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Authors: M. LaVora Perry

BOOK: Taneesha Never Disparaging
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“Don't think it's over! I'll be back for you.” The older girl spat her words at me through clenched teeth.
I skittered by her like a roach caught in light, running from a can of Raid. Carli followed behind me.
When I passed the older girl, she growled in my ear so that only I heard her. “No little kid's going to talk to
me
like that!”
Carli and I leaped in the minivan's beige, middle-row seats.
“Hey, you girls all right? You're huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf.” Mama chuckled a little. Wearing her black coat and earmuffs, she eased the minivan into the driving lane. “Why are you so out of breath?”
I bucked my eyes at Carli and held my index finger to my lips.
Carli mouthed, “
Why not
?!” flumped her back onto her seat, and pressed her lips together as if that pushed her words inside.
“We—we were just—we were—rushing to get in the van!” Realizing that I probably sounded like I was freaking out, which I was, I took a breath and slowed down. “I guess that tired us out.”
“Really? You girls are young. Don't scare me saying you poop-out that fast. You should be in better shape than that.”
Please, no Officer HP today.
“We're all right, Mama. We were walking pretty fast before you pulled up.”
Everything that had just happened swirled in my head. I caught Mama's eye in the rearview mirror.
“You sure you're all right, honey? You look kind of sick. We better take your temperature when we get home.”
“I'm okay. Just thinking about all the homework I have to do, that's all.” I sighed. I wanted to tell my mother what was going on. But instead, I said, “Oh. I gave my campaign speech today. For class president.”
“Yeah? How'd it go?”
“She did a great job,” sighed Carli.
“Carli helped a lot,” I mumbled.
“Well, neither one of you sound like it. You sound like the living dead.”
I couldn't even manage a fake laugh at Mama's joke. Fear swallowed me in one big gulp.
“Who was that girl you were talking to?”
“Hunh?”
“That girl you were talking to when I pulled up. Who was she?”
“Oh, her?” I gave Carli a
“Now what?!”
look.
She shrugged her shoulders and pressed her lips tighter.
“Who was she, honey?”
“Um, she… she…I…I…I dropped a pencil sharpener out of my pocket!” I blurted. “She
picked it up. She was just giving it back to me.”
The van had stopped at a red light. In the mirror, Mama looked into my eyes—obviously buying none my story.
The minivan's walls squeezed in from all sides, suffocating me. I waited for my mother's next question. It never came.
I exhaled.
“Well, I finagled a few hours off today,” Mama said, after a few minutes. “One of the nurses switched with me. I have to come in early tomorrow to make up for it, though.”
I barely heard her. The older girl's threat throbbed in my head:
“I'll be back for you!”
I felt like the scared little mouse I once saw cornered by a boa constrictor at the zoo.
You wouldn't be in this mess if you had kept your big mouth shut!
Snake snack. That's me.
 
