Skin I'm in, The (12 page)
Midnight
At midnight, if you have eyes to see,
There’s beauty and there’s majesty.
Sweet brown babies tucked in tight,
Shooting stars bursting through the night.
Strong, sturdy trees reaching for the sky
Dancing and swaying to the moon’s lullaby.
Quiet waters. Silent nights.
Angels soaring toward the light.
At midnight, if you have eyes to see
There’s beauty and there’s majesty.
Char don’t understand what’s going on with me. She looks at me and calls me stupid, the way I’m smiling to myself. Then she tells John-John to shut his big, stupid mouth. He winks and keeps moving. But he’s still looking back at me, like he can’t figure out what’s got a hold of me.
Char’s saying something about how she’s gotta always look out for me, but I ain’t listening really. I’m saying that poem over in my head again and again.
Next thing I know, here comes Caleb. When Char sees him, she starts talking real proper, all up in his face, telling him how she likes his braids. Asking the name of that cologne he’s wearing.
″Hey, Maleeka,″ he calls to me, ignoring Char. Caleb sure looks good. And he smells even better. He’s got on a lime-green African dashiki with tiny golden swirls stitched on it. He and me just stand there, smiling at each other.
Char pushes herself between us. ″You can thank me for how good Maleeka looked,″ she says, snuggling up to Caleb. ″I bought them clothes for her. Gotta keep my girl looking good,″ she says, licking her lips.
Caleb tries to peel Char’s fingers off his arms. It ain’t easy, she’s holding on tight. ″I’ve been thinking some more about what we talked about in detention,″ Caleb says to me, finally getting Char off him and moving closer to where I am. ″I been thinking about changing things around here. Making things better,″ he says.
″What you mean, like scrubbing floors?″ I ask, wrinkling my nose.
″Some of us are getting together tomorrow to talk about ways to improve McClenton. You should come, Maleeka,″ he says, peeling Char’s hand off him again.
″Maleeka’s busy,″ Char snaps.
″Yeah,″ I say. ″Busy.″
″Come after you’re done then,″ Caleb says.
Char busts out laughing. ″Sure, Maleeka will come after she’s done. Me, too. I’m coming, too. We’re
all
gonna help save the school, right, Maleeka?″ she says, shoving me so hard I almost fall down.
I’m half listening. I’m trying to figure a way out of this mess. Ever since Char came up with this plan of ruining Miss Saunders, I been praying for God to give me a strong spirit like Akeelma’s and Kinjari’s.
″Listen up, Maleeka,″ Caleb says, grabbing hold of my arm, and whispering in my ear. ″Your girl Char is whacked. You better stay clear of her before she ends up taking you down with her.″
″Char and me are friends,″ I say quietly.
″Yeah, right,″ Caleb says, shaking his head. ″Char’s the kind of friend that will get you locked up or shot up,″ he says, walking away.
When Caleb is all the way down the street, I can still smell his cologne. I can still hear him warning me to stay clear of Char. He don’t know what he’s saying, though. You can’t just stop being Char’s friend. She don’t go for nothing like that.
″Maleeka, get over here.″ Char’s screaming at the top of her lungs, like I’m far away.
My heart starts beating fast and wild. I know Char’s plan ain’t gonna mean nothing but trouble for me. But I got to go along, anyhow. Nobody ever turns their back on Char. Not unless they’re tired of living or something stupid like that.
I LAY AWAKE IN BED
three whole hours before I sneak out of the house to meet Char. I keep trying to think of some reason I can give Char for not showing up. A good reason that Char will buy so I won’t get my butt kicked. But I’m too scared to think straight, so I put on my clothes and go.
It’s still kind of dark when I get to school. During school hours, the front door is locked and kids have to be buzzed in. But early in the morning like this, when the janitors and the folks who do the cooking are just making their way in, the door is unlocked.
We all meet by the side of the building and make sure it’s clear before we go in. I’m trying to tell Char I don’t think I want to do this, but she ain’t listening. She’s telling me to be quiet and to get going inside.
Raina, as stupid as she is, lets the door slam shut behind us.
″Who’s there?″ the janitor yells from one of the classrooms.
We don’t move. All four of us stand there like dummies ready to be caught. Lucky for us, the janitor ain’t much worried. He doesn’t bother to come and see what’s the matter. He just turns up his portable radio, and starts singing.
We laugh and tiptoe down the hallway right past the classroom where he is cleaning. Maybe this won’t be so bad, I think. Then we run up the steps, Char’s high heels sounding like hammers banging nails whenever she takes a step.
You would think Miss Saunders would lock up her room like the other teachers do. But she doesn’t. She told us once that this was our school, and we needed to take responsibility for it. That if things got destroyed, it was us that missed out, not nobody else.
Miss Saunders has redone her classroom, like she does for every new book we take on. Monday, we start
Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves.
Her classroom has got about a hundred ribbons hanging from the ceiling. Sheer puffy curtains are tacked to the walls. The room is full of purples, pinks, and greens. All them colors and curtains make the room look soft and safe.
Our desks are pushed up against the back wall, and lots of pillows, like they sit on in them Arabian movies, are scattered all over the place. Char throws herself down on the pillows and stretches out like she’s gonna be here awhile.
″Maybe we should go,″ I say. ″Miss Saunders has just done the room over. She’s gonna kill us for messing it up.″
Char rolls her eyes my way. ″Payback has got to cost something,″ she says, laughing.
