“Is he with you?” I ask. “Zeppelin, I mean?”
“Nah. Your boy just up and left.”
He did not. “Are you serious?”
I’m sure Judas can hear the surprise in my voice because he adds, “Sorry, Jerzie. He straight bounced. Didn’t even say bye or drop dead or nothin’. Am I on speakerphone? Like, can cops hear me? Hello?”
“Judas. Can you please focus?” I’m crying again. I wipe my tears. It’s all right. I don’t care if Zeppelin up and left.
But that’s a lie, because it’s not all right. And I do care. How could he leave like that? How could he not make sure I was okay?!
“We got your back though, Jerzie,” Judas adds. “Your family will be there soon, even if your boyfriend left you high and dry. We got you. Hold tight.”
As if I have anything else to do? “Thanks, Judas.”
“Fa sho. Oh, and man, you beatin’ Cinny’s ass has about 22 million views on YouTube last time I checked.”
“Judas.”
“Sorry. I am on speakerphone, huh?”
I groan. “Yes, Judas. You are.”
“Well, whoever is listening... Cinny had it comin’. If it wasn’t Jerzie, somebody was gonna do it. That girl was due an ass-whoopin’.”
I look at the lieutenant. “Can you please hang up on him?”
“Wait. Jerzie!” Judas calls out. “I know you’re like, a felon now, but I woulda done the same thing. I mean, I didn’t. Cuz I’m on speakerphone and I don’t wanna get charged with nothin’. Black man without a record here. But I woulda. Hope that makes you feel better.”
It does. A little.
“Sir?” The lieutenant is speaking to Judas now. “Would you happen to be able to connect us to Jerzie’s legal guardian or parents? A telephone number where we can contact them would be nice. Jerzie claims she doesn’t know her parents’ number.”
I listen as Judas gives the officer Dad’s cell. So many things should be going through my head. But what am I thinking about? Zeppelin. It seems to always be Zeppelin. I can’t believe he left me.
How could he?
* * *
The officers who brought me in said I wouldn’t see the inside of a cell, but that’s exactly where I’m taken next. Though it’s not the sort of cell I imagined, with black bars and a bunch of angry gang members staring me down. It’s a simple, tiny room; concrete walls, a door.
I sit on a concrete ledge cushioned with the sort of plastic mats you’d keep in a tent on a camping trip. Not exactly comfortable, plus I smell the distinct scents of blood and throw-up. Uggh. Somebody probably died on this mat. But at least I’m alone and can officially suffer in silence. I assume the fetal position and close my eyes.
I realize I fell asleep because it takes me a second to remember I’m in a jail cell after the door pops open. How long was I sleeping?
A kind-sounding female officer says, “Jerzie Jhames?”
“Yes?” I stand, widen my eyes, and try to look alert.
“You’re headed home. You can follow me.”
I attempt to straighten out my wrinkled mess of clothes and begrudgingly follow the officer out of the cell, where I’m led back down the long corridor. Around a corner, we reach a desk, where my plastic bag of jewelry is slid across the counter and I sign some papers that I don’t bother reading, though I do see COURT HEARING at the top of one. Uggh. I get copies of everything. I wonder if it would be frowned upon to toss it all in the garbage.
Next, I’m led through another door, down another long hallway, around another corner. Finally, I’m escorted into a vestibule where a series of doors will lead to my freedom. The officer gives me a nod, which I assume means, Bye and have a nice life. Through thick panes of glass in the set of double doors, I see Dad, his arm wrapped around Mom. They’re talking to a man. I’d guess he’s a lawyer. My lawyer. Mom and Dad had to hire a lawyer? I’m so superdead.
When the door is pushed open and I step outside, all three heads turn toward me. I’m literally cowering, hovering by the wall. Waiting on Mom to charge at me and scream, What were you thinking, Jerzie?! We’ve all sacrificed so much for you!
Knowing Dad will follow up with his own reprimand. You have no regard, do you, Jerzie? For us. For your brother. For your aunt. It’s all about you.
Speaking of my aunt. Where is she? And Judas?
It’s the man who approaches me first.
