Ola Shakes It Up (4 page)

“How old is she?” Aeisha asked.

“Twenty.”

“What's her name?”

“Lillian.”

“Does she speak English?” I asked, remembering Marie-Thèrése's thick accent.

“Some. She needs more practice. She learned some English here and some in Haiti. She's supposed to be very smart.” Mama looked at me, then at Khatib and Aeisha. “She needs sponsors to stay in the United States. What do all of you think?”

None of us said anything. I looked around at everybody's faces. Mama and Dad were watching us. I could tell they had already made up their minds to take Lillian, but they were letting us make the final decision. Aeisha looked like she was turning everything that had been said over and over in her mind, and Khatib looked bored. As for me, it was hard to imagine another person living with us. But this person sounded like she needed us more than we needed her.

“We can try,” Aeisha said finally, as practical as ever.

But the last thing I wanted to think about was another change while I was still trying to prevent the first one. I decided that this Lillian person would just have to come live with us in our real house in Boston. We could set up a cot for her in the corner of the living room, just like we did when any of our relatives stayed over. She would be nice and comfy there.

I put all my planning skills to work and came up with Operation Obstruction of Justice. Well, actually, I got the idea from watching the news. They had a story about a man who had lost his job unfairly and had handcuffed himself to his desk at work. He said that he wasn't going to leave until they
gave him his job back, and it worked. I figured that with a few changes here and there, the same plan could work for me. But first I had to find Aeisha.

After searching up and down for her inside the house, I headed outside to look in one of her favorite hiding places, the garage. I looked through one of the small square win-dowpanes in the garage door and sure enough, I could see the top of her head from where she was sitting on Mrs. Gransby's old red velvet armchair. I remembered that Mrs. Gransby had had a big fight with her son, Montel, about that chair.

“But I don't want to sell the thing, child,” Mrs. Gransby had said in her singsongy accent. The way her voice goes up and down with each word makes it sound like music to me. “It old-old like me — but it don't dead yet. You going to give me away like that?”

I had looked up from the television and watched as Montel sighed and straightened his tie. “Whatever you say, Ma. You the boss lady.”

Thinking about that made me remember that Mrs. Gransby was waiting with what she thought was a special last lunch for Aeisha and me.

“Aeisha!” I yelled, rapping on the glass.

Aeisha jumped up like a scared cat and peered over the back of her chair at me. “Go away, Ola.”

I walked into the garage. “Whatcha doin'?”

Aeisha gave me a dirty look. “What do you want?”

“You reading? Whatcha reading?” I asked. Aeisha never goes anywhere without a book. She's a hopeless brain.

“Nothing,” Aeisha said quickly. Her ears were turning
red. Lately Aeisha's been reading those smoochie teenage romance novels and hiding it, but I know, 'cause I make it my business to know everything that goes on in this family

“Look what I got.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a pair of plastic handcuffs. They were kid-size.

Aeisha frowned. “Where'd you get those?”

“Thomas and Jose from across the street let me borrow them. Their dad gave them a police game last Christmas.” I waved the handcuffs in front of Aeisha.

“Ola, you aren't up to one of your stupid plans, are you?” Aeisha leaned forward. “Cause it's too late. We already sold the house.”

“We gotta go, Aeisha. Mrs. Gransby is waiting.” I should have known not to try and share my plans with Aeisha. This time I would show her.

“I didn't forget,” Aeisha said, standing up and looking down at her brown feet. She didn't want to say goodbye to Mrs. Gransby, either. Finally, someone in this family was showing a little emotion about moving besides me.

“Come on, Aeisha,” I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the garage. We walked around the side of the house to the door that led to Mrs. Gransby's floor of the house. As we headed up the stairs I could smell curry and chicken and other yummy cooking smells, and suddenly I felt like I wanted to cry.

“Well, my young ladies,” Mrs. Gransby said as she opened the door for us. She said
ladies
so it sounded like “layties.” “But look how they faces set up like rain! No crying before you eat, hear? We just going to act like this any other day you come home from school or from day camp. I even taped
our soap so we could watch it together, Ola. That she-witch Delilah about to tell that goody-goody Mariah she carrying her husband's child.”

