Keysha's Drama (3 page)

W
hen I woke up the next morning, my mother hadn't come home from her night at the club.
I swear, sometimes I fear that the police are going to knock on the door and tell me she has been killed or something
, I thought to myself. I knew a long time ago that to a certain degree I'd have to take care of myself early on in life, but at times I really just wanted to be a kid with a normal life. I tossed aside my blanket, placed my feet on the cold floor and then stood up and took a long stretch to begin my day. I went inside the bathroom, took a shower, got dressed and gathered up my school paperwork before heading out the door. When I exited the building, I ran into Toya, who was sitting on the stoop shuffling a deck of cards.

“Where are you headed to?” she asked, glancing at me. Her face still looked pretty bad. Overnight a bruise had formed on her cheek.

“I'm going to register for school. Aren't you coming?” I knew that she wasn't but I thought I'd ask anyway.

“No, I don't have anyone to watch Junior. My grandmother is tripping. She told me to take him with me to registration.”

“Why not? I mean, today is only the first day of registration,” I reminded her.

“Girl, I have bigger things to deal with than registration and school. I'm trying to figure out when my man had time to have a baby with another girl. Plus my face and hair are jacked-up right now.” Toya was quiet for a moment and I didn't say anything. “I mean, she's not even good-looking, Keysha. Her hair isn't as long as mine, her skin looks bad and she has a big gap between her upper front teeth. She pulled out my hair, Keysha. I swear, when I see that girl again, I'm going to cut her with this.” Toya reached into her front pants pocket and pulled out a barber's straight razor. “Once I cut her in the face, I'll bet she'll think twice before messing with me.”

I wanted to ask the obvious question, which was, “Why isn't she mad with her man for cheating on her?”, but Toya didn't think like that. It was never her man's fault. It was always the other woman's fault.

“You'll have to tell me all of the details when I come back,” I said, not wanting to listen to her issue at that moment.

“Why are you rushing off? You don't have time for me now? I listened to you yesterday when you talked about breaking up with Ronnie,” Toya said, raising her voice at me. I felt guilty for a brief moment and was about to give her a little of my time, but then I glanced up the street and noticed my mother approaching with some guy. He appeared to be some stray man she'd picked up at the club to keep her company.

“Toya, I've got to go. I'll talk to you about this later.” I wanted to leave before my mother made me greet her new friend.

“What the hell, Keysha? I thought you were my girl. I thought you cared about what I'm going through.”

“I do, Toya, but I've got to get to school. Do you have your enrollment forms? If not I could pick them up for you.”

“I told you, I've got better things to do. Why do you care about school, anyway? You're not an A student. You know that you don't want to be there listening to some boring-ass teacher. You'll have more fun sitting here with me all day playing cards. After that we could watch that television program where people get on it and start fighting. I love that show.”

“I'm going to have to pass on that today. I don't want to go to late registration. Besides, this is a chance for me to get out of the house. My mother is coming with some weird-looking man.” I nodded my head in the direction of my mother. “I'll catch you later,” I said and moved past her. I crossed the street to walk down the other side so that I could just wave to my mother and keep on going, but she made me stop and cross back over to where she was. I took in a deep breath and prepared to deal with the nonsense that would fly out of her mouth.

“What's up, girl?” She greeted me as if she were my best friend instead of my mother. I didn't respond right away because I was scrutinizing her outfit. To put it mildly, my mother's outfit was a hot mess. She was too old for the style of clothes she was fond of wearing. She had her oversize behind stuffed into a pair of low hip-riding Phat Farm jeans, which were in desperate need of a belt. She had on a white belly top that exposed her pregnant chocolate tummy, her stretch marks and an old tattoo of a red rose. I'd tried on occasion to help her find clothes that were more appropriate, but she didn't like the fashions I'd picked out.

“I know, girl, I'm fine as wine,” she said, mistaking my horrified expression for approval of the way she looked. “I couldn't take two steps without a car honking a horn at me. Isn't that right, Simon?” She looked to her friend to confirm the truthfulness of her statement.

“You know all the men want you, baby,” said Simon. The way he was looking at me made me feel as if a thousand bugs were crawling on my skin—honestly, dude made my skin crawl as if I were watching an episode of
Fear Factor
.

“What's your daughter's name again?” asked Simon as he continued to rape me with his eyes.

“Keysha, fool. You know that,” my mother answered him.

“Give me a break. I haven't seen this girl since she was a baby,” said Simon. He looked over at my mother, and that's when I noticed a hideous scar that ran from his right earlobe, across his cheek and down to the corner of his lip. The site of the scar caught me off guard, and now I was the one doing all the eye raping.

“You don't remember Simon, do you, Keysha?” asked my mom.

“With a face like that how could I ever forget him,” I said.

“I got this scar at one of the parties your Grandmother Rubylee used to host years ago. I was helping her collect a debt,” Simon said as he continued to stare at me as if he were studying for an exam.

“Simon is an old friend of the family from around the old neighborhood,” said my mother. “We used to hang out and party together all the time. We had some good times together, didn't we, Simon?”

“Yeah, we did,” he said, smiling at the memory.

“So you two used to date or something?” I asked.

“Something like that.” Simon's answer was very vague.

“We ran into each other at the club last night. We got to talking about the old days and the good times. Simon is starting up a business,” said my mother. “We're going to go in the house and talk about it.”

