Life Is Funny (2 page)

“Have you ever visited him at work?” Ebony's asking me. She's pulling at the let-out hem of her jeans, to make fringes. She does stuff slower than Grace, who's putting her jeans on to see if her done fringes are even enough.

“Once,” I say. I'm busy gluing all my cutout words onto three different pieces of small cardboard. When I'm done, each collage will slip into a plastic key chain frame just like a picture would.

“Did you meet a lot of stars?”

“There's not really any stars on the news,” I answer. “But he's going to switch over to a soap opera soon.”

“I bet stars don't even talk to the cameramen anyway,” Grace says, and then we hear the front door bang open and Grace's mother yell, “I'm home!”

“Shit,” Grace goes, and the next minute her mother's standing in the bedroom doorway, hands on her hips, mouth wide enough to catch a truckload of flies.

“Hi, Ms. Sanborn,” I go, to show her how polite black girls can be.

“Hi, Ms. Sanborn,” Ebony goes.

“That's Ebony, and that's China,” Grace says. She looks real calm, but I can see a vein, or something, bouncing in her neck.

“Nice to meet you,” Grace's mom says. But she's not looking at us, plus she met us once already. I guess she doesn't remember. “Now you'll have to leave.”

*  *  *

“What a bitch,” Ebony says while we're waiting for the day care to let out. We bought McDonald's again, but we're too mad to eat.

“You think she'll let Grace sleep over with us Friday?”

“You think she's going to shit honey anytime soon?”

“Hey,” I go. “That boy isn't around. That Eric boy.”

“What. You like him now?” Ebony starts smirking.

“It's not like that,” I go.

“Riiight,” she says, all attitude.

“For real,” I tell her.

The bell rings, and the twins run out. They're wearing all kinds of painted and strung-up macaroni. Bracelets, necklaces, belts.

“Y'all want some nuggets?” we ask. They grab them and run off to the jungle gym.

I see that Mickey looking around. I see him walk to the playground's fence. I see him stare over at a lady I didn't notice before who's leaning on the fence gate. She's way skinny and ashy like you never saw. Mickey scuffs over to her. She starts walking away as soon as he's near. He speeds up to get next to her and hands over his macaroni necklace. She puts it on over her head, without stopping or even looking at him or anything.

Today he's not giggling. Or humming.

*  *  *

“May I speak to Grace, please?” I go.

“No, you may not,” her mom says. “Grace is grounded from the phone.”

“I'm sorry we didn't have your permission,” I say. I don't want to get Grace into more mess, but still.

“Your apology is accepted.”

“We're real clean,” I say. “And we don't make any noise or bother your neighbors.”

“I'll tell Grace you called,” Ms. Sanborn says.

“Grace is our best friend,” I tell her.

“I'm aware of that.”

“Maybe you could ask our mothers to punish us instead,” I say. “Because, really, we kind of made Grace let us come over.”

“Good-bye,” her mom says. Then she hangs up the phone.

What a bitch.

*  *  *

On Thursday me and Ebony don't hang out together at Grace's first, so we meet up at the day care. I get there early. That younger girl, Keisha, is hanging out by the tire swings. Eric's leaning up against the wall. I wave to Keisha and then walk up the stoop to Eric.

“Hi,” I go. He doesn't say anything. Plus he does kind of smell.

“You want a nugget?” I ask. He glares at the nuggets, and then he glares at me.

“I saw your mother yesterday,” I go.

He won't say a mad word. Maybe it wasn't even his mother.

“Is she sick?”

“Get the fuck out my face,” he tells me.

*  *  *

Friday Grace races into the McDonald's right when me and Ebony are ordering.

“Hey, girl!” Ebony goes. “How'd you get out?”

“I'm grounded for a month, same for the phone,” Grace pants. “But my mom's at work every day. So screw her.” She's red and shiny from running in the heat. All the McDonald's boys are staring at her under their baseball hats. She plays like she doesn't notice, though.

“My mom's not paying you,” Ebony warns.

“Like I want your money,” Grace says.

“Oooooh,” I go.

Outside we see Eric walking ahead of us.

“That's him,” Ebony tells Grace. “That's the one China wants to get with. Isn't he nasty?”