I take a long, deep breath and look down at my clothes. I’m wearing the ones Momma made. Char’s got a bag in her hand with the clothes she’s gonna give me today. I want to tell her to keep the stuff. But I keep my mouth shut and take the bag.
The twins are the first to go into Miss Saunders’s desk. Raise grabs a bottle of glue and swirls a design on a red velvet pillow. Then she takes the gooey pillow and smears it cross the windows and walls.
Char lets out a low, mean laugh, and reaches up and yanks some curtains down. She tells Raise to hand her the scissors, then she jabs holes in the curtains. Raise and Raina stab the pillows, pull out the stuffing, and toss the feathers around the room.
Nobody notices me for a long while. I’m standing by the door staring till Char says, ″Get over here, Maleeka. You’re in on this too.″
I have to do something. They’ll think I’m chicken if I don’t. So I get Miss Saunders’s grade book out of the desk. Her watch is sitting there ticking loud as a clock. I close the drawer and erase a bunch of D’s in the book. I put A’s in their place.
″Is that it, Maleeka?″ Char says. ″You gotta do better than that. Get over here.″ She takes a lighter out of her pocket and hands it to me. She tells me to burn the pile of money on the table. It’s not the kind of money we use in this country. It’s some foreign money, with puffy-headed kings and queens wearing tall collars.
″I want all that money gone,″ Char says, heading back for the desk and digging around inside.
I don’t move. I stand real still.
″You hear me talking?″ Char asks. She digs around in the desk drawer, shoves something in her pocket, and dumps the drawer on the floor.
″This ain’t right,″ I whisper.
Char grabs hold of my hand, and says, ″Do it, or I ain’t never gonna bring you no clothes.″
I shake my head. ″No.″
″You protecting Miss Saunders?″ Char wants to know. ″You protecting that hussy? Why? She don’t like you, neither. All the time making a fool out of you in class. You stupid girl. Do like I say or I’ll do something to mess
you
up.″
I don’t say nothing. Even though Miss Saunders and I didn’t hit it off right away, she is still a teacher, I tell Char. She still runs the show.
Char grabs hold of my shoulder blade and squeezes till my knees get weak. ″Like I said, I will jack you up, girl. Do you hear me?″
While Char’s pinching my shoulder, she takes her baby finger and sticks it up her nose like a plug in a sink. She blows hard, sending a bunch of snot splattering over the money. ″Do what I say or I’m gonna do worse yet,″ she says, flicking her lighter’s flame close to my head.
I stare Char in the eyes. Momma always says you can tell a person by their eyes. Char’s eyes don’t have no life to them. They’re cold and hard like flat black skipping rocks you find at the bottom of the creek.
I shake my head. ″No, I ain’t doing it,″ I say softly. But Char squeezes my shoulder so hard, I hear my bones creak.
I grab the lighter with my other hand and set the money on fire. The kings and queens curl up, turn black, and disappear. There’s nothing but ashes on the table.
Char lets me loose, and heads over to the twins. I’m crying in the corner, wishing I could undo this whole school year. Wishing I could go back to being who I was, not somebody’s fool.
I’m rubbing my arm when I hear something popping and sizzling. It’s the curtains on the wall— they’re on fire!
″Girl, you in trouble now,″ Char says to me, her eyes wide.
″Shhh,″ Raise says, peeking out the door. ″Somebody’s out there. It’s the janitor. He’s around the corner, heading our way.″
″I’m outta here,″ Char says.
She’s the first to run. I’m the last. I’m grabbing hold of the bag of clothes she brought me. When I pick it up, the bag rips and the clothes fall out. I’m shoving them back in and trying to run at the same time. Clothes are dropping with every step I take. The janitor is yelling my name. ″Maleeka, Maleeka Madison. What you doing here?…Oh my Lord…. What have you done, girl?″
I run down the steps, two at a time. I fall down and bust open my knee. When I’m out of the building, Char and the twins ain’t nowhere in sight. It’s just me out there and fire engines from the stationhouse around the corner coming to undo what I just done. Rain is coming down and plucking me on the head. I look left, then right, and finally run home, crying my eyes out.
I CAN HARDLY GET THE KEY
in the lock. My hands are shaking. Shaking like crazy. I hold the key with my steady hand, but I still drop it. Miss Jackson, our neighbor, has a bunch of dogs that are barking like mad. Growling like they wanna come tear me to pieces.
Where’s that key?
I scream in my head. My knee is still bleeding, while I’m crawling around looking for the key.
When Miss Jackson sticks her head out the window, shushing them dogs, I keep real still. Still as stone. Miss Jackson’s looking to see why her dogs are so excited. She misses seeing me and slams her window shut.
Them dogs know I’m here, though. They start barking again. Jumping against the fence like they’re trying to knock it down and come for me. Them dogs would eat you alive if they could.
I finally find the key, but then I drop it again. How am I gonna explain this to Momma, tell her I set fire to a classroom?
Finally, I let myself inside. I take off my shoes. Put them near the couch. Then head upstairs…real slow. But them old wooden steps, they talk. Every time I set foot on one, it tells on me. They creak like crazy. So I step real soft. I put my foot down easy as a baby going down for a nap. I get three steps out of the way.
Four. Five.
Momma is still snoring.
Nine.
I hear Momma turning over. Talking in her sleep.
Ten, the last step. Almost home free.
My heart is beating hard. My breath is coming out of me like I just run ten blocks.