Hood Lemonade Jamika's Vendetta (7 page)

“I’ll have to talk to her. Your old girl likes me. I could tell at open house,” he said.

“Of course she does, you kept flirting with her and telling her she looks like my sister. As a matter of fact, don’t try that shit no more,” Jamika joked.

“Do I detect a little jealousy? Your old girl is fine as hell.”

“Cut that out, Q. That ain’t funny.”

Jamika didn’t hear the loud stereo system, but she saw the souped up Caddy as it turned the corner. Quinton noticed the car, too. “I am going to get outta here, but call me. You never called, but I know you still got my number,” he said.

“I just might do that,” Jamika said, sliding off the hood of his Nissan, “thanks again, Q.”

“Anythang fo’ you!” he said, winking his eye.

“Um-hmm,” Jamika returned, with a smirk and a wave.

She turned to walk towards the house so that she would not have to face Zahrice. He was acting so possessive and violent lately, she had no idea what to expect from him. Zahrice parked his car parallel behind Quinton’s car so that he couldn’t back out. His face looked like that of a mad man’s. His face was contorted and his eyes bulged with anger. He was walking up to Quinton and Jamika felt as if she should calm him. Zahrice was up in Quinton’s face before she could intervene.

He yelled at Quinton, “What the fuck you doin’ at my lady’s house, Jitty bug?”

Surprisingly, Quinton held his ground. “You need to calm down, man. You don’t know me like that.”

Jamika broke in, “Look Zah, he was just droppin' off my—”

Zahrice cut her off, “You ain’t nuttin' but a slut! We ain’t even been broke up an hour, and you already got another nigga over here. What? You fuck this nigga or something’?”

Quinton spoke up again. “Look man. I was just dropping her books off that she left at school. You want to keep a girl like her; you need to be a little more secure. All those names you calling her ain’t necessary neither. That’s a young lady. You keep treating her like that, I will have her.”

At that moment, Jamika found a new respect for Quinton. He was standing up for her. She couldn’t help but smile. Her smile was immediately erased as Zahrice’s fist connected with her right eye. She fell back in the grass and when she looked up, she saw green and yellow spots floating around. It looked as if she’d stared directly into the sun.

She could hear the scramble of the two young men fighting. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision. By the time her sight returned, her neighbors had run over and were pulling Zahrice and Quinton apart.

Zahrice’s shirt was ripped and dirty. He was screaming to the top of his lungs, “I’ma kill you, Jit. Believe that shit! You might as well go ahead and buy yo’ bitch ass momma a black dress. That’s my word!”

Quinton’s face held a smirk. He didn’t look as if he’d been fighting at all. He went over and offered Jamika his hand to help her off the grass. The neighbors were telling Zahrice that he had better leave, or they would have to call the police. He finally agreed.

After Zahrice and the neighbors left, Jamika looked at Quinton and said, “Q. I am so sorry. I-I didn’t—”

He cut her off. “Hey, you are way too special to be sorry. Don’t ever let me hear you say that. That nigga has a problem. You better go inside and put some ice on that eye.” He bent over and kissed her softly on her rapidly swelling eye. He was then gone with a, “Call me.”

Three weeks had passed and Jamika was still on punishment. Her restrictions included no television, no telephone, no company and no leaving the house. Quinton was allowed over, only to bring her missed assignments. Quinton would sneak over during lunchtime to meet with her, while Felise was working. They had been talking on the phone every late night when Felise would go to sleep. They had become good friends and had a special affection for one another.

It was homecoming night, and Jamika was only allowed to go, because Quinton had begged Felise without mercy and had promised to pay for everything.

Felise liked Quinton a lot more than Zahrice. It was something about Zahrice that had always rubbed her the wrong way. She wondered what had happened between him and Jamika. He no longer came around. It seemed one day he was just suddenly out of the picture.

She looked in on Jamika. She was engrossed in preparing herself for her first high school homecoming dance. She looked on as Jamika applied makeup to her blackened eye, which still hadn’t regained all of its color. Felise still got a sick feeling when she remembered how she felt when she walked in the house and saw Jamika’s eye swollen shut.

The principal had called and said that she had been in an intense fight, yet she hadn’t expected that. Whoever the girl was that hit Jamika in the eye, had a hell of a punch, she was thinking.

Jamika’s hair had been cut into a short, sassy haircut, due to the large amount of hair she’d lost during the fight. Felise watched as she stepped into the long, blue, low-cut satin gown. She spun around and looked at herself approvingly. Felise felt so proud. “You look beautiful, Mika.”

“Thank you, Ma. Thanks for letting me go.” Jamika said.

