Street Soldiers (11 page)

The spirit book also talks about the many women in our bloodline who’ve either had our veve tattooed or branded on their bodies, usually on the left shoulder. From the drawings Maman left behind, Califia’s brand was a gorgeous brick red color against her dark brown skin.

“That looks like it hurt,” I say aloud. I don’t think I’m woman enough to get a brand. I know some fraternity brothas practice the outdated method of claiming ownership on slaves and cattle. I think there’s a reason tattoos have become more popular than the hot iron to skin method.

Rah probably won’t be back from Compton for another hour or so. The ever-present luggage under my eyes tells me that I could use a quick nap. The spirit book will be nice and cozy on the coffee table; I’ll study some more when I wake up.

*

“Queen Califia, he’s coming for you,” a young girl whispers to me. We seem to be in some sort of cave with several dozen other people of various ages. The only light comes from the fire burning in the center of the circle of chained bodies. My ankles are bound together and my right hand is bound to the girl’s left.

“It’ll be okay,” I say, comforting the child even though I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“Aren’t you scared, Queen?” I look into her big, brown eyes filled with fear.

“Scared of what?” I asked, confused about the situation.

“Of Master Cortez doing what he did to them on you.”

I follow her eyes to the other Africans, all shackled and freshly branded with the letter C on their left shoulders. I feel my shoulder and notice that I haven’t been burned—yet.

“There’s no time to be scared, Sophia,” I say, quickly assessing the situation. No matter the outcome Queen Califia wouldn’t go down without a fight. “We have to fight fire with fire to defeat the evil taking over our land.”

I grab the eleke around my neck with our family veve in gold hanging from the center and kiss it to my forehead. “I’ll be damned if he claims my body as his property, not like this.”

Tired of sitting in the near dark, I stand up forcing Sophia to also stand. I glare at the wall until my eyes begin to take on a green glow similar to Maman’s. At first nothing happens, but moments later I can clearly see through the wall. Cortez and his men are searching for a new tool to brand me with. He wants to make sure he makes an example out of the dethroned Queen of California.

The other captives blankly stare at me, traumatized by the day’s events. One minute they were wealthy property owners and the next violently captured by Cortez and his army. Surrendering was never an option.

“Come on,” I say to Sophia, gently pulling the shackles and moving toward the flames. I take my necklace off and dangle the gold charm in the fire until it’s bright red. Sophia’s eyes glow with tears ready to fall.

I grit my teeth and smile. “Everything will be okay because we know who owns our souls.” I lay the necklace on my left shoulder; the hot metal burns my skin adding to the stench of freshly seared flesh in the air. Rather than scream from the pain, I feel Califia’s sight become stronger with each passing moment.

“Are you all right, Queen?” Sophia asks, the water in her eyes suspended as she awaits my answer.

All of the captives are staring at me as if I’ve just sentenced us all to death. Weren’t we already dead? “If I’m going to be claimed it’ll be by my own hands, not his.”

Cortez enters the space and approaches me with his new tool in hand. He spits fresh tobacco juice on the ground and advances toward Sophia and me. Ignoring my young companion’s terror, Cortez grabs me by the arm and stops short of throwing us to the ground.

“What is this witchcraft you’ve defiled your body with?” he screams, throwing me against the stone wall with all of his strength.

Blood drips from my mouth. Sophia cries out in fear as Cortez curses our gods in his native tongue. Queen Califia knows what she’s doing. I smile at my abuser, ready to give him a taste of his own medicine.

“Sir, it’s glowing!” one of Cortez’s soldiers exclaims, pointing at my arm. “Ay dios mio! The brand’s on fire!”

Cortez opens his water canteen and pours out the entire contents onto my shoulder. Instead of quenching the fire the water fuels the flames and Califia’s power.

“We will all burn to the ground before you make slaves out of us!” I say, calling my relatives to arms.

At first, the other women, men and children in the room stare on in silence, but one by one they rise to their feet in solidarity. With flames dancing all around us, we are finally set free.

