Pushin' (15 page)

It's my job as Nickey Shantae's godmother to make sure that Mickey and Nigel get their acts together, and that's just what I intend to do, starting with Nigel stepping all the way up if he's willing to. If it weren't for that little baby speaking to me in a dream a few months ago when I tapped into Mickey's sleeping head, I would probably feel very torn about Nigel claiming Mickey and the baby, too. But we're past that now, and I have to get my boy to see things my way, and fast. Nigel doesn't have his running shoes on yet, but he's shopping for them.

“Nigel, you're a good brotha and you love Mickey and her baby,” I say aloud, watching as the words move from my mind to his. Nigel knows he's made the right choice but doesn't have the support he needs to walk his chosen path. That's what I'm here for.

“I do love Mickey and the baby, too,” Nigel repeats, calming down as his mind clears. “I love them both and I'm going to take care of them.” Right as we come to a psychic agreement, Mr. Adewale walks back in with the rest of ASU filing in, too. I release Nigel from my visual counseling session and turn my focus to our fine-ass teacher taking his place at the board.

“That's weird,” Nigel says, blinking his eyes quickly and shaking his head. “I feel like my ears just popped or something.” Some people are more sensitive to my mom's gift than others. I remember when cooling Jeremy off during an argument we had at Mickey's baby shower, he said he felt like he had a brain freeze. Chance's mother felt a similar sensation when I met her for the first time, trying to calm her hot ass down, too. I guess the aftereffects are different for everyone.

“Good afternoon, students,” Mr. Adewale says, Ms. Toni making her grand entrance last and winking at me before she takes a seat behind the teacher's desk. They make a great team. Too bad Ms. Toni's not in the market for a much younger man. I wouldn't mind seeing the two of them together, but she's still mourning the tragic death of her husband years ago. To hear her tell it, all she has time for is her two daughters and her job.

Mickey waddles in, completely uncomfortable in her pregnant body. I feel for my girl, especially since the worst is still yet to come. She looks at me sitting in her seat and I can see the neck getting ready to roll. Before Mickey can say a word, Nigel rises to help his girl out.

“I love you, baby. You know I'd rather be with you any day. I just want you to know that,” Nigel says, bringing Mickey's hands up to his lips and kissing her knuckles. Mickey's tears fall on her shirt, wetting the delicate blue fabric. He then places his hand on Mickey's stomach and she puts her hand over his, letting them bond with their baby for a moment.

“Well, isn't that sweet,” Misty says, late as usual. KJ and the rest of their crew take their seats as we finally begin our meeting. I wish Jeremy were here, but he opted to nap in the library. Lucky him. Hopefully we'll both get some good rest tonight. I wish I could slow down like Jeremy does when he feels like it, but a sistah's got too much work to do to simply stop. I've got to keep pushing if I plan on making it through the next six weeks of school, starting with making it through the rest of this week.

S
weat drops slowly make their way from the top of my forehead down to my cheek, eventually landing on the fresh white sheets. I'm panting heavily and the cramps in my stomach are almost too much to bear.

“Ogunlabi, please help me,” I say, reaching my hand out to my husband for support. Mr. Adewale and I are again married, like in another dream I had when we first met months ago. The contractions are getting fiercer with each passing moment. “The baby's coming!” I shout, more out of excitement than fear.

“Okay, baby. It's going to be okay,” he says, wiping my brow with a cold towel and watching the midwife check me out. He offers me ice chips, but I just want this to be over.

“It's time to push, Jayd,” the midwife says, smiling up at me. “The next time you feel a contraction, push down as hard as you can.”

“Like you're having a bowel movement,” my mom says from her mind to mine even though she's in the room with us all. I guess she doesn't want to embarrass me, but it feels like that's exactly what I'm supposed to do. I bear down and push as hard as I can, causing my husband's hand as much pain as I can in the process. Mr. A isn't complaining, like a good husband.

“Jayd, don't be afraid,” Mama says, holding my left hand tightly and helping me stay focused on the goal, which is to push this baby out of me. “Trust your body to do what it does naturally. Stay calm and push.” Taking both of my mothers' advice, I bear down and push again with all my might.

“Ogunlabi!” I yell at the shear thrust of the baby's head making its way into the world. “I can't take any more,” I say, ready to give up. It's been a long, hard labor and I'm not sure that I can take any more, but I have to because we're not done yet.

“Jayd Jackson Adewale, bring our daughter into the world,” my husband says, urging me to keep pushing. With him and Mama supporting me, I give it one more push and finally deliver my baby.

“It's a girl!” Netta, acting as the midwife, says, handing Mama the baby to clean off and look over before passing our daughter to me. Mama then replaces Netta as the midwife, cutting the cord and getting ready to prep the afterbirth for the spiritual ritual all babies in our religion receive, whether they have a caul or not, which my daughter clearly has.

“Look at her eyes,” I say, staring at my daughter's green eyes looking back at me in amazement. “She's got our sight in more ways than one.”

