by L. Divine
“Russell, inside, now,” Esmeralda commands.
Russell grunts and obeys his master, running through the porch gate and into the confines of Esmeralda’s home. Nothing about that encounter was normal.
“Jayd, are you okay? What are you doing out here alone?” Mama asks, exiting Netta’s large pickup. Netta lowers the volume to hear for herself that I’m okay. She has to pick up her son from work across town; otherwise she’d accompany Mama inside.
“Yeah. Esmeralda was just walking her pet,” I say, locking the car door behind me and helping Mama with her loot. We wave good night to Netta.
“If you talk to a man like he’s a dog he’ll act like one,” Mama says, heading toward the spirit room with her heavy bags in tow. I close the dilapidated wooden gate behind me, ready to get on with this evening’s festivities.
“I hear that, Mama.” I should share that bit of wisdom with Mickey, not that she’ll heed my advice. She and Nigel aren’t on the best of terms and rather than sweet-talking him she’s been giving him hella lip in return.
“Esmeralda’s even given that old fool a new name: Russell. I don’t know why. His name’s Rousseau. Always has been and always will be no matter how much she denies it.”
I take Mama’s bags so she can find her keys to the small house. “I can tell that jackass anywhere when I see him. I don’t remember much about him other than he was a fisherman in New Orleans and they dated briefly before he disappeared. I’ve got a bad vibe, especially with Esmeralda’s growing influence in the community.”
We settle into the warm space removing our shoes at the door. I place the bags in the main room and join Mama at the kitchen table for some tea.
“Mama, do you think vampires are real?” I ask, easing in to my dream. “I had a dream about Queen Califia getting the blood sucked out of her by a vampire version of Cortes.” She dismissed Misty’s teeth as a potion that will eventually wear off. But real vampires are something completely different.
“Jayd, we don’t need real vampires in our neighborhood. We’ve got enough evil to deal with: drugs, poverty, and other bloodsuckers take the life out of our people and make them slaves until they die. Look at Pam. She was once a beautiful little girl, just like Rahima. One challenge after another beat that girl down to the point where she had no more fight left in her. Eventually, she just gave in.”
“Yeah, Mama. But I mean white folks’ vampires; I’m talking Twilight, Dracula, The Lost Boys, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all.” Mama looks at me and sees I’m really freaked out by my latest vision. Dealing with potions and sleepwalking episodes is one thing, supernatural beings trying to take a bite out of my ass is on another level.
“Well, Jayd, Mama Califia’s gift of sight was to see the unseen. So if you saw a vampire then you have to trust your instinct. Maybe she’s warning you to notice what’s hidden in plain sight.” Something about Russell gives me the feeling he’s the one I’m being warned against.
“What else do you know about Esmeralda’s new man?” I ask, sipping the hot tea Mama poured for us. From the ingredients in the bags we’re making dinner for the orisha. As hungry as I am I might have to take a sample of the meal before we serve it to the shrine.
“I know he’s a damn fool who should’ve stayed in whatever New Orleans gutter he crawled out of. His people are no good. Him and his younger brothers are heroin and crack dealers. His younger brothers picked rape and murder as their chosen professions. There’s a thread of evil in his bloodline that goes back to their European predecessors.”
“So vampires are real?” I ask. We both rise from the table and wash our hands in the kitchen sink ready to cook. Mama passes me the plastic bags full of groceries for washing. I miss being in the kitchen with Mama on a daily basis. There’s nothing like her cooking or the knowledge she drops while throwing down. I take the green bell peppers from the strainer and begin chopping them on my mini cutting board and pass my grandmother the celery to prepare.
“Vampires are as real as zombies are in our culture, Jayd. There are many types of venomous, bloodsucking creatures in the world, not just the ones you see on television or read in a book. But really, who has time for that kind of shit?” Mama continues chopping the celery until she cuts into her own flesh. “Shit!”
