Down by Law (8 page)

 

“I
told you not to do that.” Yvette handed me a plastic bag filled with ice. I smacked it away and ice scattered all over the peeling linoleum floor.

She placed the baby in her bassinet and then curled up next to me in bed. For once, we were the only three in the room. Yvette leaned into my ear and whispered, “Told you to forget Stick.”

I sighed and my swollen eyes soaked in the five twin-sized beds and piles of clothes in here. This was hell. It had to be. There was no TV. No posters. One white and one red bedsheet tacked over the window. Pockets of holes punched in the walls. And dirty stuffed animals everywhere.

“I wish you had listened to me.” Yvette looked over her shoulder at me and shook her head. “You just straight lost it. Totally tripped.”

“So? And? I'm not no sucka, and unlike you, they ain't 'bout to talk to me any kind of way and treat me crazy; 'cause I will bring the noise. And anyway, I will not let no ho disrespect me. Aunt or no aunt.”

“You need to learn how to shut up sometimes.”

“And you need to learn to speak up. If anything, you should've been helpin' me.”

“Help you? And get me
annnnd
my baby put out. We don't have nowhere else to go! This is it for me!”

“How they gon' all jump me? It shoulda been a fair one.”

Her eyes grew wide. “How you figure that? You slaughtered Stick in the face wit' a bottle!”

“So?! And?! That wasn't no reason for Uncle Chuck to run in there and snatch me by the back of my neck and hold me down. All so Stick could bolo my face.”

I carried on, “Then you just stand there lookin' stupid. And Nana.” I shuddered, suckin' up snot. “She gon' whip me with an extension cord. What kind of grandmother does that?! Huh? All these welts on my legs. That fat tramp. I hope when she goes outside she gets flattened by a truck. Old slut. That's why my daddy hated her, and me too! Wait till I tell Queenie!”

“Queenie don't care!”

“Yes, she does!”

“No, she doesn't and you know it, and she ain't comin' back. So you may as well stop lookin' for her.”

If my mouth wasn't sore, I woulda cussed Yvette out like the punk broad she was, but I let it go and lay there feelin' like somebody had sliced opened my heart and pissed on the inside.

A few minutes into feeling sorry for myself, Nana stormed into the bedroom. Her bare brown feet slapped the floor with every step she took. She grunted and shoved a hand up on her wide hip. The plastic cap she had her Jheri curl tucked in rustled with her every movement. She folded her hands over her large and droopin' breasts and belted, “Being high yellow wit' good hair don't earn you no special privileges up in here.”

This fat tramp was stupid. “What?”

“Don't what me! Now, I don't know who you think you is, but you lucky I didn't beat you in the face with a beer bottle so you would know how it felt!”

Silence.

She carried on, “Obviously, you got this twisted: I'm not your drunk daddy or your missing mama. I don't owe you nothing and I don't have to put up with your foolishness. Now if you wanna be put outta here, end up in some lil group home, or find yourself dead right along there with Schooly, act a fool up in here again and watch what happens to you.”

She looked over at Yvette. “And you already know that you on your last whorin' behind leg. You better thank God that I told my son that I would help him and yo' mama out. Up there having babies. And if I find out that you was messin' wit' some old-tail man, I will call the cops on him, and he will be going to jail.”

More silence.

Nana carried on, “Now, Isis, I know your mama and daddy didn't have any rules, which is why you and your brothers ended up the way you did, but I got some. Rule number one: Every. Body. In here is outta the bed by seven a.m. Period.”

“Seven,” she snapped. “'Cause the only thing asleep after seven in the mornin' is junkies and whores.”

I looked at this old broad like she was nuts.

Nana frowned. “You look at me like that again and I'ma slap the hellfire from you.”

I turned away and twisted my lips.

“Rule number two: No stealin'. Period. Nothin' I hate more than a thief. You want somethin', then you better find you a lil job or a lil grind. 'Cause allowing you to live here—rent free—is all you gon' get from me. Understand?” She paused, as if she expected me to answer. “You testin' me?” she snapped.

I sucked my teeth but refused to answer.

“Answer me when I'm talkin' to you!” she screamed in my face. “You will respect me 'cause I'm not your lil girlfriend!”