Felise smiled at Jamika then ran off to get her camera. The phone rang, “Hello?” stated Felise. “Yeah, hold on. Mika! It’s Quinton!” Jamika had a brief, negative thought. Why was Quinton calling when he should be at her house? Was he cancelling? “Wassup, Q?” Jamika said, with slight disappointment.

“I’m on the porch. Come outside.”

“You’re on my porch? Why didn’t you knock, crazy?”

“Bring your butt outside! Dang!”

Jamika giggled. “Okay. I’m coming.”

Jamika mouthed to Felise, “He’s outside.” Jamika went over to the door and opened it. What she saw took her breath away. She knew that Quinton was handsome, but that night he looked like he could be GQ’s Man of the Year.

Quinton wore an all-white suit, with a blue tie and cummerbund. A white, plush gangster hat sat on his head, and he leaned against a white cane that he’d brought along as an accessory. In one hand, he held a brick cellular telephone that he used to call Jamika. In the other hand, he held a dozen, long stemmed roses toward Jamika.

Jamika accepted the roses. Felise was eating this all up. “Oooo, child move over. Let me get a picture of this. Y’all are too cute.” she said. “Whew-we, look-ee,” she said, referring to the white, stretch limo that neither herself nor Jamika noticed at first. “I told you Quinton is a nice boy, you betta recognize, girl.”

“That’s reka-nize, Momma!” Jamika said teasingly to Felise.

Felise ignored her and continued, “Stand over here by the limo so I can get a picture of you two.” They stood together and smiled as Felise clicked away. After listening to Felise’s long list of don’t do’s and be home by’s, they were finally off.

The homecoming dance was being held at the Double Tree Hotel, on the top floor in the Ballroom Penthouse. The music was enticing, and Jamika danced until her feet hurt. Jamika was having the time of her life. People whispered as she walked by, and some even pointed at her made up eye. Jamika was surprised and relieved that the stares did not bother her or alter her night.

As the slow song portion of the evening took over, Jamika and Quinton danced. His cologne filled her nostrils, as well as her spirit. She remembered the very first time they met and the effect that same cologne had on her. “What kind of cologne is that?” Jamika asked. “Why? Do you like it?”

“Yes, I do. It smells… uh… exotic.”

“Good choice of words… exotic… like me.”

“Whatever, Q,” she chuckled.

“So, when you gonna stop playing and be my girlfriend?”

“Q, you straight with me. Let’s keep it that way. I don’t have the best luck in relationships. Between Marquis and Zah, I just wanna chill for now, you know?”

“Marquis? Marquis Timmons?”

“Oh, I forgot. You didn’t know about that.”

“But, he’s been going out with Reva since forever.”

“Yeah, it’s a long story. I just need time for me, that’s the point. But hey, don’t stop being cool with me. I like having you around.”

“Well, I like being around.”

The dance ended at around midnight. Jamika had specific instructions from Felise to be home no later than 1:00 am. Quinton wanted to ride around in the limo before he took her home.

They walked out of the dance holding hands, laughing and enjoying one another’s company. As they reached valet to wait for their limo, Jamika noticed a car slowly approaching. She tugged at Quinton’s hand gently for him to step back to allow the people to pass who must have been waiting for their car. As the tinted window began to slide down, she noticed the familiar fade haircut right away.

Before she could utter a word, she saw the shiny, black barrel of the gun as it fired. She felt an intense burning in her arm as Quinton pushed her to the ground. He dragged her behind a cement wall bearing the name of the hotel in neon blue letters. The shots rang out loudly; she felt as if she was somehow lost in time. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. She saw blood everywhere and realized she’d been shot. She could feel herself losing consciousness. She could not believe that Zahrice had shot her. As she gave into the sleep that was overtaking her, she faintly heard the sounds of people screaming and trampling. The gunshots seemed to be getting louder and closer.

***

Jamika looked into the intense, bright, white light. She’d heard stories of people seeing this light when they die. The light seemed to be getting brighter and brighter. She thought of Felise, Rasheeda, Big Momma, her cousins, Nalisha, and even Zahrice, who had taken her life.

She heard a faraway voice saying, “She’s coming to.” She blinked and the bright light was blocked by her mother’s face leaning over her.

“Jamika, can you hear me?” Felise was asking.

“Y-yes,” whispered Jamika, through a sleepy, cracked voice that did not sound like her own.

“You gave us quite a scare, young lady,” said a man in white. “I am Doctor Holland,” continued the man. “You were grazed by the bullet. You did lose a vast amount of blood, but we’ve patched you up and you’ll be able to go home in a few days. I’ve left instructions with your mother on how to care for the wound.”

