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Authors: L. Divine

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BOOK: Lady J
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“ ‘Here's the smell of blood still; all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. O, O, O.' ” All I have to do is act like a crackhead during this scene and I've got everyone convinced I'm this crazy queen. Who knew that living in the hood would give me advantages in Shakespearean theater?
“ ‘To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate.' ” As I walk toward the door, all eyes are on me. I know I've got this part in the bag. “ ‘Come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed to bed.' ” As the monologue ends, the sound of clapping spreads around the room. The applause is contagious and even the other contestants standing outside clap.
“Well done, Jayd. Well done,” Mrs. Sinclair says as I return to my seat in the audience. I feel good about my piece, and from the looks on the judges' faces, I'm not the only one. I can't wait to tell Mama how I did.
 
When I get off the bus in Compton, I can't help but think about Misty again. Her mom usually takes her home after school if she doesn't get a ride from one of her friends first. But she wasn't at school today, and for some reason I'm worried about her. Misty's house is close by, on the way to Netta's shop from here. I could walk down her block instead of the usual route, just to see if everything looks okay.
When I approach Kemp Street, I get this strange feeling, like I've done this before. As I begin to recollect my déjà vu, Felicia and haters come from across the street to be my personal tour guides down their block. Ah hell, here we go.
“Are you lost, little girl?” she says, giving her girls a good laugh. The four of them should really get hobbies, jobs or something.
“I'm not interested in your help, Felicia, so just leave me be,” I say, impatient with her bull. She's ruining the high I'm still on from my monologue. As we approach Misty's house, I notice the grass is overgrown and that her trash cans are lying on her front lawn, like no one's been here in quite some time. What's really going on here?
“What are you doing on our block?” Flava, the Latino chick of their crew, says. I see today is one of those days that they're not going to go away so easily. Shit, all I need is to get into a fight right up the street from where my grandmother is. I'll hear about how I couldn't make it down the block without getting into some drama for the rest of my life.
“I was taking the long way for exercise,” I say, walking ahead of them and picking up my pace. They're less likely to throw blows on a main street, and Wilmington is only a few steps away. Netta's shop is next to the gas station on the corner and I know they won't try anything once I'm near the salon.
“Well, we wouldn't want you cheating on your workout, now would we?” Felicia says while her followers step in my path, blocking my way. I'm completely surrounded by four girls who hate me just because I'm me and I have no allies in sight. Everyone on the block seems to be oblivious to what's going on over here, but I wouldn't expect anyone to help me anyway. I don't want to fight, but it doesn't look like I have much of a choice. Felicia's been hating on me all of my life, and it wouldn't be like her to let this opportunity pass by.
“I know this hair is fake, just like her grandmother's,” Monica, the hefty one in the crew, says as she flicks my ponytail.
“Hating's not good for your health,” I say as I yank my ponytail away from her hand, causing L.B., the tiniest in the crew, aptly named after her true hometown of Long Beach, to shove me—and it's on.
“Oh no, you didn't try to get smart with my homegirl. You need to be humbled, little girl,” L.B. says. She continues the shoving contest as I strap my backpack tightly around my waist, ready to throw down. I know I'm going to lose, but they won't get away without taking a couple of blows themselves.
“What she needs is a lesson in respect.” Felicia steps in the middle of the circle, throwing the first punch. I duck and return the smack, hitting her right in the face.
“Jayd, what are you doing?” Bryan says, breaking up the fight. Where did he come from? I know he's not still dealing with Monica's older sister. I thought he gave her trifling ass up weeks ago.
“Defending myself,” I say as he pulls me from the center of the group, where Felicia's still standing, dumbfounded that I got in the only blow. “These tricks interrupted my stroll to Netta's shop,” I say, following Bryan up the block.
“This ain't over, Jayd,” L.B. says as she and her crew take it back across the street. I really have to watch my back around here from now on. I know they'll happily jump my ass if they get the chance again.
“Damn, Jayd, you're like a drama magnet. What were you doing on Kemp anyway?” he says, glancing back at the scene behind us as we continue to walk toward the intersection. I'm glad he showed up, even if it was because he was creeping during the day.