*

My cell rings loudly and scares me half to death.

“Hello,” I say groggily into my cell. How long have I been out?

“Jayd, it’s Rah. Did I wake you?”

“You could say that,” I say, touching my right shoulder. It feels hot much like it did in my vision a moment ago. “Are you ready for me to do your hair?”

“First me and Nigel are going to get new tats real quick. Want to roll?” Rah asks like they’re going to Ralph’s for groceries. As many tattoos as they both have I guess it is a bit like shopping to them.

“What about your hair?” I ask, suddenly aware I’m losing money to Rah’s impulsive buy. “I need my ends, sun.”

Rah laughs at my East coast accent but I’m serious.

“We’ll take care of all that.”

I think it’s interesting that I just had a dream about a tattoo of sorts and now my boys are talking about going to get one. I wouldn’t mind getting out of the house and doing something other than working for a change.

“Okay. Give me fifteen minutes to get over there,” I say, rising from the couch and wiping the drool from my chin. I was out like a baby and grateful for it. “A quick face wash and I’ll be ready to go.” Thank goodness it’s just my boys. If it were Keenan or Jeremy I’d have to go through a whole other process before walking outside.

“Aight. We’ll see you when you get here,” Rah says, hanging up.

It may not be the perfect time to drill Nigel on his feelings for Mickey but there’s no time like the present. I just pray Mickey’s rekindled feelings for G are a form of temporary insanity at best. If Nigel finds out that they’re back together there’s no telling what he’ll do.

*

When I arrived at Rah’s house my boys told me all about me how Mickey disappeared with the baby last night. I haven’t talked to my girl since I couldn’t go to the party with she and Nellie on Friday. This is the fifth time I’ve called Mickey in the past hour and she refuses to pick up the phone. I know Nellie’s churching it all day with her boo so I haven’t even bothered trying to reach her. Mickey has truly lost her mind this time. From what I can tell Nigel doesn’t know about her and G’s recent family plans. I don’t want him to find out the wrong way nor do I want to be the one to tell him. Hopefully I can convince Mickey to change her mind and there’ll be no need for the confession.

By the time we get to Sunset Boulevard it’s packed with fly-ass whips and people walking around. I didn’t know they were rolling like this on a Sunday night. Maybe it’s just because of the holiday tomorrow. The only homework I have due on Tuesday is our Columbus Day history report. When is Mrs. Peterson going to give up and retire? It should be illegal to have the meanest History teacher and the most evil English teacher in the same semester.

“Nigel, Rah. What’s up?” the tatted brother behind the counter says. There are mirrors lining each of the four walls allowing spectators to see the process from various angles.

Three local college girls watch as he puts a butterfly on the lower back of their friend, traditionally referred to as a “tramp stamp”. I think it’s cute but I can see how it got that name.

“Nothing much, Julian,” Rah says, stepping into the shop ahead of us.

There are pictures of tattoos lining the mirrored walls. No piercings or jewelry like in the other spots up and down the block—Julian’s Ink Spot is solely about tattoos.

“This is our girl, Jayd.” Julian smiles my way and I return the gesture.

Rah approaches the station to check the progress of Julian’s current client. Apparently they had an appointment. Rah hates when his time is wasted.

“What are we working on today?” Julian asks, passing the girl in the chair a hand mirror. She looks at her reflection and smiles.

“The Adinkra symbol, Akoben, on our forearms,” Nigel says, flexing his tight arms for all to see. “It’s our new business logo.”

The girls perk up at Nigel’s muscular display. Noticing his latest fans, Nigel winks at the girls and tightens his pose.

“Calm down,” I say, causing Rah to chuckle. Nigel throws me a look and smiles. My boy knows he’s out of line.

The girls look at me and I glare back. I could care less who they think they are. I hate it when chicks stunt a dude I’m with if they don’t know our relationship status. It’s just plain disrespectful.

“That’s beautiful,” I say, admiring the symbol drawn on the front cover of Rah’s beats and rhymes notebook. “What does it mean?”