Jamika lay there in silence. She felt relieved that she was not dead. She’d get to see all of the people she cared for again. Quinton had saved her life when he’d pushed her down. She needed to thank him. “Where’s Quinton?” she asked. She realized that he was probably in the waiting room, waiting for his turn to come in. He wouldn’t just leave her there. He was quite the gentleman when it came to serious issues.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the eerie silence that had taken over the room. Felise’s eyes had become glassy. Jamika decided to repeat herself. “Where’s Quinton, Ma?” Felise looked resentful, but spoke anyway. “I’m sorry, Mika. Quinton didn’t make it.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Jamika started. “He had to get the limo back. I’ll just give him a call at home and—”

Felise abruptly interjected, she knew that Jamika would have to face this. “No Mika, Quinton is dead.”

“Dead, b-but…no…b-but…how?” Jamika asked, close to hysteria.

A policeman standing in the corner that she hadn’t noticed, began to speak. “Witnesses stated that whoever shot you two came over behind a short, cement sign wall. He saw that you were passed out, and unloaded the gun into one Quinton James. I’ll need a full statement of the events that took place tonight from you.”

“No…oh God…no!” shouted Jamika. A flood of tears blurred her vision, and her body shook violently against the seemingly freezing cold hospital sheets.

Felise looked over at the officer. If looks could kill, the officer would have been on his way to the morgue in a body bag next to Quinton’s. “Not now, Officer. My little girl has just been shot and one of her closest friends, killed. We have your card; we will call you.” Felise stated sternly. “Please leave me and my daughter alone now.”

The officer looked embarrassed and quickly followed the doctor out of the room. Felise wrapped her arms around Jamika. They hugged and cried until Jamika was lulled back to sleep.

Chapter Nine

Jamika and Shaquita walked through the huge Sawgrass Mills Outlet Mall. Jamika was turning seventeen, and everyone had forgotten her birthday, with the exception of her cousin, Shaquita. Shaquita had talked her into buying a nice outfit, and going out to a movie with her.

Jamika spotted a hot pink blouse with the shoulders cut out, in the 5-7-9 Outlet Store. This store was for females that could fit into those sizes, but Jamika could count on occasionally finding a twelve, or a ten with stretch material. She found a black mini skirt that was just that.

Shaquita could tell that Jamika was in a foul mood, and was trying her best to cheer her up. “Girl, you know Marquis asked about you. You know he and Reva don’t go out no more.”

“I don’t care about Marquis. He can go jump off a roof for all I care.”

“Meek, every time I bring up a guy’s name, you get all defensive. Are you turning gay on me or something?” Shaquita asked with a chuckle.

“Never that. I just don’t want a boyfriend. I am trying to finish school and go to college. I want to be a singer, you know that already, Kita.”

“Yeah, I know. But, you are young, Meek. You gotta live a little, girl.”

“Shoot, I live a lot. I wake up breathing every day,” Jamika said sarcastically.

“You know what I’m saying,” Shaquita said, rolling her eyes. “Look at that cutie over there checking you out.”

Jamika looked towards a handsome, young man who was sitting alone. He was dark as she was. He had a low haircut, sensitive eyes, and about ten shopping bags were crowded around his feet. “See, that’s what you need, a cutie with flow. Look at those damn bags. I bet he’s driving a—” Shaquita was saying.

“Look Kita, those are the shoes I need right there to go with this outfit,” Jamika said, cutting Shaquita off, leaning towards the window of the Wild Pair shoe store.

“Girl, you got issues. I’m going to go over there and talk to cutie.”

As Shaquita walked away, Jamika thought of her withdrawal towards guys. Zahrice has never been caught. Although two long years had passed since Quinton’s death, she still carried around their homecoming photo and visited his grave faithfully.

She had become engrossed in her schoolwork, and had passed ninth and tenth grades with honors. She was still in performing arts, and her vocal ability had become even more enchanting.

It seemed as if guys were after her everywhere she went, but she didn’t find anyone that was interesting enough. “Those are bad!” Shaquita exclaimed, walking into the store. Jamika looked down at the hot pink suede platform sandals she was holding. “Yeah, I know,” Jamika said, walking over to the register to purchase the shoes.

“I got cutie’s number. He might meet up with us later,” Shaquita announced proudly.

“Whatever, Kita.”

***

Jamika and Shaquita were at Millie’s house and had just finished getting dressed in their new outfits.

“Girl, you look good.”

“Naw, you look damn good!” They both laughed.

“We both look good!” they said in unison, giving each other a high five.

Shaquita said, “Let me borrow your mood lipstick.”