“I do not either want to get with him,” I say. “And don't call him nasty. Something's wrong with his mother or something.”

“So?” Ebony goes. “He's still nasty.”

The thing I notice today just about knocks me over. You'd think he'd slide his eyes over Grace if he slid them over anybody. But it's like he doesn't even see her. The person he watches is Ebony when she stoops in the middle of the playground to help Mattie reglue her milk carton castle.

*  *  *

Grace's mother has a date with some new neighbor, so Grace sneaks out to Ebony's.

“Somebody would get with your mom?” Ebony goes, and then she says quick, “No offense.”

“Like I care,” Grace tells us. We're in the kitchen, making brownies. When we're at Ebony's, we bake. At my house it's usually popcorn. We don't eat at Grace's.

“You girls want a movie?” Ebony's mother asks, poking her head into the kitchen.

The phone rings, and Ebony grabs it. “Hello,” she goes.

“That's the twins,” her mom tells us. They're at an overnight somewhere.

“This is Ebony,” Ebony says. Then she gets real quiet. I guess it's not the twins.

“Who is it?” Ms. Giles asks.

“Uh huh,” Ebony goes.

“Ebony?”

“I don't remember,” Ebony tells the phone. “I didn't get any.” Then she says, “Hang on.” She holds out the phone.

“He says he's my daddy,” she goes. “He's crying.”

Ms. Giles grabs the phone and covers the receiver with her hand.

“Go upstairs,” she orders us. “Now.”

*  *  *

We stretch across Ebony's bed and try to figure out how to listen in, but even though Ebony's got mad phone stuff, like call waiting and speaker and three way, we can't figure out anything for spying.

“What did he sound like?” Grace asks.

“He was all happy at first,” Ebony goes. “He was real happy.” She's swinging around her sock monkey doll by his tail.

“He was all how he sent me these letters on my birthdays, and did I like them.”

“You never told us about any letters,” Grace says.

“Well, I never got any, girl,” Ebony goes, popping Grace's knee with that monkey.

“You said he was crying,” I say.

“He was.”

“But you said he was happy.”

“He was crying from happiness,” Grace guesses, rolling her eyes.

“Wrong,” Ebony says. “He was crying when I told him I never got any dumbass letters.”

We all think about that for a minute, trying to figure it out, and then Grace asks me, “Did you ever see your dad cry?”

“Nope.”

“Did y'all ever see your mothers cry?” Ebony goes.

We shake our heads, and then Ebony's mom walks in.

“Was that really my daddy?” Ebony asks. She doesn't sit up or anything. She just keeps swinging that sock monkey over her head.

“Yes,” her mom says. “Do you want to talk about this now, with your friends here?” she goes. “Or do you want to wait until you and I can discuss it on our own?”

Ebony shrugs. Me and Grace look at each other. I know she's hoping what I am. We want to hear all about it.

“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow then,” Ms. Giles says.

Ebony shrugs again.

*  *  *

Grace sneaks home an hour later, and I wake up in the middle of the night without Ebony next to me. I get spooked, but when I find Ebony all tucked in with her mother, I step away because it seems like something private.

“ ‘. . . and how you first fluttered,' ” I hear Ebony's mom whispering, “ ‘then jumped and I thought it was my heart.' ”

*  *  *

At the tire swings Ebony chomps at her nails and spits the bits out in a pile.

“That's disgusting,” Grace tells her.

Ebony's daddy called again yesterday. Her mom doesn't know. Ebony said he was telling her all about some woman he wants her to meet. Ebony said he was talking slow and sounded like he was forgetting words a lot of the time. Grace said maybe he'd been drinking.

“Y'all want to sleep over at my house on Friday?” I go, while I'm looking at Eric, trying to figure out what that mad bulge is in his back pocket.

“Mmmkay,” Ebony says.

“I'll come by for a while,” Grace goes. She'll have to sneak out again. She's still got a week left on punishment.

Ebony squints over at Eric. “He stinks,” she tells me, evil. “I can smell him from here.” That's a lie.

“It's not his fault,” I go.

“How do you know?” Grace says, not evil, only curious.

“I just do.”

“You're the one who said he was scary,” Ebony tells me, standing up from the swings.

“I changed my mind,” I say. “And stop talking loud. He's not deaf.”

