Authors: Ebony Joy Wilkins
“Sometimes on the street, people look at me like I’m some kind of disease,” Rex continued, “like I’m not good enough to walk on the same sidewalks as they do.”
I’d never thought about how hard Rex’s life must be. He always looked content to me. His shopping cart was filled to the brim with torn blankets and plastic bags full of canned goods. A pair of sneakers was thrown over the top, almost holding everything in place to avoid an avalanche of his belongings. Living on the street must be rough, but I’d never heard him complain or even talk about it.
“It don’t seem fair, do it, Ms. NaTasha?” Rex said, finally looking up at me. I wasn’t quite sure what he wanted me to say, but I nodded my head in agreement. “But you know how I learned to deal with it? I just held my head high no matter
what. And I also learned that for every jerk that passes by, there are two or three good ones that come by soon enough. You kids need to learn that.”
I kept nodding because he was right. I wondered if I could find even a handful of nice people at Amber’s Place to make up for the bad ones I’d run into so far. I thought about Shaunda.
When they finished the game, the guys leaned back with their elbows on the stairs next to me. We sat like that until the sun changed positions in the sky. The streets started to fill with more people. Soon Tilly would be back and I knew she’d have a million and five questions for me to answer. She must have been shocked to discover I wasn’t in the building with her all day.
We watched her neighbors go by, everyone headed home for dinner. A group of guys around my age joked with a taxi driver, who didn’t look pleased to have to take the group anywhere. He reluctantly unlocked the doors and drove off with them down the street. I could also see Amir. He was unloading boxes from a delivery truck. I watched him work for a while until he caught me staring. I looked away quickly but waved when I could feel he was waiting for me to look back at him again.
“Looks like you got an admirer, young lady,” Rex said, with a smile on his face.
“Whatever,” Khalik said, “that dude ain’t nobody. Look at him, he works in that funny outfit and he ain’t got no peoples to hang out with.”
“That’s what I’m talking about right there, son,” Rex said. “You don’t know nothing about that cat, but you talking bad about him. You should go meet him and then see what you think. You two might have a lot to talk about.”
“I ain’t got shit to say to that dude,” Khalik said, standing. “I’ll catch you all later. Keep your head up, Tash.”
Khalik moved quickly and was already through the door by the time I turned around to say good-bye. I wondered why he was suddenly in such a rush. Rex must have thought the same thing and shrugged his shoulders like he didn’t know why, either.
“What are you all doing out here?” Tilly asked, as she crossed the street toward us. She was carrying two grocery bags at her side. I ran to take them from her with the cut side of my face turned away, and then walked behind her. It was only a matter of time before she discovered I’d been in a fight, but later was definitely better than sooner in my case. “What happened to you, girl? I was worried.”
“I just needed a break, that’s all,” I told her, which was half of the truth. I did need a break from all that madness. Tilly didn’t need to know I was running away to hide from those terrors at Amber’s Place. “Sorry I worried you.”
“I got your note, so I knew you weren’t lying somewhere hurt, but you should have come to find me,” she said, squeezing her hips through the front door. “Evening, Rex, you want a plate?”
“No, thanks, Ms. Tilly, I’m headed to the church tonight,” he answered, moving toward his cart. “You know they got my favorite meat loaf tonight.”
“Alright then, Rex, we’ll catch you later,” Tilly said, starting to close the door behind us. We waved to Rex as he wheeled away down the sidewalk.
When we got inside Tilly’s apartment, Tilly set her purse down and went straight to the kitchen. She smiled and reached for two place settings, each decorated with a different pattern of painted apples and vines. When we sat down to eat a short while later, she didn’t waste any time.
“So, are you going to tell me about the day, or am I gonna have to hear it from someone else?” Tilly asked. “What’s the matter, girl, tell me about it.”
I put a forkful of salad in my mouth and tried not to look her in the eye.