I focused my thoughts on Operation Obstruction of Justice and swallowed my sadness.

“Better. Better.” Mrs. Gransby ushered us into the kitchen. She had the table already set, and the stove was covered with pots. “But still not good. What a shame. I really outdid myself cooking for you today. Roti, codfish fritters, juneplum juice. Look like you ladies too sad to eat.”

“Chicken roti?” Aeisha asked. I looked at Aeisha and she looked at me, and we both rushed to sit down at the table. Chicken roti is our favorite. It's made of chicken, potatoes, and curry sauce rolled up in a flat round bread. Mama says Aeisha and me are unusual because we like to eat all kinds of food, unlike other kids. But Mrs. Gransby s roti is the best food ever. And I kinda like the idea of being unusual, anyway. If I was a magician, that would be my stage name —Ola the Unusual.

Mrs. Gransby put two tall glasses of juneplum juice in front of Aeisha's plate and my plate. Then she sat down across from us and took a sip from her own glass. I chewed on my roti and watched Mrs. Gransby drink. Mrs. Gransby never ate with us 'cause she's forever on a diet. She thinks she's too big 'cause her stomach has rolls in it and she has to wear a girdle to fit into her dresses. But I think Mrs. Gransby is beautiful. She has such soft, smooth brown skin, the color of chocolate, and big dimples that come out whenever she's laughing. Mrs. Gransby treats us just like her grandchildren, though she has seven to treat nice already.

“I don't know how they going to get along without me at work.” Mrs. Gransby shook her head sorrowfully. She had been planning this visit to see her daughter Clarisse for months now.

Aeisha and I nodded. We had our mouths too full to say anything. Mrs. Gransby has a very important job. She's a career counselor for a job training program in downtown Boston. It's up to her to find work for people who really need it. But Mrs. Gransby does more than that. She tries to find the right work for people. She says everyone has native talent for something and it's up to her to make sure the job they get uses their native talent.

“Probably send people with native talent for sewing to job in hotel and people with native talent for writing to job in ‘counting,” Mrs. Gransby grumbled. She raised a hand and sighed. “I don't want to think ‘bout it.”

“Mrs. Gransby,” Aeisha said, putting down her roti, “in case Mom and Dad didn't tell you, you're always welcome to come and visit us in the suburbs. And if you ever get tired and want to hide out from Montel or your other children 'cause they're bothering you for money all the time, you can come and live with us — permanently.”

I nodded hard since my mouth was full of roti. Until my plan could start, I had to act like I was going along with this move.

“You can have Ola's room,” Aeisha added, taking a swallow of her juneplum juice. I tried not to choke on my food.

Mrs. Gransby laughed loud, and her dimples flashed in and out. “I may just have to take you up on that, Aeisha. God
knows I get tired of them children asking for handouts like they not thirty-forty year old. I'm sure I'd feel like me outside in Jamaica sleeping under all them stars Ola got on her ceiling.”

I swallowed the last piece of my roti fast and looked back and forth at Aeisha and Mrs. Gransby I was never going to live in that room, but Aeisha didn't know that. I wanted to ask her, What's the big idea giving it away without consulting me? But I didn't want to make Mrs. Gransby feel bad.

“Sure, Mrs. Gransby, you can share my new room with me,” I said. Under the table, I kicked Aeisha's leg, hard.

“Ow!” Aeisha shouted, glaring at me.

Mrs. Gransby laughed again and stood up. “Don't you worry, Ola. I not going to take you brand-new by-yourself room away from you. But I promise that I visit you before Christmas come.”

“Good.” Under the tablecloth, I started to slide the handcuffs out of my pocket. I wrapped one handcuff around the chair rung behind me and heard the soft click as it locked. The rest of my family could move to Walcott if they wanted. I slipped one of my wrists into the other handcuff and closed it. I was adopting Mrs. Gransby and staying right here in Roxbury.