“So?”

“Hi, girls,” we hear, and Ebony's mother comes through the gate.

“Do we still get paid for today?” Ebony asks when her mom gets to our swings.

“Of course,” Ms. Giles says. “I can't stay anyway. I'm on my way to Fifth Street to show a two-bedroom.”

I'm trying to catch Eric's eye, but he's stupid stubborn. I guess Ebony's mother sees me looking. “Who's that?” she asks.

“Some fool,” Ebony says.

“He's not a fool,” I tell them.

“He kind of is,” Grace says.

“He is not!” I go, loud.

“What's your problem?” Ebony snaps, and then Grace, instead of rolling her eyes at me, she sucks her teeth hard at Ebony and kicks near the fingernail pile.

“He's not a fool,” I tell Ebony's mother. My voice is crazy shaky, and my face is all hot, and I don't even know why.

Ms. Giles puts her hand on my shoulder and looks over at Eric. I try to keep from crying while the bell rings and the kids fly through the doors. Ebony's mother watches the day care lady glare at Eric until Mickey comes out, his nose all nasty. Eric yanks a tissue from his back pocket bulge and holds it up to Mickey's face.

“Blow,” he goes.

“Battered by the tides like an abandoned ship, a spirit adrift,” Ms. Giles says, real low.

“Mom!” Ebony groans at her.

“Just chill,” Grace snaps at Ebony. “Jesus.”

“He's got poetry,” I go, all choky. “He's got mad poetry.”

*  *  *

I get a runny head and start feeling wobbly, and my mom takes my temperature and then kicks my daddy off the couch during
Jeopardy
so I can lie down. My daddy gives me the clicker and sits in the armchair, and my mom puts the tissue box and a blanket, even though it's about a million degrees outside, on the coffee table. Then she brings me this special kind of aspirin she gets for free from her boss at the drugstore and lemon honey tea and tells me to drink it hot. My daddy feels my forehead and the fat mug with the back of his hand and then makes my mom drop ice cubes into the tea, to cool it.

“You're going to kill her,” he scolds. “She's going to melt like the Wicked Witch of the West.”

Then they sit with me watching whatever I want to for a while, and right in the middle of a car commercial I understand “a spirit adrift,” and I feel this thing ease through my skin with the fever, showing me how mad stupid mean the world can be and just how lucky I got, and it's a warm sad feeling, like tea steam wrapping comfort around some new, crying part of my heart.

OKAY. WHAT HAPPENED was, at the end of last year Mara was best friends with Jessie, but then Mara's boyfriend, who's in high school now, fooled around with Jessie. So Mara beat up Jessie, and then Jessie and this girl Trisha were best friends, and me and Mara and this other Jessie were best friends. But then this Jessie number two moved to Queens and Jessie number one beat up Mara on the first day of school this year for beating her up last year, and then she and Mara were best friends again, and Trisha ended up being best friends with some girl from California.

So then Mara started going out with this white boy, and Jessie started going out with DeShawn. But then the white boy got suspended for a week after he called that ugly special ed Eric kid “welfare chickenhead can't read chicken feed” and the Eric kid threw a chair at the white boy, and the white boy threw a chair back, and it hit this hyper round-face Gingerbread boy in the back of the head, and the white boy and ugly special ed Eric both got suspended, and then DeShawn wouldn't talk to Mara even though she wasn't any part of it, and then Mara told Jessie if she hung with DeShawn, they couldn't be friends. So Jessie dumped DeShawn at lunch, and DeShawn said he was going out with JaNeesha anyway, which wasn't true because I used to be friends with JaNeesha and she never even liked him.

Okay. So when we had the food map project for history class, Mara and Jessie and me were all in the same group and they let me be their second best friend, so ever since Thanksgiving we've all three been mad tight, and we're all going to the same high school one day and then later go out with NBA players and live near a park and travel to Disney World every summer. We're all going to end up the same except Mara's going to stay darker than me, and I'm going to stay darker than Jessie, and also Mara wants three girls and three boys, and Jessie only wants boys, and I don't want either because when I get old, I'm just going to keep my aunt Eva and my little cousin Tory for family the same way Aunt Eva keeps me and my brother, Nick, right now.