woman. And from everything youâve told me about Esmeralda, she canât be any good.â Heâs got that right. Years ago, I used to tell Rah all about my lineage while we waited for the city bus together. Heâs always been a good listener, sometimes too good.
âI know. Iâm going to ask my mom more about Esmeraldaâs powers when I get to her house,â I say as we drive away from South Bay High. Though Iâm ready to grub, I feel like that broadâs still looking at me with her creepy blue eyes. I swear she put something on me. I just donât know what yet. But Iâm going to find out. I brought my spirit notebook with me and I plan to take very good notes from my talk with my mom and compare them with the spirit book when I get home on Sunday. Iâm going to figure out a way to beat Esmeralda at her own game without getting caught in the crossfire, and hopefully without Mama finding out.
5
Things Fall Apart
âYou mustâve done something wrong/ Why you canât find where you belong?â
âBOB MARLEY
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A fter we grab a not-so-quick bite to eat, Rah drops me off at my momâs house. Itâs Friday, and I know heâs got clients to hustle for, not to mention a girl to tend to. He also has to pick Kamal up from the YMCA and take him to their grandmotherâs house in Compton to spend the night. Weâll have to wait until tomorrow nightâs session to see each other, unless he visits me at work tomorrow, which would be a welcomed surprise.
âHey Mom, Iâm here,â I yell as I close the front door behind me. The last thing I want is for her to think itâs an intruder and grab the little twenty-two she keeps handy. A girl can never be too safe, especially when she lives alone.
âHey baby. Iâm glad you got a ride. How was school?â she yells back through the closed bathroom door. The floral scent of my momâs Caress shower gel fills the small apartment, overwhelming even the fragrant incense burning in the corner. My momâs got Anita Baker playing in the background as she prepares for another date with Karl, I assume.
âSchool was school,â I say, plopping onto the small sofa and putting my bags down on the floor beside me. After the turkey burger with cheese, fries and strawberry milkshake I just threw back, Iâm too full to move much further. âHow was tennis?â
âIt was worth getting off work early for. We had a ballâno pun intended,â she says, leaving the bathroom wrapped in a towel with her shower cap on her head. âHeâs taking me to El Choloâs tonight for dinner. Not the one in Santa Monica, the one in LA, where they have the best margaritas.â From my momâs excitement, Iâd think this was her first date ever.
âWell, bring me back some chicken nachos if you can remember after sipping on all of that tequila, por favor,â I say, teasing her. Margaritas are her and my Aunt Vivicaâs favorite drink.
âSo, what are you up to tonight? Big plans with Rah?â she asks, rubbing her Jergenâs lotion into her already smooth skin as the warm light from the setting sun creeps through her second story window, making her ebony skin shimmer. As she props her leg up on the dining room chair, I notice her legs and armpits are freshly shaved. I avoid shaving both at all costs. Luckily, Iâm not that hairy.
âWhy do you shave when you know the hairs are going to grow back?â This is one of many ongoing debates between my mom and myself. Out of all the things I do that get on her nerves, me not shaving is the one that drives her especially crazy.
âBecause I like to be smooth, unlike you, Sasquatch. I swear, sometimes I wonder if weâre related at all,â she says, leaving the bottle of lotion on the table and heading back to her room to get dressed. âBesides, Jayd, men donât like hairy women.