“Do you hear me?!” she screamed.

I felt like taking it to her throat and puttin' a bolo right in her face.

Nana took a step closer to me. “Answer. Me.”

I did everything I could to hold back tears, but just as I went to say something, anything... they streamed down my face.

Nana sucked her teeth and shook her head at me. “After all the hell you raised up in here this morning, now you wanna cry?” She looked over at Yvette. “Help your cousin get herself together. And then y'all get in that kitchen and clean up that glass and wash that blood off my wall!”

 

N
inety degrees.

Sweltering hot.

School was out.

The sun was scorching er'thing and er'body in sight.

The Down South boys had completely taken over and half of Da Bricks was they trap houses.

People who'd lived here forever was movin' out by the busloads.

There was rumors going around that City Hall was trying to open a shopping complex over here, had scheduled Da Bricks for demolition, and would be relocatin' er'body.

Didn't really matter to me 'cause I felt like er'thing had already been knocked down. And besides, all I wanted to do was run away. But I couldn't think of nowhere to go, especially since I'd never been outside of Newark, unless riding through Irvington counted for something.

Queenie was still missin'.

Face was still in jail.

And although er'night I dreamed Schooly was alive, by mornin' I always remembered he was dead, and that it was sorta my fault.

My love for hip-hop was buried inside the black hole in my chest. And I hadn't heard no song nor seen no rap-daddy who made me want to reincarnate it.

All I could see from where I was sittin' on Nana's rusty fire escape overlooking the courtyard, was that I didn't have nothin' and it wasn't gon' change.

“How long you gon' be mad?” Yvette popped her lips, as she stuck her head through the window, interrupting my moment.

“God-lee,”
I sighed. “How long you gon' stay sweatin' me?”

“Munch and Cali keep asking me to ask you to please come outside. They miss you, and I do too. And anyway, whatchu mean, God-lee? And I'm not always sweatin' you. You just acting like a real creep right now. I understand that your brother died, but dang, did you die too?!”

“You better step off.”

“Why you gotta be mad at the world?”

“I'm not mad at the world. I just don't wanna be bothered wit' nobody. So like I said, step off. And, anyway, maybe I like it out here.” I rocked my neck.

“Lies.” She twisted her lips. “You know it ain't nothing out here but some fiends, them Down South boys and a few kids. And guess what?”

“What?”

“Guess who I saw noddin' out over by the Dumpster, the other day?”

“Who?”

“Stick.”

“Whoopty doo. Whatchu want, a cookie? You shoulda told her fat and stankin' mama since she always got somethin' to say, and see what she had to say about that.”

I could tell Yvette was tryna hold back a giggle. “I did tell her.”

“And what her big ass do but breathe heavy? 'Cause she can't run.”

A snicker slipped out. “You shoulda saw Nana tryin' to run. Man, I like to died! Her breasts was bouncing er'where.” Yvette couldn't hold it in any longer and now she was laughing so hard that she was crying. “Nana went behind that Dumpster, dragged Stick out by her hair, and beat her with a belt.”

Yvette sat down on the window sill and howled. She could barely breathe as she recapped what she thought were the funniest parts of what happened to Stick. “Yoooooo, you shoulda seen it.”

Blank. Stare.

Was she serious? No. She. Could. Not. Be. Serious. Did she really think we was about to toss it up like best friends? She could miss me wit' that. “Girl, boo,” I snapped. “You really think I wanna hear about Stick? Puhlease. You already know what time it is. Dismissed.”

Yvette looked toward the ceiling and fluttered her lashes. “Oh, I see how this is gon' go. You gon' be mad forever.” She yawned. “That pissed-off routine is 'bout to get real tired wit' me.”

“Well, then step off and get you some rest 'cause I'ma be mad 'til I feel like bein' glad. So it's no need for you to be all in my grill, tryna act like we homegirls again. 'Cause we're not.”

“Dang! Watz yo' dealie-o, yo? Why you all of a sudden actin' like you crazy?”

“Crazy? I act crazy?” I flung my arms up in the air. “But you keep sweatin' me? All I know is that I would've never watched nobody jump you. But you? You stood by and watched Stick, Nana, and Uncle Chuck drag me.”

