It's Raining Benjamins (8 page)

Chapter
7

T
he next day at six o'clock, the five of us meet at Times Square Tabernacle Church on West Forty-third Street, to go see Derek Ulysses Hambone in the “Mad Millennium” Fashion Show.

Madrina
gave us the money to pay for our tickets because she feels so bad about our “boo-boo” chokers venture. Once again, we're wearing our Cheetah Girls chokers—but, as Bubbles jokes, “Let's pray we don't drop alphabets in the good house of the Lord!”

We're all in a good mood, because of the great news about Def Duck Records. Even me. I'm still kinda nervous about talking to Bubbles about writing a new song with her. But I made a promise to myself last night, when I was lying awake in bed, that I am not going to do
el pollito
, and chicken out. I swear I'm going to pounce at the right moment!

I haven't even spoken to Dorinda about this, since she just automatically sides with Bubbles when it comes to things about the group. That's because she thinks Bubbles knows everything—which she doesn't!

Tonight, the twins especially are in seventh heaven about the news. But for a moment at least, when I first see them, my new hairdo distracts them.

“Hey, Miss Chanel,” Aqua exclaims. “Your hair looks
real
nice! Can I touch it? Ain't her hair pretty, Angie?”

“It sure is. It's so
looong
, Chanel!” Angie says, surprised.

“What did you think, I was wearing a weave under my braids or something?” I tease the twins.

“No, but I guess we didn't realize how
looooong
your hair really is.”

As soon as she's through checking out my new 'do, Aqua tries to milk Bubbles for every
poco
detail about the phone call between Def Duck Records and
Madrina
. “What did they say about us?”

“They said we wuz off the hook, Snook!” Bubbles says. (She loves being the one to tell us everything.) Aqua waits for more details, but Bubbles just looks at her and says, “That's it, really. They thought the showcase went really well, and now they want to put us in the studio to cut a demo—with a producer named Mouse Almighty. They said we should record three to five songs. Then they'll decide if they want to give us a record deal.”

“Who is this Mouse Almighty?” Angie asks.

“They told Mom he's worked with a few other girl groups, so that's why they picked him to work with us. Let's see … he's worked with Karma's Children, the Lollipops, the Honey Dews, and In the Dark.”

“In the Dark—who's that?” Dorinda wonders.

“You know—that little girl with the rhinestone-studded black eye patch, and the three other girls who prance around on stage with those monkey-head walking sticks, like they're all that,” Aqua blurts out. “They went on tour once with Jiggie Jim and the Moonpies. Um, what's that song—oh … oh … ‘Struck with Your Love and Now I See!' That's it!”

“Oh, them. I don't like them,” Angie says, making a face.

“Well, the other groups he's worked with are dope, right?” Dorinda points out. “
And
he's got his own recording studio. That means he's got mad skills.”

“Are we going to be able to record
your
songs?” I ask Bubbles.

“I don't know, Chuchie,” Bubbles says, kinda humble. Then she breaks out a fresh wad of bubble gum. “He's the producer, so I guess we've gotta do whatever he tells us—'cuz Def Duck Records is paying for everything.”

“Oh,” I say. I can't get the nerve up to say anything about writing with Bubbles. Besides, I guess this isn't the right time. I don't want to talk about it in front of everybody.

“I'm telling y'all, this is the one,” Aqua says, looking all satisfied with herself. “This is what we've been waiting for! I'm telling you, I know—because me and Angie have prayed enough about it!”

We go inside the church. Well, it's not exactly a church. It's more of an auditorium where they hold services. But I guess the twins are really happy just to be in
any
kind of church. They
love
going to church, and singing in the junior choir and everything.

Lady ushers with white gloves are standing at the entrance of the auditorium. “Good evening, sisters.” Aqua and Angie greet them, all bubbly with excitement.

The ushers take our tickets and tear them in half. “Just go on inside and take a seat wherever you like, girls,” they tell us.

“I hope the money is going to a good cause,” heckles Bubbles as we go inside.