“Taneesha, you've
got
to tell your parents!” whispered Carli, sitting on the living room floor with me at my house while we pretended to study. I'd changed into jeans, a grey sweatshirt, and my lavender bunny slippers. Carli still had on her
school clothes—white sweater, navy pants.
“Okay. Okay. You're right. I'll tell them tonight.”
“Why don't we just do it now? While I'm here? This is serious. That girl pushed you into the street! You could have gotten run over! She was going to
hit
you!”
“I don't want to tell them yet, Carli. But I will tonight. Promise. Can you do me one last favor?”
“What?”
“I'll call you after I talk to my parents. Can you wait until then to tell your father?”
“Taneesha!”
“Please, Carli. I'm going to tell them tonight, I swear. I just don't want them to find out from your father first.”
“You'll call me?”
“Promise.”
“All right.”
Now things were even more complicated. My parents would want to know why I hadn't told them about the girl before. I didn't know what I'd say to them but I knew Carli was right. I had to say something.
The rest of the day came and went like always.
Mr. Flanagan picked up Carli. My parents and I ate dinner. Everything was the same as usual except for the fact that all I could think about was how tomorrow that girl might stomp the life out of me with her army tank boots.
CHAPTER 17
INVISIBLE, COZY BLANKET
“TANEESHA IMANI BEY-ROSS! PLEASE COME DOWNSTAIRS!”
I flinched. I'd been in my bedroom laying out clothes for tomorrow and I knew that Mama screeching my whole name could only mean trouble.
I'd planned to tell my parents everything as soon as I finished getting my clothes together. Really. I had. But now I had a sick feeling that I'd put the conversation off a little too long.
Moments later, I stood in the living room facing them. They sat on the edge of the green couch—Mama in a red pullover and jeans, Daddy
in a white shirt and navy pants, grinding his teeth.
“Have a seat,” he said, patting the space between him and Mama while the veins on the side of his temples bulged.
I did not like the vibe in that room at all. If I sat on that couch, I'd be trapped between them.
“That's okay. I'll stand.”
“Taneesha, honey—” Mama began. Even though her face seemed a little softer than Daddy's, her eyes scanned me like a lie detector. “—is there something you want to tell us?”
I glanced around, up and down, as if I'd find the answer to that question on the ceiling or something.
“Something I want to tell you? Like what?”
“Anything unusual happen after school?” Daddy asked through his teeth.
“Unusual?”
I could have sworn I heard one of Daddy's molars crack.
“Taneesha, Carli's father just called,” he said, matter-of-factly. “According to him, an older girl's been threatening you after school. Why didn't you tell us?” With this question, his edginess dissolved
and the only thing left on his face was concern—and maybe disappointment.
Now the couch seemed safe. I flopped down between them with a huff.
“Carli was supposed to wait.”
“What?” asked Daddy, sounding confused.
“I told her I was going to tell you myself. She was supposed to wait before she said anything to her father.”
I was glad to be able to pin some blame off me.
“Well, that's beside the point, Taneesha,” said Daddy, annoyed. “It's a good thing Carli told. Now please explain what's going on.”
“Please honey. Why didn't you tell us?” Mama sounded so pitiful you'd have thought everything was her fault. “We want to help,” she said.
Guilt tugged at me.
I didn't want to say anything to hurt my parent's feelings.
But, then again, I didn't want to hear another lecture either—and that was always a possibility with them, no matter how touchy-feely they were acting at that moment. Plus, hadn't they both just asked why I didn't tell them what was
going on? How could they even
think
a crazy question like that?
“Why didn't I tell you? I couldn't because—”
“What do you mean, you
couldn't
, Taneesha?” Mama butted in.
There she goes—
again.
“I mean, it's not like I can just
talk
to you and Daddy—”
“What's
that
supposed to mean?”
There
he
goes again.
“You talk to us all the time,” Mama said.
“No, Mama,
you
talk—”
“Of, course. I'm your mother. Mothers and daughters
should
talk.”
“And
Daddy
talks.”
“I'm your father. Fathers and daughters should talk, too.”
“But—”
“But what?!” they
both
butted in,
dagnamit
!
“YOU DON'T
LISTEN
! I CAN'T EVEN TALK TO YOU RIGHT NOW. AND WHENEVER YOU
DO
LET ME GET A WORD IN, NO MATTER WHAT'S HAPPENING, YOU TELL ME THE SAME THING—
CHANT
! I KNEW THAT'S WHAT YOU'D SAY! SO WHY BOTHER TELLING YOU?
“AND ANYWAY, I
HAVE
BEEN CHANTING.
ON MY OWN.
EVEN WITHOUT YOU
FORCING
ME TO! HAH! THAT'S IT, RIGHT? THAT'S
ALL
I GOT TO DO! AND I'M
DOING
IT!
SO I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!
”
I shlumped my back against the couch, panting.
My parents didn't say anything.
I couldn't tell if they were mad or what.
We sat there like that for a long time. I didn't look at them. My shoulders sagged. I kept my eyes on my hands—they drooped over my thighs like empty gloves.
“Well, Taneesha,” Mama said,
finally
, “it seems like you have things under control.”
Hey. She didn't sound mad.
“But—” Daddy began.
He was only getting one word in; still, I noticed he didn't use his angry voice to say it.
Strange.
“
And
,” Mama barreled over Daddy, “your father and I appreciate your honesty.”
I noticed how Mama said each word extra slowly—as if she thought I'd break apart if she spoke normally. I started thinking that maybe she thought I was cracking up or something.
Maybe they weren't just being nice. Maybe they were afraid. Afraid they had a daughter with a few chocolate chips missing from her cookie.
“Our concern is, however,” Mama said, “that this girl sounds like she might hurt you, Taneesha. At least that's the way Carli described her.”
Now
I got it. They
were
scared. They were afraid I'd be hurt.
Boy, was I lucky. I could have been on lockdown
for life
the way I'd just talked to them.
I watched them, though. I had to make sure they stayed level-headed. I knew those two; they could switch up on me fast.
“We can't just let you get hurt, Taneesha,” Mama said.
“I don't want to get hurt either.”
That was true. I saw an opening. A chance to explain myself more without screaming—and risking my parents ditching the understandingparent bit.
“But—” I said.
“Good,” said Mama. “I'm glad we have a point we all agree on. That being the case, why don't I come up to the school tomorrow? Just to check out everything and—”
My palms and underarms got sweaty. I
had
to make them see the spot I was in.
“Mama, you know what? I want you to come. That girl said she'd beat me up and I believe her. But I'm afraid if she gets mad at me because I told on her, she'll do something even worse. You'll be at work then. Kids get jumped after school all the time. Their parents aren't there or anything.”
I paused, hoping I could somehow make a thing happen that probably wouldn't. I ducked my head, squeenched my eyebrows, and I peeked up at my mother. Batting my eyes like a puppy, I made the saddest face I could without practicing in a mirror.
“Mama, can you pick me up every day?”
She looked uncomfortable. Guilty, maybe.
“No, honey,” she said, softy. “I can't do that. I don't have that kind of schedule.”
“I didn't think so.”
See.
I knew they couldn't help. Not really.
You're on your own, Taneesha.
“Well, if the situation's that bad,” Daddy's voice crashed in like a wrecking ball, “then that
girl needs serious help. Maybe she should be suspended or expelled or get counseling or something. I don't care what's going on. We can't just have her bullying you and do nothing about it.”
Hearing Macho Man, I perked up. Maybe I
would
live to see sixth grade. Lately, I was beginning to wonder about that.
“Your father's right, Taneesha. We'll get the principal involved, her parents, whatever's necessary. But we've got to do something, honey. We have to protect you. That's our job.”
In that moment, an invisible, cozy blanket wrapped around me and I realized something: It was true, I had to face life on my own. But I wasn't
alone
. Even when my parents weren't with me, their love was. And it always would be.
“Tell you what,” said Mama, “how about we chant? Oops!” She slapped her hands over her mouth. “That one slipped out, didn't it?”
We all laughed.
“That's okay, Mama. I was thinking the same thing. But first I want to read something.”
 
I sat in the center chair in front of the altar with my parents sitting on either side of me. In the
Gosho lying opened on the altar table, I'd found the page I wanted. I read:
Bodhisattva Never Disparaging was for many years cursed and humiliated, beaten with sticks and staves, and pelted with tiles and stones by countless people because he honored them by uttering…: “I have profound reverence for you, I would never dare treat you with disparagement or arrogance. Why? Because you are all practicing the bodhisattva way and are certain to attain Buddhahood” … Those who belittled and cursed Never Disparaging acted that way at first, but later they deeply respected him.

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