Before the four letter word is fully out of her mouth, we hear Esmeralda’s back door slam shut where we see her new dude’s on the porch looking dead at Mama through the window.
“Mama, are you okay?” I ask without taking my eyes off of our audience. He’s salivating; he wants to get over here so bad, but why?
“I’m fine, Jayd,” Mama says, running her finger under the cold water from the faucet. “It’s just a little knick.”
We both continue looking at Esmeralda’s man looking at us.
“What the hell is wrong with him?” I ask while passing Mama a bandage from the first aid kit under the sink.
“Like I said, Jayd, there are all types of vampires in the world. And some are attracted to very specific blood types. There are a few out there searching for Williams women blood and will try to get it any way they can.”
“That’s not good,” I say, placing the bandage over Mama’s wound. Russell goes back inside as quickly as he appeared. With the wound covered he’s lost interest in our activity.
“No, it’s not,” Mama says, rubbing her sore finger. “But like everything else in life, there are the consequences that come with the blessings. Our enemies will live as long as we do. It’s just a part of life, Jayd.”
This is a whole new level of hating I’m not prepared for. Even with my ancestors in my corner vampires, shape-shifters, and anything else Esmeralda’s got in her arsenal’s starting to freak me way the hell out.
“I don’t know how you’ve dealt with Esmeralda all these years.” We resume our food preparation with caution.
“Real friends and family are essential for survival in this dog-eat-dog world we find ourselves in,” Mama says, putting the chopped vegetables in a large glass bowl before moving on to the next task. “Speaking of friends, Dr. Whitmore told me you paid him a visit yesterday. Take his medicine and watch yourself when you’re alone. Our enemies are waiting for a weak moment and we can’t give it to them, child. Never turn your back on our enemies.”
And enemies we have. It seems like that’s all I’ve got these days. I know my crew are my best friends, but they always have so much drama going on in their own lives they’re not much help to me. Sometimes I feel alone in this world with no one who truly understands what it is I go through on a daily basis. I’m trying not to get overwhelmed but the shit is hard. With haters on my ass at home and at school when can a girl catch a break?
The rest of the week has been rather uneventful, but it’s kind of hard to beat all that went down last weekend. Mrs. Bennett made sure to remind me about my necessity to show proof of residency every damn day. My mom finally made the appointment for this morning without any notice. I’m grateful she fit my needs into her busy schedule but why did she have to wait until Friday to do it? I wanted one day of peace this week and sitting in the main office for any amount of time is the exact opposite of my wish.
“Come on, Jayd. Let’s get this shit over with. I’ve got to get to work on time all week if I’m going to take next Friday off to go to Cabo with my boo,” my mom says as she smoothes the form-fitting dress over her hips admiring her figure in the mirror attached to her closet door. My mom’s been jogging overtime to get rid of the extra fifteen pounds she put on in the year she’s been with Karl. He feeds her well and treats her even better. It must be nice to think the world revolves around your schedule.
“I heard that, young lady. Don’t forget who you’re talking to, verbally or not.” My mom knows I’m telling the truth no matter how much it may hurt.
“Mom, why are you mad at me? It’s not my fault you didn’t get your mail,” I say, pouting like a five-year-old.
My mom slits her emerald eyes at me and I know I
’ve gone too far. As Mama likes to remind me every so often, no matter how old I get I don’t have the right to talk back to my elders—even when I’m right.
“Watch it, little girl,” my mom says, checking herself in the mirror one more time. Her low-cut, knee length dress shows just enough cleavage to incite the hater in others without going overboard. And her Steve Madden black pumps give the outfit just the right finishing touch to look professional, yet sexy.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know I slipped, but Jayd, I’m going to need you to pick up my mail from now on. I don’t have the time to call Mary and check on it and you know she’s busy with all of those babies and what not.”