“Hello, Jerzie.” His voice sounds familiar, and I watch as he runs a hand through his thick mane of hair. It reminds me of the way Zeppelin runs his hand through his hair. In fact...
Holy. Shit.
“My name is Daniel Ricci,” he says kindly. “Zeppelin is my son.”
And now I see him. Off in the distance. A very tired-looking Zeppelin sits on a bench resting his head on one hand. He gives me a tiny wave with the other. He’s close enough that I can see his eyes are red, his face flushed, hair in typical Zeppelin fashion—pretty much everywhere. But he’s here. He’s here.
“I got a frantic call from my son demanding I come and help you. I’d do anything for my kids. Zeppelin knows that. So here I am.”
“And you should be damn grateful,” Dad calls out.
“He was here before we were, Jerzie,” Mom says. “You’d be spending the night in jail were it not for him.”
“Thank you so much, sir.” I speak softly, back to trying to twist my fingers off, staring at the dirty concrete. Not exactly the way I’d prefer to be introduced to Zeppelin’s family—fresh outta jail and all. But like he said. Here we are. “Not sure how I can properly thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank the dozens of videos Cinny’s fans took and posted online. Videos that show provocation. This is not felony assault. I’d call it a...misdemeanor catfight, if anything. I’m pretty certain the judge is gonna toss it out altogether. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now. Go home. Get some sleep. Go to work tomorrow. You’re gonna be fine.”
Am I? “But the restraining order. Cinny told me she was gonna get one. I can’t go to work.”
“A restraining order?” Another hand through the hair. God, Daniel Ricci is so similar to Zeppelin. “That takes time, paperwork. If Cinny opts to take that route, she’ll need to prove to a judge that you’re a dangerous threat to her. That will be tough to pull off.”
“I’m so embarrassed,” I admit to him. “I hope this doesn’t make you think badly of me.”
“We all make mistakes, Jerzie.” He looks at Zeppelin, and I note the sadness in his eyes. The same sadness I see with Zeppelin. “Heaven knows I’ve made quite a few in my life. Tomorrow is always a new day. To be better.” He sighs. “Wiser.”
I stare at him, wondering if he’s real. There’s a chance I could be imagining him. And of course now I understand Zeppelin’s dilemma. It would be nearly impossible to hate this kind, gentle, and clearly remorseful man. And yet, Zeppelin’s tried so hard to.
Mr. Ricci turns to Mom and Dad. “You have my info. Don’t be afraid to reach out to me for anything. Anything at all. It won’t be a bother.”
Mom and Dad shake hands with him and say their goodbyes. I’d ask if I can say goodbye to Zeppelin, but I don’t wanna press my luck or rock the boat any further. Cuz if I’m being honest, this boat almost sank to the bottom of the sea.
Zeppelin stands as his father approaches, and our eyes connect. He points to his eyes, places a hand over his heart, then points to me before turning and walking off with his dad.
I get the message.
I love you, too.
* * *
When we make it back to Mom and Dad’s car, Judas is in the back seat, sound asleep. For some reason, seeing him stretched out stuffed into the back of Mom and Dad’s car causes guilt to rise up my throat like bile. A very tired-looking Aunt Karla is leaning against the car, texting on her phone. She pocket
s it when she sees us approaching.
“Well, well, well.” She flips her long braids over her shoulder. “Look what the cat dragged all the way to the local precinct.”
“Can I say something, please?” I say. “Before you guys go in on me.”
In the back seat, Judas is waking, stretching, and yawning. Good. He needs to hear this.
“To all of you. Mom, Dad. Aunt Karla. Judas, too. I know I messed up. I know I wasn’t supposed to be with Zeppelin tonight and I...attacked...Cinny and got myself arrested and disobeyed you guys and dragged Judas into my mess. I’ve shamed my family.” I point to my chest and ow, too hard. “I’ve shamed myself.” I extend my arms. “On a national scale. I’ve been shamed. I’m so ashamed. Dear God, I am so ashamed.”
“Jerzie, be quiet. You sound like a lunatic.” Judas has lowered the back window and is peeking his head out of the car. “I already told everybody everything. Plus they saw the video. They know Cinny needed to get her ass beat.”