“I could ask you the same question,” I say. We look at each other and silently agree not to mention this episode to Mama. All I need is her worrying about either one of us. Besides, I got what I wanted and got to slap Felicia in front of her girls without getting hit. I'm cool with the whole thing.
“Touché, little queen, touché,” he says as we split up at the gas station. I gather my composure, ready to tell Mama all about my audition and about Misty's strange behavior. I wonder if she could give me a little insight into how to help Misty without getting hurt in the process. I also need some advice on how to handle my situation with Rah. If Mama and Netta can't help me, then I'll have to go to my girls.
 
Walking into Netta's Never Nappy Beauty Salon feels like walking into one of those day spas I see advertised on television. It's the closest thing we've got to one and I feel privileged to have private access on Mama's Tuesdays. I still want to know why my mom didn't care for Netta too much back in the day. But I promised my mom I wouldn't give away any of her secrets. And besides, I can't hide much from her these days anyway.
“Hey, lil queen,” Netta says as she spins Mama around in her chair to greet me too.
“How was school, baby?” She looks so relaxed when she's sitting in Netta's chair. Her hair has grown so much that I can't see her eyes through it hanging over her face.
“It was good,” I say, ready to tell them all about my audition. “I finally got to say my lines today. But at the last minute, my teacher wanted me to do a monologue and, if I do say so myself, I rocked it,” I say, not letting them get a word in edgewise.
“That's great, baby,” Mama says, not feeling my excitement. She's never been completely into my school life. She's just glad I stay out of trouble most of the time. Anything else I do is extra.
“Oh, Jayd, I'm so proud of you,” Netta says. I'm glad she's feeling me. “What were you performing this time?”
“Lady Macbeth's sleepwalking scene,” I say, still feeling the presence of the insane character. Saying those lines took a lot of energy out of a sistah.
“Oh, girl, I love Shakespeare,” Netta says, spinning Mama back around to face her on the stool. “I hope you get it. You'd make an excellent queen in any culture.” Netta winks, lightly smacking on her Juicy Fruit gum. “Speaking of royalty, how's your little king doing? I always did like Rah,” Netta says.
“Rah has been keeping you company more and more lately, hasn't he, Jayd?” Mama says. Why are they asking me about him?
“He came by looking for you, but we told him you weren't here. You just missed him,” Netta says. No, he didn't try to invade on my shop time with Mama. Now I know he's tripping.
“Is everything all right between you two?” Mama says, looking at me through the reflection in the mirror at Netta's station. “He said he would stop by the house to see if you went home first.”
“Yeah, everything's what it is,” I say, feeling a little defeated by Rah's energy. “I don't know what to do about him. Rah's never been easy to deal with, you know.”
“Jayd, you need to get your mojo back, that's what you need to do,” Netta says as she braids a crown around Mama's head, making me envious of her technique. She's been doing hair for so long it's automatic to her by now. Every time I braid, I have to think about the parts, size, and perfection. And my work still doesn't come out as tight as Netta's.
“How did I know you would say that?” I say. Anytime a woman has a problem with a lover, Netta assumes it's because she's given up her power to the man in the relationship, thus losing her mojo.
“Because you've been listening, girl,” Netta says, winking at me and directing me toward her shrine room at the back of the shop. “Go ahead and take one of those love mojos out of the back. Don't give it back until you don't need it anymore.” I know who could really use this: Misty.
“So, how did he miss you? He should have seen you walking up the street at least,” Mama says, probing into my whereabouts, which I was hoping to avoid reporting. But Mama never misses a beat.
“I actually wanted to check up on Misty. She's been acting strange lately and she wasn't at school today. I think it has something to do with KJ.”
“That's not all it has to do with,” Netta says under her breath. By Mama's look, whatever Misty's dealing with is pretty serious.
“Baby, Misty's grandmother died,” Mama says without too much emotion in her voice. Mama and Misty's grandmother never did get along. “I found out when I looked into Esmeralda's house.”
“You mean when you looked through Esmeralda's cats' view of her house,” I say, teasing Mama, who's not in the mood.
“Whatever, Jayd,” she says, impatiently. “Misty's mama is one of her newest clients, and that can't be good.”
“That's the understatement of the year,” Netta says, this time much louder. “You see what happened to the grandmother and she's been dealing with Esmeralda for years. That woman is no good, Lynn Mae. You need to show her who's boss once and for all.” Netta's serious about getting rid of Mama's enemies. She's a homegirl for real.