The collection of pearls I’d picked up off the ground was burning a hole in my pocketbook. Tilly had a way of finding everything out, without asking. I knew she better hear it from me.
I swallowed hard and looked her in the eye. She wiped her mouth with a napkin.
“Tilly, I broke the bracelet,” I told her. I pulled the loose pearls out of my purse and placed them on the table between us. She finished chewing what was in her mouth before she said anything. She eyed each pearl, almost like she was counting.
“I’m sorry, Tilly,” I said.
“How did this happen, NaTasha?” she asked quietly. “You know I don’t own much and I trusted you to keep up with my jewelry.”
I felt horrible. I couldn’t look at her anymore. I thought I saw a tear forming around her eyes. If only I’d knocked first
before rushing into Red’s office or just kept my mouth shut, none of this would have ever happened.
“I fell.” First I broke her jewelry and then I lied. It
was
a fall, after Monique knocked me down, but it was still lying. “I fell coming out of the bathroom today. The pearls got caught in the door and I went down like a bowling pin.”
I’d have to find some way of repaying Tilly for the broken pearl bracelet.
“Oh. Well, did you hurt yourself?” she asked, looking at the scraped skin on my face. I couldn’t believe what I was doing. I’d never lied to Tilly ever before. I leaned in and showed her my cheek, where Monique had grabbed me. She traced her fingers across my face and watched me carefully. I pulled away quickly and put more lettuce in my mouth.
“You fell, huh?” she said, taking another spoonful of the greens.
I nodded yes, but couldn’t bring myself to look at her anymore. Our eyes didn’t meet, but I could feel her gaze like I could feel a fork scraping across my teeth.
“Did anything else interesting happen?” she asked.
“Nope,” I said.
“Nothing?” she prodded. “You’re sure?”
I thought about all the bad things these girls had said to me so far. It seemed like Amber’s Place had been a part of my life forever and not just a few days.
“Tilly, why do these girls hate me so much?” I asked before I could think better of it. I really wanted to know. Quiana was so angry and I couldn’t figure out why her anger was directed toward me.
“Someone said they hated you?” she asked, sounding surprised. She put her fork down onto her plate.
“Yeah, in the gym yesterday,” I told her. “I guess I stood with the wrong group of people. But I didn’t understand what was going on.”
“It sounds to me like you stood with the right people and didn’t get yourself wrapped up in silliness,” Tilly said.
I put my fork down, too, and pushed the plate away from me a little. Tilly sighed and kept talking. Something about her tone and facial expression told me she’d had this very same conversation with someone else before.
“There’s a difference between being proud and being ignorant,” she said. “Don’t you choose ignorance, you hear me, girl? Those girls believe because you are different that you can’t still be just like them. And we know that isn’t true. People fear what they don’t know.”
When Tilly gave words of wisdom, I listened. She stood up after that, leaving some untouched food, and started clearing the dishes. Tilly had gotten most of the dishes from the table and turned on the hot water to start washing. I walked up behind her and hugged her tight.
“I tried to be nice to those girls and they don’t want anything to do with me,” I told her. “They are so different from the girls at home. I really miss my friends. I miss the way things were.”
“I know, baby, I know,” she said. I wanted to ask more and find out what she knew, but she sighed again and I could tell she was getting tired. “It’ll get better in time, you’ll see.”
I trusted her and desperately wanted to believe her, but it was hard to. We cleared and washed until every dish was returned to its proper place in Tilly’s cabinets.
“Tilly, I’m really sorry about your bracelet, but don’t worry, I’ll replace it,” I told her.
“I know you’re sorry, baby,” she said. “I’m not worried about those jewels. I’m glad you’re okay. And you know you can talk to me about what really happened whenever you’re ready.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she closed her bedroom door before any more lies could come out of my mouth.
I knew Heather would call me back after she got my message, so I wasn’t shocked when the phone rang. She was already talking when I picked up the line.
“Hello?” I asked. “Heather, who are you talking to?”
