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Authors: L. Divine

Lady J (5 page)

BOOK: Lady J
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“Why can't you just stay at your grandmother's tonight?” she says, oblivious to my reality. If it were that simple, then there'd be no issue.
“Then how am I going to get to work in the morning?” Must be nice to not have to work on the weekends. I'm going to have try that one out sometime.
“Damn, girl, I don't know,” Mickey says, sounding defensive. “I'm trying to help you out.”
“I've got it covered,” I say, tired of her lame attempt at assistance. It's time to get back to the topic at hand. “So what's with all the static between you and Nigel?”
“He's just jealous, that's all. Nigel's not able to give me what my man does and he knows that,” she says, stepping into the noisy hallway as the bell rings above our heads.
I am and I'm not looking forward to seeing Jeremy next period. I'm still attracted to him because, well, he's as fine as always. But he really rubbed me the wrong way on Monday and I can't shake being pissed at him. I've been giving him the cold shoulder all week and it's not going to warm up anytime soon. “And what's so great about what your man gives you? If you ask me, you could do better without all of his disrespect,” I say as she gives me a look of disbelief and then rolls her eyes at me as we approach my locker. Mickey can roll her eyes from here to Compton, but I'm right and she knows it.
“Well, no one asked you. And I thought you were on my side anyway,” she says, stopping traffic as she applies her MAC lip gloss in my locker mirror. She's more full of herself than Nellie, and that's not cool with me. As I'm about to respond to her highness's sassy comment, my cell vibrates, signaling a call from Rah.
“Peace Raheem. Shouldn't you be in class?” I say, teasing him. Westingle's a little more lenient when it comes to cell phone usage on campus, unlike South Bay. Technically we're not even supposed to have them on during school hours. But most students keep theirs on vibrate during the day. I usually turn mine off so I can save on battery usage. But ever since Rah and I started talking again, I've been keeping it on.
“Yes ma'am,” he says. I must admit it's a real treat to hear his voice in the morning. “Anyway, I just wanted to holla at you since you was on my mind and all. Oh, and I'm coming up there after school, so don't conveniently disappear,” Rah says, making me smile with his authoritative yet caring voice, unlike Mickey's man who just barks out orders like the control freak that he is.
“Cool, then you can give me a ride to my mom's.” That works out perfectly, because truth be told, I don't want to cause any more tension between Nellie, Chance, and myself. And Chance giving me a ride today would definitely have done that.
“No problem, girl. I'm a holla later on then, shawty. Peace,” Rah says in a fake southern accent.
“Holla,” I say, mimicking him.
“Y'all are starting to make me sick,” Mickey says, as we walk toward my class, which isn't too far from hers. As I approach the door to Government, Jeremy walks up to me and Mickey, who sucks her teeth in disgust.
“Well, good morning to you too,” he says to Mickey, brushing up against me as he passes me to enter the room. Damn, he smells so fresh and clean.
“You need to stay away from white boys, Jayd. They ain't no good.”
“Now ain't that some shit coming from you, with your man's superhero being Ike Turner,” I say, before entering the noisy space myself as Mrs. Peterson glares at me from her desk. “Go to class,” I say, lightly pushing my girl as she nods good-bye. I can't wait to see Rah when this day's over. He'll make me forget all about school, at least for the weekend.
 
Instead of eating lunch, Chance and I met in the drama room to practice our audition scene straight through until the end of drama class—no audience allowed. That pissed Nellie off, but she played it cool by hanging with a still-steaming Mickey and going off campus to eat. One thing she's going to have to understand is that when it comes to this audition, Chance and I are serious about our work and we both want to win. I hope she learns to trust us a little more.
“Waiting for someone?” Rah says, sneaking up behind me as I switch my books out of my locker for the last time. I didn't bother stopping after math class because I knew I wouldn't have to rush to catch the bus after school. And unfortunately, I do have homework this weekend.
“Yeah, this fine brotha who's going to take me to Fatburger for an early dinner. Have you seen him?” I say, allowing him to hug me tight from behind. We could get in a lot of trouble if we weren't more disciplined and if I didn't know better.
“Fatburger? You better be happy with the dollar menu at Wendy's,” he says, dodging my fist as I go to punch him in the arm. After a few playful hits, he concedes and gives me my way, at least for the time being. “Fine, fine. Fatburger it is.”
