Cold As Ice (8 page)

“I think she's getting the idea,” Jeremy says, kissing me again but this time on the lips. Jeremy hasn't mentioned his “I love you” slip from last weekend, but I want him to know I feel the same way. When I'm ready, I'll say it back to him, but now is not the time or place.

“Okay,” Cameron says, equally annoyed as her homegirl. “That's enough, you two. Time is money.” She's got that right, and time is also my ass if I get home too late, so we'd better begin. Mama's already pissed that I've cut back my weekday hours at Netta's so I can participate in this study group, especially after I begged them to let me work there. If I keep it up, Mama's going to get fed up, and that won't be a good thing for me at all. I don't want to hear her mouth any more than the earful I'm getting for not being there. But tonight I'm burning the midnight oil if need be, repercussions be damned. I just hope Mama understands.

B
y the time I make it back to Compton, it's well after ten. I know it's past my curfew, but I really enjoyed the healthy arguing and intellectual stimulation this evening. During class is one thing, where the teacher's in control of who gets to showcase his or her brilliance or lack thereof. But in a club our peers are the ultimate judges. It was like being surrounded by a bunch of young professors, each with his or her own theory about everything, and for the first time I was officially included in that group. By the time I left, to the rest of the students it was still too early to throw in the towel, but to my grandmother, anything after nine for me is ass-kicking time.

I park my mom's car across the street and choose to lock the door from the inside rather than arm the alarm like I usually do, just in case Mama's already sleeping. I'd rather risk someone breaking into the ride than Mama hearing me come in late, if I can avoid it. When I talked to her earlier she sounded tired. Hopefully, she gave in to her exhaustion, and I can get inside without any complications.

“Have you completely lost your mind, girl?” Mama says as soon as I open the back door, scaring me like the ancestors used to do when I was a child. Even for ghosts, they weren't as sneaky as Mama. I should've known she'd be up waiting for me. How do I tell her I lost complete track of time studying and that turning off my phone was mandatory?

“You can't tell me shit, Jayd, because I know you know better than that,” she says, snatching the thought right out of my mind. At least other teenagers get a minute to make up a reasonable lie before getting caught. No such luck in this house. “You're getting to be too much like your mother for me.”

“Mama, it's not what you think,” I say, stepping fully into the kitchen and shutting the door behind me. Lexi—Mama's German shepherd gatekeeper—follows me inside to witness the tongue thrashing she knows is coming. She may be the canine, but I'm the one in the doghouse right about now. Daddy and Jay are probably already in bed watching television before nodding off, and Bryan's at his night gig where he hosts a cable radio show. My other uncles are who knows where, and I'm glad for it. It's always embarrassing when one of the men witnesses Mama cussing me out.

Before I can continue with my defense, Mama cuts me off. I can feel the heat in her head rise, and because she's so hot, Mama can't feel my mother's powers overcome my own, allowing me into Mama's head.

“Jayd, you've got to get back on point.” Mama's weary green eyes are bright red with anger. I look past her rage and into her mind's eye, hearing the concern in its voice for my safety and spiritual well-being. She's worried I'm turning out to be just like my mother—staying out late, running with a group of friends she doesn't know, and getting too close to my boyfriend. At the rate her blood is pumping, Mama needs to calm down. All these emotions aren't good for her health. I attempt to communicate calming thoughts to her, but her mind is resistant to my persuasion. Mama's still too pissed to hear me inside; my young talents can't manipulate her mind.

“We have a lot of work to do, and I don't have time for your teenage foolishness, you hear me?” I nod my head in submission, and Mama rises from the kitchen table and goes into the room we share. I feel bad for making Mama worry, but I think her unease is more out of control than of real concern for my safety. I hope she didn't catch that one. Thank God Mama's spiritual wi-fi isn't as on point as it normally is, or I'd probably get slapped for that last thought.

I walk into the room and see Mama stripping my bed down to the mattress. Without another word, she walks past me and into the living room, throwing my covers and sheets onto the couch. I look at her with tears in my eyes and know better than to contest. Her head is completely cool now, and her mind made up. This isn't the first time Mama's put me on the couch, and I'm sure it won't be the last. Luckily, I'm used to sleeping on my mom's couch during the weekend, but I will miss my twin-size bed tonight. I'm not looking forward to the feel of the plastic-covered couch sticking to my arms. Every time I try to readjust my covers around my body on that damn thing, they slide all over the place, leaving me out in the cold. But what can I do? Mama can be as cold as ice when she wants to be, and this is obviously one of those times. It's after eleven, and I need my sleep. I'll worry about getting back in Mama's “top faves” tomorrow.