“You tried to kill Stick! And from what I could see, you got what your hand called for. And the same thing they did to you, they would've done for you.”

“Psst, please. I don't need none of them to do nuffin' for me. I got this.”

“Yeah, and is that why you sittin' on a fire escape overlooking garbage and fiends, 'cause you got it?”

“Whatever. Don't you have a surprise baby to go and feed or somethin'?”

“Don't be tossing that in my face. You must want me to cuss you out and mess you up!”

Cuss me out? Mess me up?
I ice grilled her. “Yo, for real, you already know I ain't the one.”

“And me either. And you're right, I know what time it is, time to step off and leave your miserable self alone!”

“Then be out.”

“I'm out. And when you learn how to act like the old Isis again, my best friend and favorite cousin, then
maybe
we can go and chill with our crew. Or maybe go to Weequahic Park. So we can see the B-boys break-dance and bust a freestyle. Maybe even win a break-dancing contest and get another mixtape. But as of right now, since your mind is all tore up, I don't wanna mess you up. So peace.” She hit me with two fingers, stuck her head back through the window, and rocked her neck.

I just stared at her. 'Cause the only reason why I didn't take it to her dome was because clearly she didn't see how a beat down was gon' be the last line of her eulogy. And being that she was now somebody's mama, I let her get that.

I watched her walk away and then I looked back down into the courtyard. Munch and Cali were bopping their heads to somebody's boom box.

“Why you playin' us out?” Munch yelled to me, as she stood up on the park bench and held her head up toward the fire escape.

I flicked a wrist. “Ain't nobody playin' you out. Whatchu talking about?”

“The whole last two months of school, you didn't talk to us. And the last time you chilled with us was so long ago that I can't even remember when. What's really good with that?”

“I got a lot of things on my mind. I can't chill with y'all right now.”

“And why not?”

“'Cause I don't want to!”

“We miss you though,” Cali added.

“So.” I hunched. A part of me missed them too, but the other part of me just wanted to click my heels and hit another dimension.

“Yvette told us you was crazy,” Munch said. “And judgin' by how stank you acting, I believe it.” She and Cali hopped off the park bench and walked away.

I felt stupid. Lost. Confused. I knew I needed to get up from here and go make up with my crew. But, I wasn't exactly sure how I could live a whole life. A whole one wit' no Queenie. No Face. And a dead Schooly. I didn't even know where to start or what to say. . . . Hell, I needed to be reintroduced to myself.

I climbed through the window and walked back to the bedroom I shared with everybody except Nana and her boyfriend. My little cousins were stretched across the floor and playing jacks, while Yvette was changing her baby Kamari's Pamper.

Yvette shot me a side eye and then reached for the baby powder.

“So what do you call that, an attitude?” I said.

She ignored me.

“Don't tell me you're mad at me now?” I pressed.

Silence.

I sucked my teeth. “You wanna go chill with the crew today? Maybe go to the park?”

Yvette's eyes lit up, but her mouth twisted to the side. “Nope.”

“Well, I wanna go.” I walked over to the bed and sat next to her.

“And how we gon' get there? It's too far to walk.”

“I thought you ain't wanna go?”

“I don't. I'm just asking.”

“We could walk.”

“Walk? Psst. Please. Walkin' is played out. Plus I got this baby now. You wanna catch the bus?”

“You got money?”

She looked at me like I had two heads. “No. Nana gave me money to buy Kamari some milk and Pampers. That's it.”

“And you know I'm broke.”

“So I guess we ain't goin'.”

We both leaned back against the bedroom wall and sighed in defeat.

“Dang, I can't take being stuck up in this place another freakin' day,” I said.

Yvette stared off into space. Then she seemed to gather her thoughts, as she said, “You really wanna go somewhere today?”

“Yeah. But how we gon' get wherever we goin'?”

“We gon' catch a bus.”

I pressed the back of my hand against her forehead. “Are you sick or something? You just heard me say I didn't have any money.”

“Look, don't trip. We gon' get some money.”

“Oh, word? And where we gon' get the money from?”

“We gon' steal it.”