Authors: Joanne Hyppolite
“Mrs. Gransby!”
Mrs. Gransby and Aeisha ran back into the kitchen. Aeisha was laughing at me, but Mrs. Gransby looked serious. I ignored Aeisha. She didn't know that I had given in just for her and the rest of the family. They needed me. I would find a way for
all
of us to move right back to Rox-bury.
“What can I do for you, Ola?”
“You can send Aeisha to Thomas and Jose's house to get the keys for these handcuffs,” I said loudly. “My arm hurts.”
By the time Aeisha got back, Mrs. Gransby had massaged the feeling back into my numb arm. Aeisha unlocked the handcuffs, and I pulled my arm around and wiggled it. It was okay. It was hard to believe it had been hurting me so bad just a few minutes before. I grabbed Mrs. Gransby's hand and avoided looking at Aeisha. “Come on, Mrs. Gransby. Lets go finish watching our soap.”
“Wait. Wait.” Mrs. Gransby pulled my hand. “I got to give you all your presents.”
Presents! Aeisha and I smiled and started wiggling as Mrs. Gransby took two packages down from one of the cabinets. Presents, and it wasn't even our birthdays.
“This one for you, Aeisha.” Mrs. Gransby handed her a square, flat package. I could tell it was a book. “It's about a girl your age name Laetitia who live in Trinidad. And she like roti, too.”
Aeisha ripped open the wrapping and took out a book that had a picture of a girl looking out a window at the sea. “Thank you, Mrs. Gransby.”
“This one for you, Ola.”
I took the long package and ripped the wrapping off fast. I was hoping Mrs. Gransby had gotten me some new ballet slippers or a stuffed pig for my stuffed animal collection or even just one of those big packages of bubble gum.
It was a book. “Thank you, Mrs. Gransby. It's nice.”
“You don't even look at it, Ola.” Mrs. Gransby smiled, tapping the book. “And I got it special for you.”
It's not that I don't like books. I'm not as crazy about them
as Aeisha, but I don't mind reading every once in a while. History is my favorite subject at school. But books are the kind of gift you give Aeisha— not me.
I looked at the title politely as Aeisha whispered, “Just what you need.”
Ms. Pitapat's Guide to a Perfect Pooch.
It was a dog-training book. The cover had a black-and-white picture of a dog balancing three beach balls on his nose.
“I did a little research, Ola, and I'll have you know that Ms. Pitapat is the leading authority on teaching a new dog old tricks.” Mrs. Gransby winked. “Circus tricks. Ms. Pitapat trains circus dogs all over the world.”
I grinned and hugged Mrs. Gransby around the waist. “You're great, Mrs. Gransby.”
Aeisha hugged her, too, and Mrs. Gransby looked down at us and sniffed. “You're welcome, my young ladies.”
omething was definitely wrong.
I peeked up at the stars on my ceiling and then pulled the covers back over my head.
Yup.
Moving day had been as bad as I hoped it would be, but nobody appreciated it. Not even me. I'd made Mama mad at me, and Aeisha had called me a “first-class brat,” and for the first time in my life I'd volunteered to go to bed early. So, here I was. But even that wasn't going right. First of all, it was too quiet in this new room. I couldn't hear if Dad was listening to the jazz station before he went to bed. I couldn't hear any water sounds from the bathroom, and I couldn't hear the sound of Mrs. Gransby's granddaughter running around upstairs because Mrs. Gransby watches her at night. For all I knew, everybody could have left me in this new house all by myself.
Second of all… I didn't even want to think about that one.
Third of all, this Lillian person would be coming to live with us anytime now. Mama told us that we'd been approved as sponsors and that Lillian was on her way. I didn't know if I liked the idea of somebody else living with us. She could mess up the way this family works.
Fourth of all, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was really wrong with this neighborhood. The inside of our house was super nice, but the outside of it and all the other houses was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Maybe it was because I was used to houses being older, like they are in Boston. Our real house was built in the 1920s, and in our real neighborhood, all the houses were built in different styles. The houses here were too new and looked too much like each other. The big spaces between the houses made it seem unfriendly here — like the neighbors didn't want to talk or know about each other. I'd sat outside on the curb near our house for half an hour just checking things out before I had to give up. That's 'cause there was nothing
to
check out. No kids playing in the street. No old people sitting on the front steps and talking to each other. No doors slamming as people came in and out of their houses. Because the garages were connected to the houses, I didn't even see anybody getting in or out of their cars. This neighborhood was nothing like Roxbury.
Fifth of all, it was too dark in this new room. How's a person supposed to sleep without the lamp on because her nerdy sister reads in bed until she falls asleep? I couldn't bother Aeisha anymore by hiding the light bulb from the lamp and taking the batteries out of her backup flashlight. I couldn't pretend to be asleep so I could see where she was
hiding her diary that night. What was Aeisha gonna do without me to find her glasses in the morning, 'cause she's blind without them and she never remembers where she put them?
Sixth of all… I peeked up at the ceiling again.
Dad had got the stars all wrong. Ursa Minor was supposed to be over in the corner, with Orion right over my head. I couldn't even tell which constellation Dad had put up there. That wasn't like Dad. Hadn't he used the star chart that came with the box? Didn't he think I would be able to tell the difference?
I figured I had six good reasons to get out of bed now, so I did.
I walked slowly to the door and opened it a crack. I could see lights under Khatib's and Aeisha's doors, and I could hear the water running downstairs, so I knew that Mama and Dad were still downstairs unpacking. I walked to the top of the stairs and sat down.