Dorinda has been reading the program intensively. Now she blurts out, “It says here, all the proceeds are going to the New York City Chapter for Homeless Women.”

“That's good. That's real good,” Aqua says, nodding her head in approval. (Their dad was the one who forked over the twenty dollars to pay for their two tickets, and I guess they feel better knowing it's all for a good cause.) Still, some things are more important than others, especially to the twins. “I hope they have good food here,” Angie says, looking around.

“Amen to that,” Aqua agrees. The only thing the twins love more than going to church or singing is
eating
.

“They do have food—
afterward
,” Bubbles tells them, rolling her eyes at the twins' incredible appetite.

A look of relief washes over Angie's face. “I've never been to a church service in an auditorium. What kind of church is this?” she asks us.

“I believe it's a ‘nondenominational' church, but you know how they roll in New York. We can't have big, fancy churches like they have down South,” Bubbles says, shrugging her shoulders.

(I'll bet church services in Houston must be in big, beautiful churches,
está bien
?)

“Look—it says here that the clothes are designed by students at Fashion Institute of Technology,” Dorinda says, pointing to the program again.

“Oh, I get it. ‘Up-and-coming' designers,” Aqua volunteers.

“Yeah, let's just hope they have somewhere to ‘
go
' if their clothes are wack,” Dorinda says with a chuckle.

“I wonder if Derek is here yet?” Bubbles asks, looking around for him.

Well, looky, cooky. Now that Derek is acting so mean to Bubbles, I think she kinda
likes
him. I'm not kidding. I know “goo-goo” eyes when I see them!

We take our seats, and wait for the fashion show to begin. Bubbles whips out her Kitty Kat notebook, and gets busy doing more work on her latest song, “Woof, There It Is!”

I try not to look, and luckily, the fashion show commentator comes on the stage. It's none other than Miss Clucky, the famous gossip columnist from television!

“Good evening, everyone. I'm Miss Clucky, and feeling lucky to be here with all of you! We're here to raise some money, and have some
fun
!”

Looking around at the audience, she lets out a big sigh. “Mmmm. Mmmm. I see we have some
fine
-looking young things in the audience tonight! You look
gooood
, y'all,” she moans. Then she starts prancing back and forth in her red sequined gown, twirling to show off the draping cape thing attached to it. “
I
look
gooood
, too—don't I, y'all? Don't be shy, you can tell me!”

“
Yeah!
” the audience shouts in unison. Personally, I think she looks like one of the ladies on the Goya float in the Dominican Day Parade—like she's full of beans!

“Hallelujah!” somebody shouts out.

Suddenly,
la luz grande
—the big lightbulb—goes off in my head. That's it!
Hallelujah!
I can put it in the chorus of my first song—“It's raining Benjamins …
Hallelujah
! It's raining Benjamins …
Hallelujah!
”

I get so excited that I almost reach over to tell Bubbles, but Miss Clucky is still talking, so I keep my
boca
shut.

“Well, let's give some praise to fashion tonight, y'all!” Miss Clucky says, then puts on some funny-looking spectacles and begins to read from the index cards she has in her hands.

The show begins, and the models start coming out onstage to the beat of the music. Miss Clucky describes all the clothes they're wearing—some of which are definitely wack, but a few of which are definitely
la dopa
!

When Derek comes out on the stage modeling clothes, I poke Bubbles. “He looks gooood!” I whisper, imitating Miss Clucky.

We're sitting too far in the back of the auditorium for Derek to see us, but we wave anyway, giggling our heads off. Derek is wearing this zebra-looking, long, flowing caftan, that kinda looks like the clothes
Madrina
designs for Toto in New York.

“That woulda looked more dope with one of our chokers,” Bubbles whispers to me. I can see she feels bad, like we missed out on something.

After the fashion show, we head downstairs to eat the buffet dinner. Dorinda is really excited about all the clothes we saw, and she starts babbling about the outfits she's gonna design for our shows when we go on tour to promote our first album.

Bubbles stops her with a sharp comment. “If you ask me, those designers tonight could definitely have used some Cheetah Girl flava.”