“Girl, it’s at my house. Use this color, it will fit you.”

“No, I want the mood. Let’s go to your house.”

“Now, you know, Monie is not going to take us all the way to my house and then to the movies.”

“I’ll take y’all,” Monie said, overhearing as she walked into the room, “but y’all have to come now.”

Monie was now nineteen and drove her boyfriend, Jesse’s, car often. She was the chubbiest one of them all. She dressed nice and her personality drew people to her. She also already knew how to cook like someone’s grandmother, from being the main cook at Millie’s for her younger sisters.

They walked out to Jesse’s 1979 Cutlass Supreme. “You gotta slam that door harder than that,” Monie was saying to Shaquita as they got in the car.

“Man this car is old and raggedy. Your man needs a new car, or you need a new man,” Shaquita said. She and Jamika burst out into laughter. Monie turned the ignition and backed out of the driveway.

“See, that’s your problem,” Monie started, “you are looking for a man driving luxury; most of them are the no good dogs. My man’s car is raggedy, but he’s a good man. He keeps these pockets intact, and his sex is all that.”

“We didn’t ask you all that,” joked Jamika.

“I’m telling you,” agreed Shaquita.

“Well, I’m just telling y’all, start to know and like a man for what he is, not for what he has.”

“Oh, here we go. Monie’s rules of love,” said Shaquita.

“All right then. I will change the subject. Did y’all know Uncle Hubert sent letters from prison for both of y’all?”

“I know you didn’t just go there,” Shaquita said in disbelief.

“I’m telling you, Monie. You can change the subject to another one,” Jamika said, backing Shaquita.

“You finish rolling that?” Monie asked.

“Rolling what?” asked Jamika.

“Just chill out, we’ll be at your house in a minute.”

Jamika peered over the seat to see that Shaquita was rolling a marijuana cigarette. “Hold up, when y’all start doing that?” Jamika said inquisitively.

“Girl, you acting like its crack or somethin’. Weed don’t do nuthin but make you feel mellow,” Shaquita said, defending her new habit.

“Yeah, everybody smokes a lil’ weed. Light it up, Kita,” Monie jumped in.

Jamika was disappointed in her cousins. “Man, y’all sound like a weed commercial. Have y’all lost y’all damn minds? Put that shit out, my momma going to smell that, it stank.”

“Yeah, that good Mary Jane kind of stank. Girl this shit have you floatin’, no worries. You need to try some,” Shaquita offered.

“No, that ain’t me,” replied Jamika.

“No, that ain’t me,” mocked Shaquita.

“Don’t worry. We will put it out before we get to your house. I got perfume for the odor and Visine for the red eyes,” interrupted Monie.

“Whatever, do y’all thang, but hurry up. I hate the smell of that shit.”

Monie and Shaquita burst out laughing in unison. Jamika didn’t understand what was so funny. Her cousins were using drugs. They were buzzed and laughed all the way to Felise’s house about the silliest little things.

When they reached Felise’s house, there were cars everywhere. Jamika immediately became alarmed. “What the hell is going on here? Something must have happened to my momma.” Jamika climbed swiftly from the car. “Hold up, Meek,” Monie said, spraying perfume on the three of them as they rushed toward the front door.

Jamika pushed on the door and it opened; it was unlocked. This was odd, and the house was dark. She wondered what was going on. Jamika’s heart was beating a mile a minute. Something bad always seemed to be waiting for her. Now, it had struck again, on her birthday.

“Surprise!” yelled a room filled with people as lights were flicked on. Felise had fixed the house up with all types of party decorations. The table was filled with chicken wings, ribs, potato salad, baked beans, potato chips, dip, fresh vegetables, fruit and juices.

The DJ was standing behind the turntables, with crates filled with albums and the lights were dimmed. Felise had rented a disco ball to give it a real, party-like atmosphere.

Jamika made her way through the crowd to see who had turned out to celebrate her birthday. She saw her cousin Peaches, Nalisha, the guy Shaquita met earlier at the mall and a lot of people from school and the neighborhood. Most of the other people she didn’t know, but some looked familiar. Some people had just heard the loud music and followed it there. She glanced over at Monie and Shaquita, who had known about this the entire time. They were still smiling and buzzing.

Guy after guy took their time dancing with the birthday girl. Jamika knew she looked good in her black mini and suede platforms. As much as she wanted to keep on dancing, her bladder had become too full.

He stood there against the wall. He had been checking her out from the time she had entered. She was finer than he remembered. Her legs reminded him of milk chocolate. The way that her mini-skirt was sculpted around her thighs and ass had him imagining that she tasted like milk chocolate too. He watched as she danced with seemingly every guy there. She looked so happy, confident, and sexy. He wanted to approach her, but didn’t quite know how. Now, she was walking towards him.