 

“There she goes again. Mmm-mmm-mmm. What a waste of talent,” one of the church ladies says as I walk down the aisle. With my speech in hand, I'm ready to give the sermon. But instead of walking toward the pulpit, I'm moving away from it toward the door. I look around on my way out and see Mama and my mom crying under black veils as if they're at a funeral, which is the only reason I can imagine they would be in church. Who died, and why am I here?

“You know, they say she was a good girl until that boy came into her life, and then it was all over.”

“Just like her mama before her and her great-grandmother with that white lover on the side. Those Williams women are always going after the wrong men,” another woman chimes in. “At least her grandmother had the good sense to marry a pastor—too bad for him.”

“Too bad for little Miss Know-it-All,” one of the gossipers hisses. “But that's what you get when you think you're grown at an early age. You catch an early death.” I stop in the aisle and look at the two women still running their mouths, completely ignoring my existence. I backtrack to where my mom and Mama are seated, begging for some attention from them, but nothing. What the hell is going on here?

“Jayd, it's time,” a voice from outside the church says to me, but I'm not ready to go—not until they acknowledge I'm here. It can't be my funeral, because I'm up and walking, or am I? Ignoring the voice's plea, I run back to the pulpit and look inside the open casket. I have never understood funerals like these where you can see the body all made up, and this corpse is especially disturbing—it's me with a smile plastered on my face. I try to scream, but I can't. Tears stream down my face as I reach inside the casket, touching my cold, lifeless hand. A tear drops from my chin to my corpse's cheek, causing her eyes to open. While they stare back at me, I notice they are no longer brown but green like all the other women in my lineage before me. What the hell?

 

“Jayd, it's time to get up,” my uncle Bryan says, snapping me out of my dream. “And hurry up because I need you to drop me off at the bus station on your way to school. I'll be outside when you're ready.” Damn, will he ever get his van fixed? And when did I become his personal taxi? I've got to put an end to his ride-mooching soon.

“I'm up,” I say, placing my right foot on the carpet first and then the other, pushing the covers completely off me, allowing the morning air do its job waking me. Summer's less than three months away, and as far as I'm concerned, it can't come soon enough.

After a few moments of settling into this reality—post my disturbing fantasy world—I quietly make my way to Mama's bedroom and open the door. I still can't believe Mama made me sleep on the couch for coming home late from a study session. I seize today's wardrobe from the hangers on the back of the door and gently step back into the hallway, closing Mama's door behind me. Someone's already in the bathroom ahead of me this morning, which means it's not going to be a good day. I can handle Bryan and Jay going in before me because they clean up after themselves, but the rest of the fools in this house are worse than pigs in a sty.

I open the door to Daddy's room, trying not to disturb his and Jay's sleep while I retrieve my toiletries and other necessities out of the Hefty bags that double as my dresser drawers in their smallest closet. It must be nice to sleep until twenty minutes before the school bell rings. I honestly don't know what time Daddy wakes up, but it's not before me. Bryan and I are the early risers in this house.

Whoever's in the bathroom now has a hangover, just got home, or some of both. I'm so sick of my trifling-ass uncles, I don't know what to do.

The bathroom door opens as I exit Daddy's room, revealing the early-morning culprit. Everyone knows I get first dibs on the bathroom in the morning because I have to be at school—not that my uncles respect me much, but Mama laid down that law years ago, and it's been solid ever since.

My uncle Kurtis—the nastiest one of them all and also the biggest jerk—walks out of the steamy mess he left behind, smiling down sinisterly at me. I pass him by in the cramped hallway and brace myself for the work to be done. Cleaning up after a grown man is not the makings of a good morning.

“Damn, Kurtis. Will you ever learn how to put the shower curtain inside the tub while the water's running? It's common sense.” I grab one of the funky towels in the overstuffed laundry basket and wipe the pool of water off the bathroom floor. This is why I make it a point to get in the bathroom before any of these fools—especially my Uncle Kurtis. Jayd Jackson is nobody's maid.