Dorinda eyes the spread, and smirks. “Now, that's what I'm talking about!”

We crowd around the buffet table, and put heaps of potato salad, corn on the cob, fried chicken, and baked beans on our plates. The church ladies serving us say chirpily, “Aren't y'all the cutest girls!”

“We're the Cheetah Girls,” Dorinda says proudly.

“Mabel, look at those necklaces they got around their necks.”

“Oh, these are our Cheetah Girl chokers,” Bubbles pipes up, taking over the conversation. I'm surprised she doesn't tell them that we're selling them, so I turn to her and whisper, “Are we still selling the chokers?”

“To anybody with a ducket in a bucket!”

Right then, Derek Hambone comes over with his boy, Mackerel Johnson, and another tall, skinny guy we don't know. Now that the fashion show is over, Derek is back in his “street uniform”—a navy blue and red windbreaker with matching sweatpants.

He likes clothes from this designer, Johnny BeDown—a lot of the kids in our school wear his stuff, but
we
think it's tick-tacky because it has too many letters on it. Like Bubbles says, “Why should we wear clothes with anybody else's name on it but our own?”

“Hey, Cheetah Girls! Glad to see you in the house,” Derek says. Then he reaches over and kisses Bubbles on the cheek! I can't believe she let him do that!

“We figured out how to make the chokers,” Bubbles blurts out, fingering the one around her neck. “We've already taken orders for five more.”

“That's cool,” Derek says, kinda laughing. “It's all good in the 'hood.”

What does Bubbles mean, she's taken orders for five more chokers? She didn't tell
me
anything!
Nada. Vampira
-tooth. Mackerel winks at me. I guess I'd better be
super-simpática
too to make up for what happened. “What program are you in?” I ask Mackerel, even though it kills me. I feel my face turning
rosa
.

“Design,” he mumbles. His voice is so soft, I can hardly hear it.

“Did you like the clothes in the show?” I ask, trying to seem like I'm interested in talking with him. I guess it's okay—as long as he doesn't start biting my neck!

“They
awwriight
, but I'm trying to flow with the street vibe,” he continues—like he's flossing about his design skills.

“Whose clothes do you like?”

“I dig Trace Gear, you know what I'm saying?”

“Oh, I like that, too,” I say, telling a
poco
fiberoni. I hate their clothes, because they're too baggy—but I'm not going to tell
him
that,
está bien
?

“You know what? I'll buy another choker from you, if you're still selling them,” Mackerel says. Then he
winks
at me.
Cuatro yuks
—he's
flirting
with me!

If he would just keep his “trap” shut, so I wouldn't have to look at his teeth, maybe I wouldn't mind. Those teeth of his give me “the spookies.” He ought to get them fixed, you know?

“Okay,
está bien
,” I say to Mackerel. Then I pull on Bubbles's sleeve and ask her what to do.

“That's cool—we've got enough chokers. We can handle it,” Bubbles says confidently “That is, if it's okay with you, Derek?”

Bubbles is trying to be sooo charming to Derek—and he is eating it up like, well, a Red Snapper!

“It's cool with Mr. DUH—you know what I'm saying?”

Bubbles blushes deep purple. See, Derek has the initials of his first, middle, and last name shaved on the back of his head. That's how they roll in Detroit, where he comes from—but we think that look is so played. Besides, with initials like his, he shouldn't be broadcasting them,
está bien
? That's why we always make fun of him. But
la gente
at school obviously told him about
that
nickname, too.

“You know … I'm sorry about what happened,” Bubbles says, and she seems like she means it for a change!

“Yeah, I know, Cheetah Girl,” Derek says, grinning and showing off his gold front tooth. “Does that mean you'll go out with me, yo?”

I want to scream.
Ay, caramba!
Bubbles,
please
say
no!

“All right. We can move, we can groove,” Bubbles responds.

I think I'm going to faint! Dorinda's mouth is hanging open, too. I look over my shoulder, and see that the twins are busy talking to Derek's friend, whom we don't know.