“Thank you for being so agreeable,” I say, slamming my locker shut and leading the way out of the near-empty hall. There's nothing like Fridays, especially after the long week I've had. My headache from this morning is still lingering, but thankfully not full force. I'll take something for it when I get to my mom's house. As I rub my temples, ready to release the stress of this place, I notice KJ and Misty talking at the opposite end of the hall. Whatever they're talking about looks pretty intense and Misty's near tears. Why do we give up our power so easily to trifling dudes?
“Jayd, are you feeling okay?” Rah says, following my gaze. He massages my neck while we head out of the front door. The bright sunshine hits my eyes, causing me momentary blindness and my headache to worsen.
“I had a run-in with Esmeralda this morning and my head's been pounding ever since,” I say, still curious about Misty and KJ, but more concerned about Esmeralda's crazy ass. Rah's the only person I can tell about my home life and I love that I don't have to explain myself to him.
“Esmeralda your neighbor? I thought she died or something,” he says, making me giggle as he opens the door to his Acura parked in front of the school.
“No, she's alive and unwell. She's probably got nine lives like her damned cats,” I say, jokingly. But I wouldn't be surprised if it was somewhat true.
“Well, I thought Mama said you aren't supposed to talk to her,” he says. Was he listening to Mama grill me earlier?
“I know that, and it wasn't intentional,” I say as he starts the car with the speakers loudly bumping OutKast. Why am I defending myself against Rah? “And, you ain't my daddy last time I checked.”
“Yeah, but you know your grandmother's serious when it comes to that woman. And from everything you've told me about Esmeralda, she can't be any good.” He's got that right. Years ago, I used to tell Rah all about my lineage while we waited for the city bus together. He's always been a good listener, sometimes too good.
“I know. I'm going to ask my mom more about Esmeralda's powers when I get to her house,” I say as we drive away from South Bay High. Though I'm ready to grub, I feel like that broad's still looking at me with her creepy blue eyes. I swear she put something on me. I just don't know what yet. But I'm going to find out. I brought my spirit notebook with me and I plan to take very good notes from my talk with my mom and compare them with the spirit book when I get home on Sunday. I'm going to figure out a way to beat Esmeralda at her own game without getting caught in the crossfire, and hopefully without Mama finding out.
5
Things Fall Apart
“You must've done something wrong/ Why you can't find where you belong?”
—BOB MARLEY
 
 
A
fter we grab a not-so-quick bite to eat, Rah drops me off at my mom's house. It's Friday, and I know he's got clients to hustle for, not to mention a girl to tend to. He also has to pick Kamal up from the YMCA and take him to their grandmother's house in Compton to spend the night. We'll have to wait until tomorrow night's session to see each other, unless he visits me at work tomorrow, which would be a welcomed surprise.
“Hey Mom, I'm here,” I yell as I close the front door behind me. The last thing I want is for her to think it's an intruder and grab the little twenty-two she keeps handy. A girl can never be too safe, especially when she lives alone.
“Hey baby. I'm glad you got a ride. How was school?” she yells back through the closed bathroom door. The floral scent of my mom's Caress shower gel fills the small apartment, overwhelming even the fragrant incense burning in the corner. My mom's got Anita Baker playing in the background as she prepares for another date with Karl, I assume.
“School was school,” I say, plopping onto the small sofa and putting my bags down on the floor beside me. After the turkey burger with cheese, fries and strawberry milkshake I just threw back, I'm too full to move much further. “How was tennis?”
“It was worth getting off work early for. We had a ball—no pun intended,” she says, leaving the bathroom wrapped in a towel with her shower cap on her head. “He's taking me to El Cholo's tonight for dinner. Not the one in Santa Monica, the one in LA, where they have the best margaritas.” From my mom's excitement, I'd think this was her first date ever.
“Well, bring me back some chicken nachos if you can remember after sipping on all of that tequila, por favor,” I say, teasing her. Margaritas are her and my Aunt Vivica's favorite drink.
“So, what are you up to tonight? Big plans with Rah?” she asks, rubbing her Jergen's lotion into her already smooth skin as the warm light from the setting sun creeps through her second story window, making her ebony skin shimmer. As she props her leg up on the dining room chair, I notice her legs and armpits are freshly shaved. I avoid shaving both at all costs. Luckily, I'm not that hairy.
“Why do you shave when you know the hairs are going to grow back?” This is one of many ongoing debates between my mom and myself. Out of all the things I do that get on her nerves, me not shaving is the one that drives her especially crazy.