“Shut up and stop talking to me like you want to get socked in the mouth.” I look at this big grown-ass fool and shake my head. I know better than to keep talking, but some days it's just too much for a sister to bear, living with all these men. If I learned how to clean from Mama, he should know better, too.

“Don't think I'm scared of you, punk, because I'm not,” I say, attempting to close the bathroom door, but his big foot blocks my escape from the unexpected morning brawl.

“Go to hell, Jayd,” my uncle says, attempting to get back inside, but I'm not budging. “You think you're better than a regular nigga, but you ain't no better than nobody.”

“You go to hell!” I say, smashing Kurtis's foot in the door, but it's no use. His six-foot-five frame towers over my five-foot self any day. Finally forcing his way inside, Kurtis pushes me hard, and I push him right back, ready to throw down with him if need be. I haven't had to fight one of my uncles in years, but I haven't forgotten how.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Mama asks, coming out of her room and scaring us both. I should've been in and out of the shower by now. This bull has got to change, and now. Fighting with my uncle is not only a waste of my time but of my energy, too. I'm already tired from sleeping on the couch, and that, coupled with my regular Friday quizzes and other work, makes me even more irritated with my faulty start this morning.

“I can't do this anymore!” I yell at no one in particular. “I'm tired of fighting with these grown-ass fools.” I look directly at Kurtis, who looks like he wants to pounce on me. I wish he would. I'm so mad I'd bite the shit out of him in a minute.

“Little girl, you had better watch your tone and your language in my house,” Mama says, her green eyes glowing with rage.

“Mama, how come you let Kurtis get away with being rude in your house, and I can't even study without getting reprimanded? It's not fair,” I say, but I can tell by the hard look in Mama's eyes that she couldn't care less about my version of fair.

“I'm going to say this only one time, Jayd,” Mama says in a low voice that gives me goose bumps. “As long as you live in this house, don't you ever curse at your elders—period.”

“He's not my elder,” I say, pointing at my stupid uncle, who's standing there with a smug look on his face. Mama always lets the boys get away with shit.

“In this house, Kurtis is still your uncle, and that means something, Jayd, no matter how foolish he may act.”

Kurtis looks at Mama and laughs. Why do I even bother? They'll never get it, and I'm tired of trying to explain myself to them. For the first time this morning, my thoughts are calm, and I know just what to do to keep myself sane.

“I'm going to live with my mom.” Did I just say that out loud? Apparently so, because Mama's eyes are redder than ever, but there's no taking the words back.

“You're not two, Jayd. Your little temper tantrum will get you nowhere you want to be, girl. Especially not with me.” Mama shifts her weight from her right foot to her left and places her hands firmly on her full hips. Even in her cotton robe I can see how shapely she is. Mama's only a few inches taller than me, but that's all she needs to make me feel tiny in her presence.

“Jayd's become an ornery little wench, hasn't she, Lynn Mae? I guess because she's turning seventeen next week, she thinks she's grown now,” Daddy says from his room. If I weren't so hurt by his bold words, I'd be shocked by his addition to the early-morning argument. At least he'll probably withdraw his invitation for me to speak at his church. I'm sure wenches don't give Easter Sunday sermons.

“I have to get to school before I'm late,” I say, hoping she'll finally let me go. I can't take any more of their badgering. Mama looks into my eyes as hers take on an emerald glow of their own. Holding on to the visual lock, I remember my mom's dramatic departure from Mama's house as a teenager and her subsequent loss of powers—I learned this through Mama's vision. The last time I relived this moment, I lost my sight just like my mom. But it's different with me. I'm not leaving Mama because I don't love my skills; I need to leave to save myself, and that's a chance I'm willing to take, if my mom's on board with it.

“I already told you to watch your tone, girl,” Mama says, visibly shaken by this ugly incident. How did this happen?

“Yeah, Jayd, watch your tone.” Kurtis moves out of my way. I prepare to finally shut the door, ready to take a quick shower and bolt out the door, but Mama looks like she has something else to say, and I know better than to close the door on her.

“This isn't over, Jayd.” Mama turns around and goes back in her room, closing the door behind her. I wish I could follow her and apologize, but I don't have time for that, and besides, none of this is my fault. At this rate I'll barely make it on time, and the last thing I want is to be late for my first class with Mr. Adewale.