Free Hustlin' by L. Divine Page B

Califia via Mr. Adewale’s college paper. I tried to catch up with Ms. Toni, but she was out of her office. She’s been busy with the drama festival and her regular duties as ASB advisor. But we have to talk soon. I have a lot to catch up with her about. I haven’t talked to her about Mickey or Rah in a while and I could use some of her wisdom.
    â€œPlease check your bag at the front desk,” the ancient librarian says to me as I pass by her station.
    â€œSince when do we have to leave our backpacks?” I notice the new set of cabinets behind the librarian’s counter. There are only a handful of students present and all of the computers are available, so I should be able to get done pretty quickly. I just want to print out whatever I can find on the web. I’ll finish my research and bibliography before the week is out. Our papers are due the last week of school, and that’s only two weeks away. Time sure does fly when I’m procrastinating.
    â€œSince my books, magazines, and other things are starting to come up missing.”
    The way she looks at me tells me she thinks I might be one of the kleptomaniacs. As much as I’m in here, I could jack her ass, but that ain’t how I roll.
    â€œPlease take a number and leave your bag in the corresponding cubby. You can take your books out and take them with you while you work, if need be.”
    Ain’t this some shit? I’m already down to the last ten minutes and I don’t want to waste anymore time.
    I take a seat at the computer closest to the cubby where my bag is. If there are kleptos on the loose, I don’t want them getting my stuff either, especially not my charm bags and other spiritual items. Not that anyone would know what to do with them. But just the thought of someone touching my personal items bugs the hell out of me.
    I take Mr. Adewale’s card out of my purse and type in the web address listed for his graduate school. He must be hella smart to get a master’s degree from the University of West LA. I hear they have a rigorous academic program. When his page pops up, a list of every publication he’s written appears on the side of the page.
    Fine and talented—just how I like my men, I think to myself as I search his page. The Califia paper is second to last in the long list of titles. I’ll just print this out and read it later. Before I open the twenty-five page document, I notice the title “Voodoo Vixens” among the forty-plus documents and click on it.
    â€œWhat the hell?” I scroll the document quickly, recognizing some of the names from our spirit book at home, Maman Marie’s name included. “What does he know about my lineage and why is he calling my great-grandmother a vixen?” Now I’m going to have to break out five dollars to print both documents, but I have a feeling it’ll be worth it.
    â€œThere’s the warning bell,” the librarian says, her shrill voice slicing the quiet air. “Please don’t forget to claim your bags before exiting the building.” The printer releases the pages on her side of the counter. Noticing the content of my papers, her eyebrows rise and she looks a few shades whiter than she did when I walked in. I wonder if campus gossip reaches the ears of the librarian too?
    â€œHow much do I owe you?” I ask, taking my wallet out of my Lucky purse and giving her my number for my bag’s freedom. She looks at me like she’s afraid to speak and turns around to gather my backpack and print outs.
    â€œIt’ll be five dollars, young lady.” Instead of handing me my items, she places them on the counter in front of me. Now, any other time she would have given it directly to me, but I guess she’s afraid to touch me now. And that’s just fine with me. Mama doesn’t like too many folks touching us anyway. She says everyone’s ashe isn’t so easy to wash off.
    â€œThank