“Netta, I can't go around getting rid of people. I'm not the mob. But I do agree she needs to be dealt with.”
“What do you think Misty's mom wants from her?” I say, curious about Esmeralda's business. She doesn't seem to work nearly as hard as Mama and she doesn't drive. I wonder how she makes her living.
“Well, I'm sure it's about their house. It belongs to the grandmother's late husband, who's not Misty's granddaddy. So I'm sure they're worried about keeping a roof over their heads. His family already stopped paying to keep the house up. Now it's just a matter of time before Misty and her mama will be out on the street.” Damn, that's rough.
“If they really wanted to keep that house, they would've gone to your grandmother,” Netta says, putting the finishing touches on Mama's do. She looks stunning and her hair, like a crown. “But they went to the vampire. I swear she's worse than the witches in that play of yours,” Netta says, giving us all a good laugh.
“Yes, but sometimes people want quick fixes and magic, which I don't do. So they go to the one they think can help them the quickest and that's usually their downfall.” Mama's right. Just like the witches in
Macbeth
misled the king, which eventually led to his demise, seeking help in the wrong places can do the same thing for Misty and her mom. Even though she's being the bitch from hell in my life, as usual I feel like I have to do something to help her, no matter how hard she bites back—and I know she will. After all, that's what bitches do best.
8
Survival of the Bitchiest
“Your Mama's old fashioned and your daddy don't play/ You'll always be this lovely because they made you that way.”
—OUTKAST
 
 
M
isty missed another day of school yesterday. I was glad, though, because I didn't need any distractions. The auditions continue for the lead roles and I need to concentrate on both the competition and the tryouts for the character of Macbeth. I'm just glad I don't have to kiss any of them, Chance included.
“Hey Jayd,” Seth calls out in the cafeteria. I rarely see Seth outside of class. Even if the students are so-called liberals, many of them still don't approve of homosexuality. “See the results yet?”
“No, I thought they weren't going to be up until after school,” I say, surprised at his question.
“Oh, you know how Mrs. Sinclair loves drama. She posted them a little while ago,” he says, waving his hand as only he can do. “Honey, you'd better get down there before the crowd.”
“Thank you,” I say, skipping the lunch line and heading toward the drama room. “Aren't you coming?” I ask, realizing he hasn't moved from his spot.
“No. It doesn't matter to me who gets the parts. My job is always secure,” he says. Seth's nothing if not pragmatic.
“Fine. Be that way then,” I say, feigning hurt. But he's right. The folks behind the scenes have stable positions. It's the actors who are vulnerable to getting cut.
“I hope you get it though,” he says to my back as I race down the hill.
When I get down there, Laura and Reid are already there. Reid has a huge smile on his face and Laura's facing the wall. I know this trick didn't get my part.
“Here comes my wife now,” Reid says, as I move through the small crowd to read the paper on the wall that lists the parts and the names of the actors playing them. He's got to be joking. There's no way fate would allow us to be in the same play together, let alone play a married couple.
“No,” I say at the news that I've been cast opposite this jackass. This can't be happening. I check the paper one more time, just to make sure my eyes aren't playing tricks on me and everyone else.
“Come to daddy,” Reid says, making everyone in the crowded space laugh. Chance comes out of the classroom door to chaperone me in. Why is this happening to me?
“I just found out. You have my sincerest apologies and congratulations,” he says before laughing at my twisted fortune.
“Shut up, fool,” I say, punching him in the arm. “At least I don't have to be a ghost,” I say, making fun of his supporting role. But playing the best friend does suit him more.
“Hey, Banquo is hella flyy. You know I'm going to hook his gear up.” Chance is crazy. He's also taking this lightly, to my surprise. Usually he doesn't lose quite so gracefully.
“Well, I'm glad you're finding the situation funny. How the hell am I supposed to play opposite Reid, especially after what he did to Nellie?” I know he wasn't totally to blame. Still, he was the mastermind behind my girl's near-naked exposé.
“I don't know what to tell you, Jayd. But if you're going to rock Lady Mac B, you're going to have to deal with Reid's punk ass for the next four weeks, just like the rest of us.” Chance is right, Reid is a punk-ass and I'm sure him being among the Thespians will be just as uncomfortable for him as it will be for us.