Mama sure could hold a grudge. She hadn't even come to my room to wish me good night. Maybe she was right. Maybe everybody would miss the old neighborhood as much as I would. And maybe Aeisha was right, too. Maybe I
had
been a little bit of a brat all week. Mama and Dad didn't even know about Operation Obstruction of Justice, but they didn't like my attitude.
And nothing had gone right that day, either. The moving truck got lost and didn't find our house until after dark. We got a flat tire right after we left the house and we had to unload the whole car in the middle of a parking lot so Dad could get to the spare tire, which turned out to be flat, too.
When we finally got to the new house, our neighbors just stared at us through the windows. I must have said “I told you so” a million times, and I guess it was one too many times, 'cause Mama blew up at me.
“Tell me why you think you're the only person in this family with feelings, Ola,” Mama snapped when I complained about how high the kitchen cabinets were. “You think none of us is sad to be leaving the old neighborhood, too? Well, we are. But here we are all trying to make the best of it, and so busy trying to keep you happy that we can't show our own sadness. Watch out, Ola, because you are working my last good nerve.”
Now, sitting in the dark at the top of the stairs, I listened to the clinking noises she was making as she unpacked the plates downstairs. I knew I wouldn't be able to go to sleep until I made up with her.
“Ola, what are you doing?” Khatib's voice made me jump. He was standing behind me in his blue pajamas. Half of his face was shadowed, making him look scary.
“I'm contemplating,” I whispered, using one of Aeisha's words.
I heard a giggle. Aeisha was standing behind Khatib.
“Contemplating what?” Aeisha asked, moving down to sit on the stair below me. She had on her favorite red bathrobe. “Your atrocious behavior? Your insensitivity? The fact that Mama had to—”
“Thanks, Aeisha,” I cut her off. “I feel bad enough already.”
Khatib sat down beside me and stretched his legs. They were so long they stretched down five steps, while mine
only stretched past two and a half. One good thing about this move was that it had made Khatib spend more time with the family. I would never admit it to him, but I'd missed having him around since he started high school. “Just apologize, Ola,” he said.
I nodded and stared into the carpet. It was light green and thick. Aeisha wouldn't have to worry about getting her feet dirty. Another change. I missed our old house so bad it hurt.
“So what do you think?” Aeisha whispered. She started playing with the belt of her bathrobe.
“Think about what?”
Aeisha pushed her glasses up her nose and squinted at us intently. “About the neighborhood … you know.”
“Know what?” I asked.
Khatib was nodding like he knew what Aeisha was talking about.
“It looks boring,” I said. “And this whole cooperative thing sounds stupid. Some kid across the street left his bike outside again, and I checked from my window twice and it's still there. I guess you don't have to worry about thieves here —”
“No welcome committee,” Aeisha interrupted me. Her brown eyes were serious.
“Huh?” I asked.
Aeisha sighed impatiently. “If it had been anybody else, there would have been a welcome committee. You know— somebody with a pie or a cake to welcome us into the neighborhood.”
“Maybe they don't have a welcome committee,” I
suggested. I had been right about this place being unfriendly.
“Places like this always have a welcome committee,” Aeisha said. “Don't you watch TV?”
“Maybe they don't come on Saturdays.” I shrugged.
“It's 'cause we're black, Ola,” Khatib said, elbowing me. He had his usual bored-with-the-world look on his face, but this time I could tell he was faking it.
“Oh, that,” I said, leaning my head on my hands and feeling depressed. Number two on my list. The thing I didn't want to think about. We'd been in the new house for over ten hours already and made two trips to the supermarket, one to the hardware store and another to a restaurant for dinner. And everyplace we went, people stared at us. It felt weird not seeing any other black people — anywhere. Just us. It was one thing to know that before we moved in, but it was another thing to actually experience it. “Maybe the welcome committee will come tomorrow.”
“Maybe it won't,” said Aeisha.
“Doesn't matter if it does or doesn't.” Dad's voice came from the bottom of the stairs, making Khatib, Aeisha and me look down. Dad was standing behind Mama with his hands on her shoulders. Grady was standing behind them, looking up at all of us, too. Dad had gone to pick him up from the pound that afternoon.
“Is this a Benson kids' meeting, or can any Benson join?”
Khatib and Aeisha rolled their eyes. Dad sounded so lame. We'd had three meetings that week already (most of which I'd boycotted). Dad was very big on sitting us all down to discuss our concerns as a family unit.
“Any Benson can join,” I said cheerfully. Maybe what we needed was a family meeting. After all, Khatib, Aeisha and I had some serious concerns here. Maybe discussing it as a family unit would help. Best of all, maybe Mama would see that I was trying to cooperate and stop being mad at me. I looked at her hopefully.
“Glad to see you're participating, Ola.” Mama arched one of her long eyebrows and looked back at me. It wasn't going to be that easy. Mama can be a tough nut to crack, boy.
Grady climbed up the stairs and nuzzled me with his nose before going to sit between Aeisha and Khatib. So far, he was the only good thing about this move.
“First order of business?” Dad asked, after he and Mama had settled on the stairs below us.
“We really are the
only
black people in this neighborhood?” Aeisha always gets right to the point.
“Yes.”
Khatib and Aeisha were quiet for a few seconds, and I moved down one step.
“And we're really gonna be the
only
black people at our schools?”