Two voices giggled back at me. There was someone else on the line, which annoyed me. I was in no mood to be toyed with, not after the day I’d had. Heather should have been able to recognize that in my voice when I had left her the message earlier.
“Tash, you have to, like, guess who it is. You’ll never believe it!” Heather said, sounding like a three-year-old on Christmas Eve waiting to open a room full of presents. “Go ahead and guess.”
If she only knew how
not
in the mood I was for this.
“You have three seconds, Heather, and then I’m hanging up,” I said as sternly as I could. The two of them giggled again. “I wanted to talk to you about my day.”
Heather didn’t answer at all. I could tell by her silence that I’d hurt her feelings. Well, she’d get over it.
“It’s me, NaTasha. It’s Stephanie.” Stephanie said this like I was supposed to be excited to hear her voice. “How’s the big city treating you? I decided that I’d forgive you. Actually, Heather convinced me. So we can all be friends, okay?”
What in the world was my best friend doing on the phone with my biggest enemy? I must have a tattoo on my forehead that read TORTURE ME or something because I just couldn’t win.
“Stephanie, what’s up?” I asked flatly.
Heather jumped in before Stephanie could answer. “What’s got you in, like, such a sour mood, Tash?” she asked.
“Maybe it’s the fact that I wanted to talk to my best friend about the rotten day I’ve had and she calls with the one person who hates me most in Adams Park,” I said. Yeah, it was rude and I didn’t care.
“Look, I already told you what to do about your situation at that crazy place, Tash,” she said, like she was talking to a stranger on a telemarketing call. “If you don’t like it, then come home already. No one’s forcing you to stay there. But we didn’t call to talk about that. We have some exciting news for you.”
We
didn’t call? I didn’t know what had gotten into Heather, but I sure hoped she didn’t seriously think I’d be excited to hear any news from the girl
we
used to hate.
“What’s the news, Heather?” I asked reluctantly.
“Get this…we got the
same
haircuts today,” she screamed
into my ear. “They’re, like, totally the same. Stephanie’s hair stylist was awesome and she gave us a great new look.”
“Wonderful,” I said, holding the phone about a foot away from my ear. This could not be happening. I’d been replaced, by a party, a new outfit, and a pair of shears.
“I know! They look great. You could get one, too, when you come back,” she said, waiting for my reaction. I didn’t have one. “How cool would that be? Then we’ll all look like sisters!”
I would look as much like those two as an elephant does a zebra.
“Well, not
exactly
alike, Heather,” Stephanie said, throwing her little laugh into the mix again. She was starting to sound like long fingernails dragging across a chalkboard. “I’m sure my stylist could try, but NaTasha wouldn’t look
exactly
like us.”
“Of course she would,” Heather said, sounding confused. “I, like, so don’t get it.”
“Why do you sound like that, Heather?” I asked her. The high shrill sound was working my nerves.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“So, how long exactly are you going to be gone, NaTasha?” Stephanie asked, interrupting again.
That was it. No more Ms. Semi-nice Guy. This conversation was over.
“Okay, it’s been great catching up, but I have more important things to worry about than cutting my hair,” I told them. “Heather, maybe I’ll talk to you later when you’re not so busy.”
“NaTasha, wait, we have another surprise…” she started.
I hung up the phone, feeling like crap, which was starting to become all too familiar a feeling these days. I flopped onto the sofa without undressing or showering. Cleaning up right then wouldn’t have made my deep state of funk go away anyway.
I WOKE UP feeling like something had shifted inside of me. Despite the nasty fight and the disturbing phone call from home, I felt stronger somehow. And I knew I couldn’t go home.
Rex was right. For every one jerk, there had to be at least two more nice people to balance the world out. I had met the mean ones already at Amber’s Place, so today the nice people had to make a comeback.