“Did I hear right?” Nellie says from out of nowhere. She and Mickey must have decided to take a stroll down the hill after lunch. I guess they were wondering where the crew went, and since Nigel and Mickey are still at each other's throats, being in South Central must be no fun today.
“Yeah, unfortunately you did,” I say, leaving the crowded corridor and joining my girls. Mickey looks completely disgusted, which is her usual expression when she ventures down this way. “Reid got the lead role and I'm cast opposite him.” No matter how many times I say it aloud, it still doesn't sound right.
“Not for long,” Laura says, her eyes red from crying. I didn't realize she was that upset. “You got the part because you are the drama department's little token black girl and everyone knows it.”
“What have you been smoking, white girl?” Mickey says, ready to get up in Laura's face. But I've got this one.
“First of all, don't you ever come at me for being the only black girl in drama, because that was certainly not by my design,” I say, ready to slap her myself. But I've done enough hitting this week. I need to try and reason with this chick, if not for myself then for the production. “And second of all, but most important, I got the part because I'm a better actor than you—plain and simple. So don't get mad at me because you aren't going to be in the play.”
“Oh, but I am in the play,” Laura says, wiping the smile clean off of my face. “I'm not only one of the maidservants who gets killed in the beginning, but I also get the pleasure of being your understudy.” Damn, this isn't getting any better for me. I guess what they say about being careful what you wish for applies in every situation.
“Well, study hard,” Mickey says. “Maybe you'll learn something.” And with that last sass, Mickey struts back up the hill as the bell for fifth period rings, causing everyone who doesn't have stage production or drama class to race toward the main campus.
“We'll catch up after school, Jayd,” Nellie says before giving Chance a kiss and following the crowd. “I'm sure Mickey wouldn't mind dropping you off on your special day.”
“I heard that,” Mickey yells, almost at the top of the hill. “What have I told you about offering my services without my consent? I'm going to start charging you every time you do that shit,” Mickey says. But her nod tells me that she's cool with the slight inconvenience and I know her man's still got her on a tight leash, so I ain't tripping no way. Besides, I need to get my girl's advice about how to handle things with Rah before he picks me up from school tomorrow. Knowing him, he hasn't let a little thing like me not talking to him sway him from his desire to see me, and he knows I would appreciate a ride to my mom's for the weekend.
 
“Settle down, class, settle down,” Mrs. Sinclair says as we take our seats and get ready for the play schedule and announcements to begin. “We have special guests today and will be sharing our fifth period with them for the next four weeks. Please welcome Ms. Toni and her ASB class.” What! Now we have to be in class with them? This is just too much for me to take.
“Hello class, and thank you for sharing your space with us,” Ms. Toni says as her small class fills in the remainder of the seats. “It's going to be tight in here for the month, but we are determined to make this work,” she says, sitting in a seat not far from mine and returning the floor to Mrs. Sinclair. It's nice to see two teachers who get along.
“Okay, I know you're wondering why we are joining forces,” she says. I can't speak for everyone in the room, but I know I am. “Well, the truth is, students and teachers alike have a lot of ongoing activities after school. So, we thought it would be best to join forces and hold mandatory lunch and fifth period rehearsals.” Wow, they are serious about this festival. It's really not that big of a deal to the students. But I guess these types of events bring in big bucks for the organizations and props for the teachers, too.
“But Mrs. S,” Chance says. I knew he was going to have a problem with lunch rehearsals. He barely comes to the meetings we hold during that time. I know he can't do rehearsals every day. “What about food? A brotha's got to eat.”
“Don't worry, Chance,” she says, rolling her eyes and giving him a slight smile. She's the tiniest white woman with the biggest red hair I've ever seen. “We're having the rehearsals catered by the Booster Club, so thank your parents when you get home for their ongoing support. Now, Seth, the folders please.” Mama would never give her hard-earned money to these rich kids to have their lunches catered and neither would my mom or dad.
Seth passes out the thick packets with our scripts, schedules and contact sheets for the cast members, all enclosed in a black and silver personalized
Macbeth
folder: another gift from the boosters. As the class and guests alike get acquainted with the information, I decide to holla at Ms. Toni. The only benefit from this arrangement—aside from the obvious time advantage—is that I'll get to have her in my class.
