted to let you know he’s still looking into the photograph and that he spoke to Cameron. The trick admits she straddled Jeremy in the chair and kissed him. Chance also suspects that even if the picture’s real, she set up the whole thing to look like more than it was.”

  I know I should feel some sense of relief, but I don’t. All I feel is sick to my stomach at the thought of that heffa touching my man.

  “What does she weigh, like a buck ten? Jeremy could’ve kept her off his lap if he really wanted to.” I’m not giving an inch on the matter. “No matter how it happened, the facts remain the same. They were kissing and had the audacity to make a permanent record of the shit.” My laundry’s taking the brunt of my frustration. I’m just glad it’s not one of my clients’ heads.

  “Jayd, sometimes you’re too hood for your own good, you know that?” Nigel says, half laughing. I know he’s not calling me hood when he and his baby mama are shacking up with his best friend. If that’s not hood then I don’t know what is.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, folding my clothes harder than necessary. I was cool until this phone call. Now I’m getting hot all over again and that’s the last thing I need.
>
  “It means sometimes you’re too damn hard on a nigga, Jayd.” Nigel sighs heavily and I can feel his frustration. “Jeremy didn’t mean any harm and Cameron admits to being the one who kissed him, not the other way around. I thought you’d be happy knowing the truth.”

  “Nigel, where have we heard this story before?” If this doesn’t sound like Rah and Sandy’s twisted love story my name’s not Jayd Jackson.

  “I know what it sounds like and I’m not the one to defend Jeremy, but he’s not Rah.” He sounds just like Jeremy now, always claiming he and my ex-boyfriend are nothing alike.

  Rah’s never cared for me dating Jeremy for many reasons, the main one being that Rah will always have a soft spot for me. And Jeremy doesn’t like it that Rah and me share a special connection that baffles him. They both have more in common than they realize. Maybe they’ll be great friends once I’m not dating either of them.

  “I’m just too real for that shit, Nigel, and you know it.”

  I stack the last of the towels in the wicker basket and head to Mama’s room to put them up. There’s still no drawer or closet space for me in this house, so my clean laundry stays in the basket and the dirty laundry goes in another one at the foot of my twin bed across from my grandmother’s matching bed. It’s been nice being back with Mama. I need her and she needs me, but I think even she has to admit I’ve outgrown this space in more ways than one.

  “Yes, Jayd. We all know you like to keep it one hundred and all, but this time keeping it real might be the wrong way to go. It’s just a suggestion, girl. You know I’ve got your back either way.”

  Maybe Nigel and Chance are right. I can give Jeremy a pass this time. After all, I did kiss Mr. Adewale, even if I was in a trance and thought we were my great-grandparents at the time. Luckily the shit happened off school property and it’s our little secret, saving us both the embarrassment and Mr. Adewale his job. But Cameron’s not getting off so easy. She hasn’t encountered anyone from my hood being crossed and I’m going to make sure she never does it again. The only way to stop chicks like her is to give them a taste of their own medicine and that’s just what I intend to do. Quitting Jeremy would be playing into her hand and this is one game she’d better be prepared to lose.

 

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