Quiana, Rochelle, and Monique had already done their damage. There was nothing left for them to do to me. If I ran away, they would win. I may not be able to compete physically, but they weren’t going to make me run away, too. I would plan the best recognition ceremony they had ever seen. I couldn’t disappoint Red or Tilly anymore. I had already told Red I’d help and already lied to Tilly, so I owed them.
Tilly was silent all the way to the train station. She eyed me a few times, though, and every time I turned my face away so I wouldn’t have to talk about what happened by Red’s office. Tilly had let me avoid the subject so far, but I knew it was only a matter of time before the story was out.
When we stepped onto the train, a young guy got up and offered Tilly his seat. I stood directly in front of her, waiting for her to look up. She didn’t. Right then I knew Tilly wasn’t very happy with me.
“I wonder what’s going on at Amber’s Place today,” I said in Tilly’s direction. When Tilly didn’t respond my heart sunk. I couldn’t have Tilly not on my side. Not with so many people already against me. The other passengers looked around to see who I could be talking to. I didn’t like everyone’s eyes on me like I was some crazy person, but I was desperate for Tilly to talk to me. “We have that volleyball match today. I hope we win.”
Now I was having a full conversation with myself. The couple sitting to my left stood and found seats near the other end of the car, so I sat down. A few others eyed the empty seat next to me, but no one moved. I didn’t blame them. I wouldn’t want to sit next to a crazy girl who talked to herself, either.
“I sure hope we win or at least come close,” I said, more loudly than before. “I was thinking of wearing my famous ballet scarf bun for the big game, what do you think?”
Tilly glanced over and grinned a little bit. It worked. She always liked when I made her laugh. I reached for her hand and she took it. Her hands felt rough, but just around the edges, like she washed dishes but applied the right amount of her cocoa butter lotion.
“Let me tell you a story,” she said softly.
I leaned closer to Tilly and listened to her over the roar of the train.
“When I was your age, I walked into a similar situation as you, NaTasha. I was the new girl at school, struggling to find myself, struggling to find a place where I fit in, to be accepted for just being me. I searched for a long time, because, unlike you, I didn’t get that kind of support at home. I looked to my friends at school and some kids who shouldn’t have been my friends. Most of them were just looking to take advantage and have a little fun with the new girl.”
Tilly paused for a minute. I held my breath, hoping she wouldn’t change her mind about talking to me. I wanted to hear anything from her at this point. She had never told me much about her childhood, just that her high school years in the Bronx were the worst.
“A girl approached me in the hallway one of my first days at that school and asked me if I wanted to sit with her and her friends during lunch. I didn’t know anyone else, so I said yes. I didn’t understand until later how bad of a decision it was to align myself with this group of girls. I just wanted to fit in and have friends.”
Tilly seemed to be in some kind of trance, as if the girls were sitting right in front of her and she was telling them her side of the story. She continued softly.
“Once I got to the table, the girls created a list of tasks that I had to complete in order to gain their full friendship. Each task was a little harder than the other, and a little more illegal than the one before it. But I did every last one of them. I wanted to be friends with them so badly. When the list was completed, I thought I was done. But I was wrong.”
Tilly’s voice started to crack and she squeezed my hand hard.
“I knew those girls weren’t worth my time, but I let it continue anyway, just so I wasn’t alone. A few nights later, I got invited to a slumber party. The girls took turns yelling questions in my face and then spitting at me when the answers weren’t right. The next day at school they apologized and told me they were only having fun with me. I forgave them right away, but the next night it was more of the same, except they wanted to see how much pain I could handle. One girl would pull my hair and see how long it took me to scream. I came home with so many patches of my hair missing that my mother thought I’d been in a fight. And now that I think about it, I was in a fight. Those girls punched at me and kicked at me like I was a robber trying to take away all of their money. It was almost two weeks before I spoke to them again, but they convinced me, somehow, that things would be different. This time I followed them on the train to a part of New York I’d never been to. We were supposed to be touring a new neighborhood together. I turned my back for a second and they were gone. I had to find my own way home. Eventually, I learned to start making decisions for myself again. These girls were not my friends and as soon as I realized that, I was better off.”