“Hey Ms. Toni,” I say, hugging her around the neck before taking the empty seat next to hers. “So what do you know about Mr. Adewale?”
“Well, hello to you too, Miss Hottie,” she says, laughing at my unsubtle approach. “Don't even think about it, Jayd. You know he's too old for you.” Man, she can kill a dream quick.
“I know that. But a girl can fantasize, can't she?” I say. And fantasize about him I do. He looks like a younger, slightly shorter Gary Dourdan, dimples included. Only difference is that Mr. Adewale's got dreads, like Gary on
A Different World
back in the day. I hope he teaches in the AP courses.
“No. If he gets the position here, girls are going to be all over him,” she says, as serious as a heart attack. “You've got to promise me you won't be one of his groupies, Jayd. All the young brotha needs is controversy.” Ms. Toni's right. I'll just have to wait until I graduate to holla at the new teacher.
“Okay, I promise. But don't be mad if I end up his favorite student,” I say, still excited about seeing him every day. “So when does he start, what's he teaching? Come on, I want the entire scoop.”
“He's starting as soon as Mrs. Peterson retires and will be a rotating substitute until then. He's teaching Honors Spanish and AP Government, and the rest is none of your business.”
“So, I get to have him for a teacher? Oh, this day just took a turn for the better,” I say. The news of Mrs. Peterson leaving soon alone is enough to get me hyped. I have to get to work on something that will help get her out of the picture that much sooner.
“Okay, let's get started on our first read-through,” Mrs. Sinclair says, rounding up the class for our first official rehearsal. I can't wait to tell Mickey and Nellie the good news about our latest addition at South Bay. I know they'll be just as excited as I am about the new black man joining our campus. Maybe he can be a good example and show our dudes how to behave.
 
“Jayd, are you serious? You're excited about a new teacher? Girl, please. You need to get over this school love affair and soon,” Mickey says, sucking on her lollipop as we cruise down the 91 freeway, almost to my exit. “What you need to do is get excited about the fact that Rah broke up with his girl for you. Now, that's some news.”
“He didn't break up with her, Mickey. He told her he wanted to have an open relationship. That's still a relationship, Mickey, and I'm tired of settling for his shit. I'd rather be alone any day than be one of many.”
“I hear you, girl,” Nellie says, taking her head out of her book long enough to comment. “I think he'll value you more if you stand up for your principles now,” she says, sounding like one of the shrinks on
Oprah
.
“Where'd you get that from?” Mickey says, looking at her copilot like she just farted. “And what are you reading now? Some self-help mumbo jumbo again?”
“Actually, it's one of two books about why men fall for—for lack of a better word—bitches,” Nellie says, like she's just introduced an etiquette book to us.
“You don't need any more lessons in that department,” Mickey says, and she's right. Nellie's the biggest bitch of us all and she's good at it.
“It's not about being that kind of bitch,” Nellie says, not even ashamed of her title. “It's about empowering yourself in relationships with men. There are a bunch of rules about what to do in certain situations, but the gist is that the bitch keeps dudes guessing, never settling for less than what she deserves.”
“Well, I agree with that approach wholeheartedly. Where'd you get that book?” I ask. The look on Nellie's face tells me I don't want to know the answer.
“Where'd you get it from, girl?” Mickey asks, oblivious to Nellie's expression. As she exits on Central Avenue, Nellie gets quiet and stares out the window.
“I got it from Tania,” she says, immediately discrediting everything she's said in Mickey's mind. But, I'm still feeling the book.
“Don't shoot the messenger, Mickey,” I say, making light of the fact that Nellie left us behind to hang with the popular chicks when she was crowned homecoming princess a few weeks ago. But that's all over now and good information is good information, no matter where it comes from.
“I'm not shooting anyone and I damn sure don't want to hear about nothing that heffa recommended. Who are you, president of the bitch book club?” Mickey's right, Tania was a heffa. But she was also good at getting what she wanted and I don't mind learning the craft from others. I don't want to manipulate like she did, but I do want to know how to get what I want and keep a man's respect, always. Unlike Misty, I'm not willing to give my entire self to a dude, and that type of behavior doesn't seem to keep them interested for too long anyway.
BOOK: Lady J
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