The what not is her man being strung out on cocaine, stealing from their family business, and subsequently running off with the nanny. Mary and my mom have been tight for years, but because of all the unexpected drama, Mary fell off the radar and the mail went right along with it. But still, my mom should’ve kept on top of it. Then we wouldn’t have to go into the main office this morning and deal with this bull. She knows they send her a new affidavit to sign every year and she has to show proof of residency just like everyone else. How could she forget when it’s her only responsibility as far as my education is concerned?
“Never mind all that, Jayd,” my mom says, grabbing her purse and unlocking the front door. “Let’s go before traffic gets bad. That’s your problem. You don’t know when to let shit go.”
Whether I let this go or not, she’s still wrong, but at least she’s handling her business now. Maybe I’ll learn to let go when people learn to do what they’re supposed to.
My mom parks Kurtis’s Camry in front of the main office and I pull up behind her. Usually I’d park in the lot, but I don’t want to risk making my mom wait while I find a spot. She’s already irritated enough that she had to drive all the way to Redondo Beach early in the morning and I don’t want to piss her off even more.
“I’m always amazed at how big this campus is,” my mom says as she exits her vehicle. She’s only been here three times, including this visit. I can see how my high school can be overwhelming.
“Me, too.”
We lock our cars and head toward the front steps. My mom runs her hand over her smooth ponytail, adjusts the Gucci bag on her shoulder and opens one of the double doors to the main building.
“This way,” I say, pointing toward my counselor’s office. Mr. Adelizi’s been waiting for me to take care of this since last week. Hopefully he’s prepared and we can get on with this formality quickly.
“Good morning, Mr. Adelizi. This is my mother, Lynn Jackson,” I say, introducing them before sitting in one of two chairs opposite his chair on the other side of the desk.
“So, you’re Jayd’s mother,” Mr. Adelizi says, obviously enamored by my mom’s beauty, as most men are. There’s just something about Lynn Marie Williams-Jackson that stops dudes in their tracks. Before her engagement she was the hottest chick on the scene, with expensive gifts and stalkers alike. Now that my mom’s nearly settled down, she’s happier, but I know she still loves the attention.
“The one and only.” My mom smiles at my counselor as he gestures for her to take a seat. “Here’s my current proof of residency,” my mom says, whipping out her car insurance bill and placing it on Mr. Adelizi’s overwhelmed desk. “Where do I sign?” she asks, getting down to business. My mom has no time to waste, especially not on a homely white dude.
“I’ll get the paperwork from the secretary. Wait right here,” Mr. Adelizi says, stepping from behind the cluttered desk he’s always buried beneath. On his way out he knocks over a cup of coffee setting on the bookshelf closest to the door, spilling it all over the place.
“Are you okay?” I ask, taking a few napkins off his desk and passing them to him. My mom tries to stifle her giggle, but it’s no use. The embarrassment is written all over his face and his tie.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Mr. Adelizi says, patting his clothing. “I’ll be right back.”
“So that’s the guy in control of your college future? Great.” My mom rolls her bright eyes and makes me laugh. Leave it to her to blame the victim.
“He’s not as bad as he used to be,” I say, feeling bad for the poor guy.
After a few moments, Mr. Adelizi reappears with the forms. “Just sign right there and here.”
“Ms. Jackson. So you’re single?” Mr. Adelizi asks, noticing my mom’s signature.
“Not for long,” she says, showing off her emerald and diamond ring.
If I didn’t know better I’d say Mr. Adelizi was disappointed. He’s got jungle fever bad. I didn’t even know he liked black women.
“Neither did he,” my mom says so only the two of us can hear.
“Well, I think that’s it. Thank you for coming in, Ms. Jackson.” Mr. Adelizi checks over the papers while my mom and I get up ready to roll. My mom wants to get her day started and I want to get mine over.
“You’re welcome, and hopefully I won’t have to see you again until my baby graduates in June.” My mom shakes Mr. Adelizi’s hand and exits the cramped space. My mom’s time is valuable and she has no problem letting everyone who has the pleasure of interacting with her know it.
“Yes, but if you need anything don’t hesitate to call.” Mr. Adelizi reaches into his wet shirt pocket and hands my mom a coffee-stained business card.