The tears were flowing from my eyes. A little boy sitting across the train car handed us tissues from his backpack. I reached for the tissues and tried to clean myself up. Tilly went through some pain, too. I guess we all had to go through something.
I held Tilly’s arm to help her off the train and followed her through the turnstile and out onto the street.
“Wow, Tilly, I didn’t know you went through anything like that,” I told her. “Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”
“Tash, all the girls at Amber’s Place have a story, including you and me. This building we meet in is named for a girl who couldn’t handle the pain of her abuser anymore. Amber Chambers ended up taking her own life. But that’s what the girls are learning here: We are stronger than any pain that may come into our lives. That’s what Amber’s Place is all about. Baby, there is going to be struggle in your life that you can’t possibly prepare yourself for, but let me tell you from experience, if you run from it, it’ll just follow you to another place in your life. You have to learn to face your fears.”
We stood in front of Amber’s Place and Tilly wrapped me in a big hug. My heart beat uncontrollably at the thought of walking through those doors. But, with Tilly’s encouragement, I was ready to face Monique again.
“I really hope you decide to stay and plan this recognition ceremony, but I understand if you can’t,” she said, looking at me as if she were waiting for my answer on the spot.
Tilly squeezed my hand again and walked toward the entrance. Before she got too far away, I called out to her. “I’ll do my best,” I said. Tilly nodded and I followed her inside.
Group time went by uneventfully. The girls stared at me and I stared right back. My life at home was so easy compared to what I was facing here. I had no idea how to help these
girls, when I needed some myself. But I had to stay and figure it out. When Red dismissed us, I walked toward the gym, carrying Rex’s words and Tilly’s advice along with me.
“Whose side you gonna be on today, Sellout?”
Quiana started in on me as soon as I walked through the gym doors. Coach was late so I was on my own, sort of like Tilly was on her first few days of school. The image of Tilly’s hair being pulled had stuck with me. Nothing Quiana said to me now could affect me the way she wanted. I pictured her in Tilly’s story. Quiana was the one pulling at Tilly’s hair. My face grew hotter and hotter every time she opened her mouth. But I was not going to let her win.
“Maybe if we help you, you’ll know which side you belong on,” Quiana said.
She and her girls had me surrounded. Every girl in the gym looked our way, but no one moved. Quiana had everyone under her spell. Even Shaunda shook her head and looked the other way. I guess she figured she had rescued me enough already.
Quiana and Rochelle surrounded me. Rochelle stood so close behind me I could smell her cheap perfume.
“Leave me alone, Quiana,” I told her, my skin starting to crawl. “You don’t bother me.”
“Oh, yes I do,” she laughed. “If I didn’t, your face wouldn’t be all red and your body wouldn’t shake like a little leaf.”
The girls laughed. I just stared right through them. Pretended they weren’t even there.
“I’m shaking because I can’t wait to beat your team out there today,” I said.
“Yeah, whatever, Sellout,” Quiana said now. “We’ll see just how good you play today. Rochelle is the best player here.”
Their team nodded and slapped hands with one another. Rochelle was a little too close for comfort. If I stepped back at all, I’d be lying in her lap.
“Yeah, I guess we will see,” I said too confidently.
Rochelle had about three inches on me and her width was the size of a quarterback. Clearly, she could take me out with one swing, but I pretended not to care.
The girls laughed and started to shove one another playfully, intentionally bumping me around. The picture of Tilly in a circle being shoved around just like me popped into my head and I clenched my fists tightly.
“Cut it out,” I told them, trying to push my way out of their trap.
They laughed and kept shoving. I saw Tilly back on the train with her head down. I pushed them back as hard as I could and knocked Quiana down. All the laughter stopped at once.
Rochelle grabbed on to a chunk of my hair and yanked my head back. I could see Quiana struggling to get onto her feet quickly. Everything was silent now. Every eye was on us.