“I think we should name her after Maman,” Mama says, allowing Netta to finish cleaning me up so Netta can hold Mama's great-grandbaby. “Marie Jayd Williams Adewale.”

“I like the sound of that,” I say, handing Mama the baby to give to Netta. Mr. Adewale hasn't held our daughter yet, and is apparently okay with that. He already knows how we women get down in the Williams clan, and wouldn't have it any other way. I repeat our daughter's name and suddenly wake up.

 

“What happened?” I say to Jeremy, who's looking at me like I just farted loudly in my sleep. It wouldn't be the first time, although he's never complained before. There's enough of that to go around for both of us.

“Jayd Adewale, huh?” Jeremy says, throwing the covers off us both before rising to his feet. Oh shit. I must've been talking in my sleep again. I hate when that happens, especially if the witness isn't Mama.

“It was just a dream,” I say, rising with him, still sluggish. But Jeremy's too pissed for reason this morning. “I can't be held accountable for shit that happens when I'm unconscious.” I look around, noticing the sun's rising, but it's still too early for us to be up, and on a Friday, too.

“The unconscious speaks volumes about what it is that you really want, and who.” Jeremy's visibly hurt by this predawn revelation, but so off I can't even begin to explain it.

“Jeremy, that may be true in Freud's world, but my dreams mean a lot more than that. Wait, that didn't sound right,” I say, realizing I'm not making the situation any better. “What I mean is that my dreams are messages, Jeremy, and since I'm not the one pregnant, I don't think it was about me at all.”

“Whatever, Jayd. I've got to get going.” Jeremy slips on his Birkenstocks, unlocks the various bolts and chains on my mom's front door and leaves, slamming the door shut behind him. Damn, this is not a good way to start our morning, but it's here so I'll have to deal with it—and he's not getting off that easy. I slip on my sandals, open the front door and run down the stairs, catching Jeremy in the driveway.

“Jeremy, I keep having these dreams and I can't control them. I'm sorry you have to witness them sometimes, but there's nothing I can do. It's a part of my gift, Jeremy.” He turns around at the end of the driveway, facing me. Jeremy looks so pissed he could punch a wall.

“I know that, Jayd,” he says, cooling down a bit but not completely. “It's just a reaction, like your spontaneous dreams about other guys.” It's not exactly the same thing, but I feel where he's coming from.

“Jeremy, I'm learning how to control my visions, but it's going to take some time,” I say, walking up to him and holding his hands. Thank God summer's around the corner, providing warmer mornings. Otherwise we'd both catch a cold in the early morning chill. I'm trying to keep my voice low because most of my neighbors are still sleeping. There are a couple of lights on in the surrounding apartments, but most people don't rise until after the sun's completely up.

“So you're telling me that this dream is a result of you being a voodoo priestess? How does one have anything to do with the other?” Jeremy's blue eyes are sincere and I want to be able to tell him everything, but I don't know how or if I can.

I look down at Jeremy's ashy knuckles, caressing them with my thumbs. How can I make him understand my gifts? I lead him back toward the stairway to my mom's apartment and he follows. This is not a conversation I want to continue outside. Even if it is the wee hours of the morning, the walls around here have ears. I wouldn't be surprised if my next-door neighbor and client, Shawntrese, is listening at the door.

Once inside, we sit down on the cozy couch and face each other. I look into his eyes, focusing on the strain I feel coming from his mind, cooling his thoughts and allowing him to come to his own conclusion rather than influencing his mind.

“Every woman in my lineage has a gift of sight,” I say, still locked onto his eyes. “My great-grandmother could cripple someone with her thoughts. My grandmother can use anyone's thoughts to her advantage. My mother lost her gift of sight, which was to cool a person's mind and make them see her point of view,” I say, feeling his mind bend toward a clearer understanding of what I'm saying. “And my gift of sight comes in the form of dreams, Jeremy. Crazy, unpredictable, and mostly volatile dreams that I have no control over yet, but I'm working on it.” I release my hold on Jeremy's vision, allowing him to adjust to the load I just laid on him.

“Wow, that's the second time I've felt like I had a brain freeze without drinking anything cold. What the hell?” he says, borrowing my coined phrase.

“Okay, now I have another confession to make,” I say, scooting a little closer to him. I hope he stays chill after I tell him I've tapped into his mind. “That cold feeling is the aftereffect of me relaxing your mind,” I say, Jeremy's eyes again locked onto mine. “I retained my mom's lost powers in one of my dreams and have been learning how to use them ever since.”

“Really?” he asks, more fascinated than angry. “Can you read my mind?”

“No, not at all,” I laugh, realizing he's curious about my lineage. I'm grateful he's not angry with me for not telling him the truth sooner. “We can't do anything to or for a person without his or her consent. And I never use my sight for evil. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but it's not something I share.”

“But I never gave you permission to enter my mind.”

“Not verbally, but when I look into your eyes your mind submits to my visual request, allowing me to tap into your emotions and cool you off, like now.” Jeremy looks like he doesn't believe me and that's okay. I know it will take time for him to adjust, much like it did Rah and Nigel when I first told them about my dreams in junior high. Whether or not they believe me is irrelevant. The most important thing is that we remain friends without judgment.