She walked right past him to the restroom. He felt a knot well up in his stomach as she passed. Was he trippin’? His stomach didn’t even do flips like that for his girlfriend. Jamika looked damn good. She still wasn’t the model type, and he still didn’t understand his fascination with her. He at least wanted to be her friend again.

He saw her coming back from the restroom. She looked like she’d freshened up her lipstick. He felt like he could taste her lips just by looking at them. As she began to pass, he jumped in front of her to block her way. She placed her hand on his chest, and tried to move around him without looking up.

“Excuse me,” she repeated.

“What’s been up, Meek?” he quickly said. He could see her eyes squint and her head tilt as she tried to figure out who he was. If he remembered correctly, only her close friends and family called her Meek. He knew that would slow her down. He couldn’t believe that she didn’t recognize him. It hadn’t been that long.

Finally, her hazel eyes widened with a knowing look. A genuine smile crossed her lips, as her hand went to her hip. She finally spoke, “Mark Rosier?”

“That’s what my old girl named me,” replied Mark.

Jamika could not believe that Mark was standing there. Over the last two and a half years, he had become nothing more than a memory. She never thought that she’d ever see him again. Friends never seemed to last in her life. Friends like Little Tray, friends like Quinton.

Mark had grown to be more handsome than she remembered. He was about six feet tall. He still had those almond eyes, and wavy hair. His features had grown more distinct. His forearms looked muscular and strong, protruding from beneath the sleeves of his shirt.

Jamika realized she was staring and struggled to find something to talk about. “So, how did you know that I was having a party?” she asked.

“The fliers were all over B.A.,” he replied.

“The fliers were all over Boyd Anderson High, really?”

“Yes. You know your mom don’t play. I don’t know how they kept it a secret from you. Look, there’s Antwon Jones over there…Solita Robinson…Lorraine Pearson… and—”

“Okay,” Jamika broke in, “I get the picture. I wasn’t down with any of them like that. I guess that’s why I didn’t recognize them.”

Mark started to chuckle and replied, “Shit, you barely recognized me.”

Jamika felt she needed to defend herself. “Well, it has been a few years. You look different; you are so tall. We used to be the same height, and your voice all deep and manly now.”

Mark was trying to hide the fact that he was blushing. “Well, well, well. What can I say?” Mark said, rubbing his chin imitating J.J. from the Good Times television sitcom. “The same Mark, I see.”

“I’ll always be.”

The beginning of Shirley Murdock’s song “Stay” could be heard cranking up. People were coupled up heading for the dance floor, and others that did not have dancing partners, were finding seats or going for good. “Would you like to dance?” Mark asked, Jamika.

“Sure.”

They went to the dance floor and started to dance slowly together as the song rolled on. Don’t wanna be a selfish girl. But tonight you are my world. I will never make it through without you. Jamika closed her eyes and reveled in how secure she felt against Mark. She hadn’t felt this safe with anyone since Quinton’s death.

The music was shut off suddenly. Jamika lifted her head to see Felise standing near the DJ’s stand with the microphone, looking like she’d had too many of whatever kind of alcoholic beverage she was drinking that night.

“I just wanna say-ee,” she slurred. “Happy Birthday to my babay, she turned seventeen today-ee. Damn! I’m getting older than a motherfucker. Shit!” Someone could be heard shouting something from the crowd. “Listen here, this is my house. I can get drunk as I want to, whoever don’t like it can haul ass. You dig? I thought so, shit. This is my shit!”

People were giggling. Most of Jamika’s friends always thought Felise to be fun and always told her that they’d wished their mothers were as down to earth. “Anyway, that Shirley Murdock just reminded me of something. Are y’all ready for some live entertainment?” asked Felise.

“Yeah, uh-huh, and come on with it,” escaped amongst the crowd.

“Come on up here, Meek. Blow something for us babay.”

Jamika gave Felise an “I do not believe you” look and headed toward the DJ’s stand. She really did not want to sing at that time, but part of being a performer would be singing when she didn’t feel like it. She decided to look at this as additional practice. As she reached for the microphone, Felise grabbed it back and started to talk again.

“One more thi-ing god-dammit!” Felise’s language always got foul when she was tipsy. “I know my baby cute and she can sang like a motherfucker. There’s a lot of little niggaz in here, and some of y’all are as fucked up as I am. I’m letting you know right now; don’t try no crazy shit. Believe me, I ain’t too fucked up to put a cap in ya ass!”