“You bitch,” Rochelle screamed. “You’re really gonna get it now.”
“You just don’t know when to quit do you, Sellout?” Quiana yelled.
The gym doors flung open and Coach West came barreling in, the whistle blowing loudly between her lips.
“We’ll settle this later,” Quiana whispered. “That’s a promise.”
I joined my team but stayed clear of Shaunda, who waved me over. I was just as angry at her as at Quiana at the moment. Where had she been a few minutes ago?
“Okay, ladies, let’s get changed and ready to play,” Coach said. “We have a match to settle. When you get back, grab a ball and separate into your teams.”
I pulled on my gym shorts and T-shirt and laced up my tennis shoes as fast as I could. This was my chance to shine out on the volleyball court.
Back in the gym I joined my team and prayed for a miracle. Two girls next to me had taken the time to braid their shoelaces into a pretty pattern. They reminded me of Heather and Stephanie and their stupid matching haircuts. Shaunda stood behind me and ran her fingers through her hair over and over again. This would be a long match. None of the girls on my team seemed to care whether we won or lost.
I wondered if anyone besides Quiana and Rochelle noticed how out of place I was on my team. There was a clear separation of color. I was on the team of girls with white skin and long hair. I stood out like a sore thumb. Quiana and her gang smirked at me from the other side of the court.
“NaTasha, is everything okay?” Coach asked, before we started. She must have seen that I was surrounded by trouble as she flew into the gym. I glanced over at Quiana, who stared at me with an all-too-eager look in her eyes.
“Everything’s fine,” I said.
“This is going to be fun,” Rochelle said, directly across the net from me.
Coach blew her whistle and the match began. Soon all I could hear were the grunts after a hit, the squealing of shoes skidding across the floor, and the whistling of the ball slamming into the net. Rochelle was good. She made every set that was sent her way. Every time I raised both hands ready to receive a ball over the net, she reached higher to connect with the ball.
We rotated every point until my turn to serve came. I took position outside the line and held the ball outstretched in my left hand.
“Choke, bitch,” Quiana pretended to cough into her hand. The girls on her squad laughed.
I served while they were still laughing at Quiana and scored a point for our team. My team gathered together in the center of the court and cheered. It wasn’t game point yet, but it felt good.
“That was the last one, Sellout,” Rochelle yelled to me.
“Okay, girls, let’s keep up a positive playing atmosphere,” Coach yelled, behind her clipboard. Positive playing atmosphere…How could she be so oblivious?
Rochelle had new fire in her eyes. I served again and this
time Quiana’s team was more than ready. We passed back and forth a few times, and then Rochelle hit a line drive at my head.
“Miss it, Sellout,” Quiana yelled again from her spot on the court.
I swung too soon and the ball smacked me in the nose before I could slam it back over the net. I felt my face explode like an overfilled dam.
My team surrounded me. Through their muscled legs, I could still see the huddle of girls across the floor congratulating Rochelle for taking me out of the game. Coach decided the amount of blood coming from my nose was enough to send me to the nurse. I wanted back in.
I was completely covered by the time I reached Gracie, a volunteer nurse at Amber’s Place.
“Dios mío!
What happened?” she asked, sounding alarmed.
“Oh, just a volleyball accident,” I told her. My nose felt like it wasn’t there anymore. My whole face throbbed and hurt even worse when Gracie applied alcohol on it with a gauze pad. I felt around to see if my bones were still there. Gracie pushed my hands aside. Her gloves were covered with my blood.
I wondered if Tilly had ever had a bloody face from the girls who tormented her. It was hard picturing my grandmother with a bloody face, or playing volleyball for that matter. Somehow, Tilly had survived and learned how to handle herself with people. And now she always knew the right things to say and the right way to act. I had to learn, too. Gracie wiped my
face clean and put a bandage over my nose, but it felt like my whole head was wrapped like a mummy.