“It means vigilant warrior,” Rah’s says, tracing the figure with his right index finger. “It represents the horn used to call warriors to battle.”

“I love it,” I say, following his movement. “It reminds me of our family veve,” I say, feeling the cool brass emblem against my skin. I touch my left shoulder where my flesh is still tingling from my earlier vision.

“Jayd, I think it’s time you got some ink on that smooth skin of yours. And don’t worry about the cost; it’s on me,” Nigel says, like it’s as easy as that.

My dream a little while ago may have been a premonition. Mama’s always saying I should pay closer attention to my dreams. Before I went to sleep I sought an answer on how to beat my great-grandfather in order to defeat Esmeralda’s plan. This might be the response I was looking for. I look down at my left shoulder and examine the same spot where Califia and the other captives were burned. The heat rises in my body indicating to me that I’m on the right path.

“Funny thing is I had a dream about getting branded. I guess if I got one it would be of this,” I say, pulling the charm out of my shirt and showing it to Nigel.

Mickey and Sandy are the only girls I know with tattoos. Misty wanted one back in the day but we were too young. Actually, we’re still too young but Julian’s a client of theirs and looks the other way when bartering for herb.

“It would be nice to see your wild side come out for a change,” Rah says, touching my bare arm with the back of his hand. He still gives me the chills but the vibe isn’t as strong as it once was.

I stare at my friends, excited about the challenge. Am I really about to do this?

“I’m in,” I say before I can chicken out. My boys aren’t going to let me go back on my word.

“All right then,” Julian says, stripping down the plastic covering on his empty chair. He replaces the cover and ushers me to sit down. “Ladies first.”

Nigel and Rah take a seat in one of the chairs along the wall with a clear view of the session. I can’t believe I’m doing this. It feels like everything’s changing: my friends, my powers, and now my body. When are things going to go back to the way they were?

“I’ll take the symbol and trace it,” Julian says, reaching for my eleke.

“No,” I say, protecting my veve. “I’ll draw it myself.”

“No problem,” Julian says, passing me a pen and pad.

“Hey, Jayd. You remember when me and Rah got our first tat last year?” Nigel asks, eyeing the girls as they leave the shop. He has enough chick problems as it is. “You were afraid it was going to come to life like in that one
Tales from the Crypt
episode with Heavy D.”

“R.I.P. to a legend,” Rah says. Heavy D was on of his favorite old school artists.

“Yeah, I do,” I say, laughing at my boys. “That’s not the image I need in my head at the moment, Nigel, but thanks,” I say, passing my best version of the image to Julian.

“My bad, girl,” Nigel says, laughing at my hesitation. “You got this.”

Julian makes a copy of the image, drenches the paper in some sort of solution and places it on my left shoulder. As soon as the wet paper touches my skin my nerves calm and I feel good about my decision.

“That’s it, Jayd. Deep breath in, deep breath out,” Rah says like he’s some sort of tattoo guru. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does.” The tingling sensation of the veve print gives me a surge of physical and spiritual energy I couldn’t have anticipated.

“Are you ready?” Julian asks, inadvertently showcasing his tongue ring. This dude is tatted and pierced up.

“Yes, I am.” I lean forward in the chair and breathe deeply, allowing Califia’s stories to take over my thoughts.

The needle’s initial contact with my skin is hot and prickly. I follow Rah’s advice and continue my breathing exercises but can’t ignore the nuisance on my shoulder.

“
Relax into it, my child. It’ll be over soon. Then, you’ll have a beautiful symbol of your lineage to carry with you always, scaring the right people straight,
” Califia says into my mind. My great ancestor’s presence calms my anxiety. Once I surrender to the process the buzzing sound of the tattoo gun makes me forget all about the slight pain.

“That’s fresh,” Nigel says, eyeing my ink but I’m too relaxed to care. I’ll wait until it’s all over before checking it out. I know the veve will be perfect.

“Done,” Julian says, spraying my shoulder down with the same anti-bacterial solution he used to clean the spot a moment ago.

“You were out like a light,” Rah says.