“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes because I didn't care about what her and Simon were really up to. One thing was for sure, it wasn't about starting a legitimate business.

“Justine, she looks too damn familiar. Who's her father?” Simon smiled at me and his teeth were as yellow as a lemon. I cringed at the sight of them.

“Why do you want to go and ask me a question like that in front of her?” Justine got irritated with Simon.

“You know why I'm asking,” said Simon. “She looks just like my cousin—”

“Look—” I cut him off because there was no way I was related to anyone who looked like him.

“Wait a minute, Keysha, let me look at you one more time,” Simon said, studying the details of my every feature.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” I said and rushed away from them.

“Keysha, wait a minute.” My mother chased after me.

“What? I'm heading off to register for school,” I said.

“Hold on a minute.” She grabbed my arm and forced me to stop.

“Why are you just now getting home?” I asked with an authoritative tone. “And why did you bring him with you, and why is he acting like he knows something about me?”

“Who the hell are you snapping at? I don't have to answer to you,” she quickly reminded me. At that moment I noticed the unpleasant smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke that was pasted to her skin and clothing. The odor was choking the air between us.

“You need to start acting your own age and not like some teenager who can't control their hormones.” I don't know why I said that; it just flew out of my mouth.

“Excuse you!” she barked at me. “Don't mess around and get a beat down in the middle of the street,” she threatened me. I didn't say any more because my mother was crazy enough to knuckle-up her fists and fight me right where I stood.

“Why does he think I look like someone he knows? Why does he even think he knows who my father is?”

“Simon doesn't know what he's talking about, baby. He's just talking out of the side of his head. Don't pay him any attention.”

“I'll be back later,” I said, not wanting to speak with her anymore.

“Hold on a minute.” She wiggled her fingers into her front pocket and pulled out a crumpled-up five-dollar bill. “Get yourself something to eat while you're out. I probably won't be home when you get back.”

“Why?” I questioned her again. I'd gotten so tired of her being gone all of the time.

“Because I've got things to do. If things work out, I may be able to make a little money today.”

“Doing what?” I asked suspiciously.

“I don't know. That's why Simon has come over. He's going to tell me about his business.”

I didn't like her answer, and before I could stop my words I found myself interrogating her once again.

“Is it a legitimate job?” She didn't answer me. “Why don't you look for a real job, Mom?” I asked in a softer tone of voice.

“Because I don't have to. That's why I have you, so I can collect a check.” She quickly turned icy on me. Her comment made me feel as if I had no emotional value to her. I was just a person she could get a welfare check for.

“You know that the back rent is due, and if you don't pay we could be put out again. I don't think the landlord is playing around.”

“I'm not worried about it,” she said and didn't offer up any type of comfort to assure me that everything would be okay. I wanted to scream and yell at her. I wanted to explode, but instead I just built a wall around my emotions for her. At the moment I refused to allow her to cripple me emotionally. If she didn't care, then I didn't, either.

“Have fun with your friend Simon,” I said as I walked off.

“I will!” she yelled back at me as I rushed off down the street.

I thought for sure the lines for registration would be long, but they weren't. I was able to go through the process fairly quickly. One of the school administrative staff printed out my class schedule and handed it to me. I glanced down at it and noticed that I had math first thing in the morning.

“Nine o'clock in the morning is too early to have a math class. Can you switch it for me?” I asked the lady who'd printed out my schedule. She looked at me for a long moment, as if I'd lost my mind.

“I guess that means no,” I said sarcastically.

She frowned and yelled out, “Next.”

My biggest concern now was school supplies or my lack of them. I hated being unprepared but I really didn't have a choice in the matter. I'd have to recycle the folders that I had from last year and latch on to someone when I needed additional supplies. It was an embarrassment I'd have to contend with.

By twelve-thirty that afternoon I'd arrived back home. As I came up the block I saw Toya still hanging around the front of the building toying around with her deck of cards.

“What's up, girl?” I asked as I took a seat on a kitchen chair that Toya had placed on the stoop.

“How are you just going to walk up and take my seat?” Toya tried to sound angry, but I didn't take her seriously.

“My feet hurt from walking in these cheap shoes,” I explained as I allowed my fingertips to massage my scalp, which had suddenly started itching. It was a telltale sign that I needed to wash my hair and oil my scalp.

“Do you want me to braid your hair for you?” Toya asked.

“No, I need to wash it before I do anything with it.”

“So, how did registration go?” Toya asked.

“It went okay. It went quickly. I have to figure out how I'm going to get my school supplies because my mother—well, you know that I can't depend on her.” A mischievous expression formed on Toya's face at that moment.

“You're right, Keysha. We can't depend on our parents because they aren't cut out for the job. What we need to do is look out for each other. Don't you agree?”

“Yeah, I can agree with that,” I said as I scratched the dry skin on my left leg.

“Listen, I've been thinking of a way that we can help each other.” Toya stopped shuffling her cards and focused all of her attention on me.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Toya?” I asked, sensing she was calculating something in her mind.

“I've got a plan. Junior needs some new clothes and so do you and I. My baby would look so cute in some baby Nikes and some new gear from Sean John. I want some stuff from Phat Farm, and I know that you do, as well. So here is what I say we should do. Let's go down to the mall and get what we need.”