“I’ll do that.” My mom politely takes the damp card and exits his office behind me. I wave to my counselor anxious to get on with this Friday. I have much work to do at Netta’s after school. There’s much money to be made this weekend and shopping to do. Now that my ends are stacking steadily I again can take time Saturday to revamp my closet full of new colorful clothing before studying for the rest of the night. This year has started with a bang both academically and socially. Maybe it’s just me, but so far senior year hasn’t been as great as people make it out to be.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say, giving her a hug. I’m glad she accompanied me to school this morning no matter how brief her visit has been. I miss hanging with my mommy.
“No problem, baby. I’ll see you later.” Later when? The only time I see my mom is when she drops by her apartment to stock up on clean clothes because she’s run out at Karl’s house. And with Jeremy and I not speaking, her small crib has been especially lonely.
“Jayd, Ms. Jackson,” Jeremy says, almost running straight into us as he approaches the main office from the front door, late as usual. I want to tell him that I was just thinking about him, but words don’t flow as easily as they used to between us.
“Hey, Jeremy,” my mom says, passing him by and forcing me to do the same. I want to reach out to him, but I know it’s not the right time.
“Nice charm,” Jeremy says, commenting on my veve. The golden crossed-out heart illuminates off my white blouse making it hard to miss. “It kind of looks like a broken heart, doesn’t it?” Jeremy’s blue eyes are riddled with pain. I feel him; my heart’s broken, too. Jeremy looks away and continues his sprint toward first period.
A broken heart is a good way to describe life in general, especially life in high school. Everyone I know has drama in and out of his or her love lives. It sucks when a good thing is gone; it’s as simple as that. But if the end is a part of life why does it have to hurt so much?
“You’re really jaded by this little white boy, aren’t you, Jayd?” my mom says, opening the double doors and leading the way down the few steps to her car. My mom just doesn’t get it.
“I just want to be normal and to have a normal, happy senior year of high school. Is that too much to ask?” I lean up against the Camry watching my mom walk around to the driver’s side.
“Hell yes, it’s too much to ask, girl. You have the visual powers of all the women who came before you and it’s an amazing blessing,” she says, unlocking the door and getting in. My mom starts the car and rolls down the front windows so we can wrap our conversation up in person, not that we need to. We can spe
ak mind to mind no matter where we are. “Being normal is completely out of the question.”
I bend down over the passenger’s side window to make eye contact with my mom so she can really vibe off what I’m feeling. “Sometimes I just wish I could walk around school invisible. I wish no one knew my name, I wish I didn’t have to speak out in class or deal with Misty’s evil ass. I just want to know what it’s like to not have people hating on me for a change.”
My mom laughs loudly as she reaches across the passenger’s side reassuringly rubbing my forearm. “Jayd, with or without those powerful brown eyes, you’d still be a gorgeous, intelligent, fierce girl. And you’re from the hood at a nearly all-white school, which means you have a lot of swag. You’ll always be talked about whether you like it or not. And high school is just the beginning. From this point on every relationship, job or other school you deal with will remind you of being a teenager. The haters may get older and more stealthlike, but the game is the same. So, stop whining because everyone doesn’t get how you roll. They never will.”
“Bye, Mom. I love you,” I say, standing up to let her get to work. I know she’s trying to help, but I don’t feel any better. Misty’s a vampire, Jeremy’s kissing other girls, and Mrs. Bennett’s out for my ass, as usual, not to mention the cheer bull. Normal sounds so good right now.
“Have a good day, baby. And remember, Jayd, life is a gamble; you win some and you lose some. Whether or not you play the game is up to you,” my mom says in her mind to mine as she turns the corner.
“Thanks, Mom.” I think back walking into the building. My mom’s right. I can’t hide from the world or my enemies. There are always casualties in confrontation and with the wars on my hands there’s about to be some bloodshed around here.
10
Crapshoot
Makes no sense to play the game/