“Because I like to be smooth, unlike you, Sasquatch. I swear, sometimes I wonder if we're related at all,” she says, leaving the bottle of lotion on the table and heading back to her room to get dressed. “Besides, Jayd, men don't like hairy women. You'll learn.”
“Well, I don't like razor bumps or ugly armpits, so if that's what it takes to keep a man, I'm cool,” I say, taking my shoes off and stretching across the cozy couch. After eating my big dinner, all I want to do is pass out.
“Jayd, you're so silly. How does this look?” she says, stepping out in a long, white wraparound linen dress and her gold Kenneth Cole heels. Of course she looks flyy and knows it. Her turquoise jewelry serves as the perfect compliment to both her outfit and her eyes.
“You look beautiful, Mom. All except for the naked armpits.” Which are clearly visible in the sleeveless outfit.
“Shut up, little one,” she says, throwing her wet towel at me. “I need you to touch up my edges and my kitchen,” she says, referring to the kinks in the back of her hair. “I sweat out my press and curl on the court.” I need to do my hair tonight too, so I might as well start heating up my oven and tools now, even though it's going to be difficult getting up from my comfortable position.
“No problem, Ms. Jackson.” I still don't understand why my mom kept her married name after she and my dad divorced. She says it was because of me. I say it's because she wanted to torture my dad by keeping his last name: it's the one thing he couldn't steal from her during their settlement, other than me, of course. But, as they both know, I don't belong to either one of them, just to Mama. And no one in the world would dare try to steal me from her.
“How's your headache?” she says. She must be reading my mind again because my head is banging.
“I need to take something for it,” I say, rubbing my head before rising to retrieve my hair bag from the hall closet and set up shop in the dining room.
“Nothing's going to take that pain away, girl. Esmeralda's got you on lock now. Your head's going to be pounding until she feels like letting go, or is forced to,” my mom casually throws out.
“I knew something was wrong,” I say, plugging the iron oven into the wall socket across from my mother, who's already seated at the table. I take my towel out of the bag and drape it around her shoulders.
“Is this towel clean?” she says, inspecting the various burns and other marks on the oversized purple cloth. “I don't want anything to get on my new dress. It still has the price tags on it just in case I need to return it to Ann Taylor.” There's no shame in my mom's game.
“Mom, you know me better than that,” I say, placing two hot combs in the oven before parting her soft, thick hair. “And what exactly did you mean about Esmeralda having me on lock?”
“Girl, looking into her eyes is like drinking a cold drink too fast; you get brain freeze. And in this case, it'll take longer than a few minutes to subside.”
“Is she more powerful than Mama?” I naively ask. If Netta were here, she'd slap me herself for that question. She is Mama's oldest and closest friend.
“Hell no,” my mom emphatically says as she rolls her jade eyes at me. “Although Mama would say that all power is relative. But trust me, anything Esmeralda throws out there, Mama can handle. But why should she have to if it's not necessary? She's got enough on her plate as it is.”
“I know she does. I feel bad about waking her up this morning, but Esmeralda really freaked me out,” I say, tilting my mom's head to the side, quickly running the warm comb through the rest of her hair now that I'm done with the back.
“Heed Mama's warnings, Jayd. Always. Learn from my mistakes, girl, I'm telling you. It's easier than going the long way around the lesson, which is to not listen and do what you want, even when it seems like the right thing to do. Mama knows things we don't and sees even more. So, let her do her job and stay out of the way by following her instructions to the letter, especially when it comes to that heffa next door.”
“Did you ever try to handle her on your own?” As I pull the hot comb through her hair, guiding it all the while with a rag in my other hand, I see the texture of her hair change before my eyes. What was once soft waves is now completely straight, with steam seeping through.
“Yes, Jayd. And that led to my demise. I'm telling you, Jayd, listen to me when it comes to Esmeralda,” she says, shaking her head from side to side like she's reliving a painful memory. I wish I could see into her thoughts sometimes. “The more distance you can put between her and yourself, the better.” Rising from her seat and checking herself in the mirror hanging on the wall, she walks over to her bookshelf and pulls out her old, dusty photo album. I haven't looked through my baby pictures in a while. From the inside back cover of the oversized brown book, she takes out a thin notebook and hands it to me.
“I've never noticed this in there before,” I say, looking at the simple notebook before taking the combs out and setting them on their cloth to cool.
“That's because you weren't supposed to. That's as far as I got with my lessons, but you're welcome to look through it if you'd like. Most of what I have written is about that bitch and how she tortured Mama through me when I was your age. I've got to get something out of the car, and Karl will be downstairs any minute. There's already too much traffic out there as it is and I don't want to be late for our reservations,” she says, grabbing a light wrap for her shoulders before heading out the door.