“Let's go watch that story now, Ola. After that I have a surprise for both of you.” Mrs. Gransby stood up and grabbed one of Aeisha's hands. “Come on now, Ola.”

I shook my head. “I can't, Mrs. Gransby.”

“You can't what, Ola?”

“Can't come with you,” I said. “I can't move.”

Aeisha ducked her head under the table and came back up sighing. “She handcuffed herself to the chair, Mrs. Gransby. She's crazy.”

“I am not!” If I hadn't been handcuffed, I would have pounced on Aeisha for that.

Mrs. Gransby came around the table to see. She looked at my hands and then back at my face. “Well, Ola, are you going to spend the rest of your days in my kitchen?”

I nodded. “If you don't mind, Mrs. Gransby. I'm adopting you. Mama and Dad will understand.”

“That's what you think.” Aeisha crossed her arms.

“They'll be sorry they tried to make me move.” I shifted a little, 'cause my arm was starting to feel uncomfortable from being pulled behind my back.

“After they kill you.” Aeisha turned and dusted off her hands. “Don't pay any attention to her, Mrs. Gransby. Let's go watch the stories.”

Aeisha left the room without seeing the horrible face I'd made just for her. Mrs. Gransby was still standing with her hands on her hips. I hoped she wasn't going to try to talk me out of this. Mrs. Gransby is one of the few people in the world who can talk me out of something.

“You know, I don't think this is such a hot idea, Ola chile.” She shook her head gravely.

“You don't?”

“Well, it's the timing. You're not moving until Sunday, and your parents won't give in to you so soon as now. No — if I know Brewster and Fatima, they'll let you rot in that chair for two whole days,” Mrs. Gransby said very seriously. “Meanwhile, how you going to go to the bathroom? How
you going to sleep? What you going to do with yourself when I have to leave for New York tonight?”

I hadn't thought about that. It would be like Mama and Dad to let me stay handcuffed for two whole days just to teach me a lesson. But it would be worth it in the end.

“I can stand it, Mrs. Gransby Is it okay if I live with you? I know I didn't ask you or anything.” I looked at her with my best pleading eyes.

Mrs. Gransby tapped her foot on the kitchen floor. “I tell you what, Ola. I'll just go in there and watch the story with Aeisha for an hour. I'll wait to give you your gifts —”

“Gifts?” If I had known Mrs. Gransby was going to give us presents, I would have waited until after I opened mine to lock myself up.

“I come back to see you in an hour. If you're still feeling that you can stand sitting in that chair with your arm all twisted up for two days, then you can live with me for as long as you like.” Mrs. Gransby gave me a big smile and left the room.

I was glad Mrs. Gransby was going to let me live with her, but I wished she hadn't mentioned my arm. It was starting to hurt more. I heard the television come on, and I leaned over as far as I could to listen.

I could stand it.

A little pain was nothing.

It was worth it.

I tried to focus on all the good things about living with Mrs. Gransby. I'd get to eat West Indian food all day long. I'd get to sleep in the living room, where the TV was. I'd be
able to help baby-sit all of Mrs. Gransby's grandchildren. But best of all, I knew my family wouldn't survive two weeks without me. Aeisha would fall asleep with her glasses on every night and squash them all up. Mama wouldn't remember what to buy at the supermarket without me there to remind her. Dad would make the family meetings last a whole day without me there to keep him on track. They were gonna fall apart without me around.

My arm wasn't bothering me so much now.

That's because it was totally numb.

Of course, it was also true that my family would have an
easier
time adjusting to Walcott without me there. They'd forget all about the old neighborhood. I wiggled my arm and tried not to yelp. Now it felt like someone was sticking little pins in it. Mama and Dad would be so busy working at their new jobs that they wouldn't have time to think about the million and one reasons why moving to Walcott was the biggest mistake of their lives. I was sure my arm was gonna fall off any minute. Aeisha and Khatib would make new friends and forget about their old ones. They could get so used to
not
having me around, they might forget about how good I was for them.