“Judas.” Mom places a hand on her hip.
“What?” He yawns. “She did.”
Aunt Karla smacks her lips. “She stole your song and tried to pass it off as hers? That poor child needs more than an ass-whoopin’, she needs some sort of intervention.”
“A good psychiatrist is what she needs,” Mom adds. “And to think, she got that poor boy fired, too.”
Poor boy? Zeppelin is poor boy now?
“Maybe a religious conversion could help, too.” Judas nods like his idea is the best one yet.
“And when she said having nothing and being a nobody was your destiny?” Dad whistles.
“The absolute nerve of that little girl.” Mom shakes her head.
“Wait.” I look around, studying the angry faces of my family members. “You guys are...defending me?”
“And then she got real brave.” Aunt Karla yanks opens the back door as if she didn’t hear a word I just said. “Talking about I dare you to hit me.”
“Bad gamble.” Judas scoots over, making room for Aunt Karla. “Jerzie was like ka-plow. And Cinny hit the deck like blam.”
Mom and Dad move around and pull open the front car doors.
“Bet she won’t make any more dares like that.” Dad slides into the driver’s seat.
I watch them, going in on Cinny like she’s the one with the problem. Not me. A smile creeps slowly onto my face.
“Jerzie, my dear.” Mom reaches into her purse and pulls out my phone. I step slowly to her lowered window. Is she about to do what I think she’s about to do? She extends the phone to me. “I think you’ve suffered enough. As promised. I never turned it on.”
And suddenly it’s in my hands. I’m holding my baby. I can’t resist. I bring it to my lips, kiss it tenderly and say, in my best Sméagol imitation, “My preciousss.”
“Jerzie Jhames!” Aunt Karla barks. “Girl, get in the car. Didn’t I tell you cell phones are dirtier than landfills?”
I slide into the back seat beside Aunt Karla. “I thought you said they were dirtier than public urinals.”
“That, too.” She clicks on her seat belt. “And why am I in the middle? I’m the oldest. One of y’all needs to switch with me.”
“You’re the shortest.” Judas slides his seat belt over his shoulder. “By default the shortest human always sits in the middle seat. Deal with it, Auntie. Or grow.”
Dad starts the car, and I take a moment to absorb what is most likely, debatably, the greatest family of all time.
“Why the Devil You Come Between Us? I Was Hurt Under Your Arm”
I think I’ve used up all the hot water in Aunt Karla’s house. Seriously, I’ve dried up all the water wells in Brooklyn. Wait. Are there water wells in Brooklyn? Anyway, I think I’ve sufficiently washed off the stench of jail. All I have to do is burn the clothes I was wearing and dump the ashes in the East River. Then the jail gods will see to it I’m never arrested again.
I crawl under the covers. Mom and Dad have Farrah’s room for the night, so I’ve been reduced to couch surfing. After sleeping on a plastic mat in a jail cell, you won’t hear me complaining. Besides, I’ve been waiting for the right moment to power up my phone, and it feels like the moment has come at last. I know there’s gonna be an overwhelming amount of messages and texts. Friends from school, Riley wondering where the hell I’ve been, and messages from Zeppelin, too. Messages he sent before he knew I didn’t have my precious.
Zeppelin. I twist the bracelet he gifted me around and around my wrist. It feels like a part of me now. Like I’ve had this thing my whole life. And of course the thought of him warms me up better than a hot shower ever could. He didn’t leave me. He came to my rescue.
It’s 3:00 a.m. Today begins the first tech rehearsal at Broadway Theatre. I will show up for work. Not sure if they’ll let me stay. But like Mom and Dad said, You show up with your head held high, Jerzie. You have nothing to be ashamed of.
I know they’re right.
I press the side button on my phone and wait for a moment as it lights up. I ignore the whopping 162 missed text messages. Dang. That’s a lot. Instead, I tap the internet icon and type Cinny’s name into the search bar. I wanna see the videos. I wanna read what people are saying about it. About us. About me. Only the link that pops up makes me tear off the covers, jump off the couch, and gasp. The top trending story isn’t about our fight at all. I read:
Fans swarm the hospital as reports emerge that R & B
superstar Cinny was involved in a head-on collision.