“Thank you for this, Mom.” After all of the stories I've heard over the years about how much my mom dislikes the spiritual side of our lineage, I thought she would have destroyed any evidence in her possession years ago. I wonder why she didn't show me this before.
“
Because you didn't need it until now
,” she telepathically relays, winking at me as she closes the door and leaves me alone with my thoughts. “Don't wait up,” she shouts as she walks down the stairs leading to outside. There are three other apartments in this corridor and I know they just heard my mom's loud voice.
Between my spirit work, schoolwork, and doing my hair, I have a full night ahead of me. I wish I didn't have to go to work in the morning, but I need all the money I can get. Before I jump in the shower, I want to read up on my mom's experiences with Esmeralda. All I've ever heard is that my mom never took her lessons seriously, until she needed them for her own use. I also knew that Esmeralda hates both my mother and Mama, but no one's ever shared the entire story with me. Hopefully my mom's spirit notebook will shed some light on the subject.
March 24, Sunday
It's my sixteenth birthday and Mama says I have to write in this damned notebook and study that big-ass book she keeps in the backhouse. Ever since she and Esmeralda had it out in church a few months ago, she's been acting more strange than usual. She swore she'd never step foot back in that “evil place” again. Daddy says Esmeralda's gone mad and taken Mama with her. I say Mama was already mad and everyone around here is just too afraid to admit it. Miss Netta's the only friend Mama's got around here and she ain't too far from crazy herself. They both get on my nerves.
I didn't know my mom didn't care for Miss Netta. No wonder she never gets her hair done at Netta's shop. I always thought it was because it was too far. But her new stylist is all the way out in Long Beach and she has a standing six
AM
appointment every other Thursday. What women will do for their hair. But this isn't why I'm looking through this book, and my oven's steaming, so I need to cut to the chase. I want to know how to stop Esmeralda, and fast.
Hmm, now this is interesting. The last entry is two years later and is accompanied by a recipe for a tea called “Things Fall Apart.” I wonder if she made it up herself or got it from the spirit book. I better read up and take notes on this entire section so I can compare the two when I get home.
June 17, Saturday
Yesterday I graduated from high school and I'm done with this house. Tomorrow I'm moving in with my man and we're getting married in Vegas next weekend, even though Mama and Daddy don't know it yet. Mama can't stand him, but he's not that bad. Besides, it'll get me out of this house a lot faster than if I did it alone. Esmeralda has gone too far this time, trying to get with my man. I know, I should blame him for going over there in the first place, but she lured him in with those damn cats and I've got something for her ass before I leave. With all the shit in this tea, her life should fall apart very quickly, and I don't intend to be here to witness it. Mama already got her good, making sure she'll never have any children of her own after what she did to that girl around the corner. I know she's going to be screwed up for life after that one.
I'm also done with this spirit work. I'm leaving all of this shit behind too. This is Mama's legacy, not mine. Once I get married, I'll change my name and start my own legacy, leaving all the craziness behind me for good. I don't care if Esmeralda and Mama go way back and she has it out for us. I can't stand that woman or her evil-ass eyes. I feel like a little part of me dies every time I look into them. Mama already put up a stone shield with rocks on the four corners of our property to keep that witch away from me, but nothing can stop her eyes and I'm sick of it all. I just want it to be all over and this tea should do the trick.
That's the last of my mom's neat cursive writing on the page. From the date, it was around this time she moved in with my dad and things really did fall apart for her after that. The spirit book warns against doing works to harm other people; they could backfire and harm you as well. But I can see why my mom ignored the warning with Esmeralda. I'll have to ask her if the tea worked. It'll have to be tomorrow because I know she won't be back before I go to bed, even though I'll be up for a while doing my hair and schoolwork. But I do need to get some sleep in order to deal with work tomorrow.
 
“Excuse me,” this uppity-looking girl says to me from her seat in the restaurant while her two equally snobbish friends snicker. “Are you going to take our order anytime soon?” Where does she think she is, Red Lobster?
“Uh, no. You have to place your order at the counter and we'll bring it to you when it comes up.” These St. Benedict chicks work my nerves more than the broads from Westingle. They all live in Baldwin Hills, View Park, and the surrounding beach areas, thinking that they're better than those of us on the south side of the city. But they're just a stone's throw away from the hood themselves.
BOOK: Lady J
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