“So Mr. Adewale's not your dream guy?” Jeremy asks, bringing the conversation full circle.

“No, baby,” I say, slightly untruthful in my words, but he doesn't need to know that. “You're all I need, and I'm sorry my dream made you upset. But, baby, sometimes you can't let your jealousy get the best of you,” I say, now hugging my man. It feels good being honest with him, even if he doesn't believe it all.

“Jayd, it's okay. It's not your fault. Hey, if I was a girl I'd probably think Mr. Adewale was cute, too,” Jeremy says jokingly. I playfully punch him in the thigh. “Hey, I'm just saying.”

“Don't even play like that, Jeremy.” He looks at me and kisses me gently, truly forgiving me and I him. Now this is the way to wake up and get this morning started right. “Let's get up, baby. It's still a school day,” I say, feeling the heat of the sun's rays on my back through the blinds.

“Don't remind me,” he says, unwillingly rising from the couch. “See you at school, babe.” He exits the apartment again, leaving me to get ready for our day. That was a crazy dream, and what's worse is that I've retained some of the back pain and cramps from my fantasy labor. I hope Mickey's ready, because from the small taste I got, labor is not going to be easy.

 

Finally, Friday is here and the school day is almost over. I've never been so happy to see a weekend come. My plan is to get my braid on today after school. I'm working four hours at Netta's and then I've got two heads to braid when I get back to Inglewood. It's going to be a late night, but well worth it.

Now let's see how well I handle this cheer schedule. Starting with the pre-football season, we practice four days a week with games on Friday. With the majority of the practice during sixth period gym class, it's not so bad. It's the Friday games Mama's not going to like, and me neither. That's one of my busiest shop days, and I'm going to miss the money. In the meantime, I'd better enjoy my Fridays while I can.

“Let's get it started, ladies,” Alicia says, calling the new and old cheer squad members together in the gym. We line up in four rows, ready to get our dance on. This is way better than weight lifting class.

“Look to your right and to your left. Then look in front of you and behind you. These are your sisters for the next year. Welcome, ladies,” Shauna says, officially introducing us to one another for the first time. I look in all four directions and notice that with the exception of myself and one other younger sister in the freshman line, there are no other girls of any color on next year's squad. That shit is crazy, but I guess Mr. Adelizi will be glad to know I made the cut. The colleges should be very happy to know that I can play their game and win.

“So, let's get started on our first routine, which we will perform at the final pep rally for the year in a couple of weeks,” Alicia says. “This will be your formal introduction to the rest of the campus. So get it right, ladies, and give it your all!”

Shauna, Alicia, and the other veteran cheerleaders run from the sidelines into the middle of the gymnasium floor, flipping and kicking as high as they can. They didn't say being an acrobat was a requirement. Are they always this excited? It's like they've each had two Red Bulls and coffee before coming to practice. I hope that's not a requirement. I had enough coffee to last me a lifetime when studying for the AP exams, though I do miss the study group. We're supposed to start up again in the summer to study for the SATs, and I am so grateful to again be included. Lord knows I need all the help I can get.

“Jayd, step out and show us what you've got,” Shauna says, pushing Play on her iPod as the music blares loudly through the gymnasium's mega speakers. It's cool that I get to finish out cheer as my PE elective even if I don't officially start until the fall. I could learn to love the perks of being in the cheerleaders and athletes clique, even if I never thought I'd be a part of this crew. Before I can get my grove on, Nellie, Laura, Misty, and the rest of the ASB bitch crew walk in and take a seat in the bleachers. Some of the athletes, including Nigel, KJ, and his crew also join us. I didn't know practice was open to the public, but I guess I'd better get used to people watching me dance.

“Jayd, routine,” Shauna asks again, and this time, I'm on it.

I step away from the varsity line, ready to get my groove on when Chance, Mickey, and Jeremy step into the gym. Damn, more spectators. Did everyone hear the music? I begin the first part of the routine, expertly matching the beat in one of my favorite old school songs. The senior cheerleaders look at me and smile, impressed with their teaching skills and my natural ability to dance.

“Push it real good, Jayd,” KJ yells from the bleachers. Chance and Jeremy both look up and shoot him a look, but KJ couldn't care less. He's a star basketball player and knows we'll see way too much of each other now that I have practice at the same time as him and will accompany the teams to games and all of the other social duties that come with being a cheerleader. But I do have to admit, this part is fun.

“Sarah, Lindsay, Molly, and Rachel. Jump in on eight,” Shauna says, directing two of the other girls on the varsity squad to join in the routine. They catch it on the beat, but are less enthusiastic in their dancing than I am, and Shauna notices. “You're too tight, ladies! Loosen up!” The girls begin to move more, but still look stiff as boards compared to me. A lot of the moves are too sensual for them, I can tell. But none of them are too sexual, unlike some of the cheer moves I've seen at the high schools in my hood. Some of those girls might as well have sex right then and there the way they dance during half time.