This cannot be real. I rush upstairs, knocking softly on Aunt Karla’s door. A moment passes before it creaks open to present my very sleepy-looking Aunt. Her braids are wrapped in a silk scarf. She rubs her tired eyes. “What’s wrong, Jerzie?”
I thrust my phone at her. She stretches out her eyes to read the headline. “Jesus.”
“Aunt Karla,” I whisper. “I feel terrible. I don’t want anything bad to happen to her.”
“Of course you don’t, Jerzie. Neither do any of us.”
“What if she’s dead?” I cry.
“They’d send her back. She’d be way too much trouble in the afterlife.”
“Aunt Karla.”
“Jerzie.” She sighs. “I don’t know what to say except I’m positive she’s fine. Call it intuition. People get into car accidents all the time. She’s fine. Trust and believe, okay?”
I nod.
“Now try to get some sleep.”
* * *
Maybe I sleep for a few minutes. Mostly I toss and turn on the couch, wondering if time has ever literally slowed down. Because I swear that’s what’s happening right now. The Earth has finally stopped spinning. Around 5:00 a.m, I get a text from Nigel. The first tech rehearsal is canceled as they wait on word about Cinny. This is so real.
After reading the text, I decide sleep is an exercise in futility. At least for now. All I can do is scroll through stories on the web, waiting on some sort of update to surface. On Twitter, #PrayersForCinny is top trending. There is an outpouring of support. It soothes my soul a bit. TMZ says Cinny’s Range Rover was hit head-on. She and her driver are both reported to be in the ICU at Lenox Hill Hospital.
The intensive care unit? This is bad. This is so bad.
I wish I could text Zeppelin, but I know he doesn’t have his phone yet. I can read his texts. I decide to do that. It somehow makes me feel close to him, scrolling through the old messages:
Why won’t you talk to me?
Jerzie, please text me back ok?
I can explain if you’ll let me.
If you answer your phone I can explain.
Jerzie, I really care about you. I swear to God I do. Please, please, please talk to me.
This was a bad idea. Now my chest aches, thinking of how Zeppelin must’ve felt when he was sending these messages. Wishing I could re
ach through time to let him know I’m here. That I believe him. That I care, too.
A new text message comes through. It’s from Riley. I sit up. Riley!
Doooood. You beat up Cinny and now she’s in the hospital? Confuse me?
I tiptoe to the front door, punching the code to disarm the alarm system and quietly step outside. The sky is still black, but you can see people running in the dark, walking their dogs. You can feel the city slowly waking. I sit on the top stair of the stoop and tap on Riley’s name. She answers right away.
“Riley!”
“Jerzie? Where in the hell have you been?”
I laugh. “I knew you were gonna say that.”
“I have been calling and calling and texting and texting.”
“My mom took my phone away. I got it back a few hours ago.”
“Oh! And I saw your song on Instagram. I was superproud of you. But it made me cry so hard.”
I fill her in on everything—losing the phone, Zeppelin, the fight, the arrest, sleeping in a jail cell, Zeppelin’s dad coming to my rescue.
“So wait. Rewind,” Riley says. “Can we go back to Zeppelin’s apartment? On his bed. Under his covers. Can we just go back to that?”
“Riley.” I laugh. “Of all the things I said, that’s the only thing you heard, huh?”
“Well, I mean. It’s the highlight of the story. How was that?”
A black sedan catches my eye as it glides slowly down the street. Something about it feels strange to me. Almost like that car is here...for me. “Riley. Can I call you right, right back?”
“You better! I need to hear everything about this torrid love affair.”
I laugh. “I promise to give you all the details.”
I hang up and stand. The sedan slows to a stop right in front of Aunt Karla’s stoop. The back door is pushed open to reveal...Cinny. My breath catches in my throat when I see her. Dressed in sweats, a hoodie, and sneakers. Face scrubbed clean of even a trace of makeup. Eyes tired. She waves and slides out of the SUV onto the sidewalk. I walk down to meet her. “I thought you were in the ICU?”
Roman and Jewel Page 25
