White Lines II: Sunny: A Novel (21 page)

Miss Ingrid’s words stung Ava and she recoiled slightly. It was true, though, she had to admit.

“When I saw the way he looks at you, it reminded me of the way my son looks at a young lady I know.”

Jada looked at Miss Ingrid and beamed. Miss Ingrid winked at her.

Ava forced a smile, too. But she couldn’t help wondering if there was a man alive who would ever look at her that way, or if she would be doomed to be single for the rest of her life.

12

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Sheldon sat at the Dell in his computer class, bored out of his mind. His teacher, Miss Nevins, stood in the front of the classroom explaining how to use Internet search tools, such as Google or Yahoo, to research facts. She had delved into a long and drawn-out diatribe about it, but Sheldon was done listening. It seemed pretty straightforward to him, and he hated it when adults went on and on about a thing that wasn’t overly complicated. He felt they just loved to hear themselves talk.

Sheldon was not a dumb kid. Despite the fact that he was labeled as a “special ed” kid, he had no difficulty learning most things. His problems emerged whenever he was made to sit still for too long. He got antsy and was prone to outbursts. His constant disturbances in class were to blame for his relegation to the short bus.

He placed his cursor in the search box and thought of what to research. Miss Nevins was telling them to look up the state flower for New York. Sheldon couldn’t care less about flowers. There was only one topic that he wanted to know more about—his father.

He wasn’t sure how to spell his father’s name, so he sounded it out. He typed in “Jimaree Jones” and got nothing. But the Web site threw him a life line.
DID YOU MEAN JAMARI JONES?
it asked.

Sheldon clicked the highlighted name and watched in amazement as he was directed to a
Staten Island Advance
article from January 2000.

The body of Jamari Jones was discovered in the parking lot of 55 Holland Avenue in the early hours of Sunday morning. Felled by an apparent gunshot wound to the head, Jones’ body was discovered by a resident of the building as she left for work. The deceased was easily identified since his wallet and identification were found in his pockets. Police sources noted that Jones was a suspected drug dealer and may have been involved in a late-night drug deal gone awry. No witnesses had come forward at press time.

Sheldon read the article four times. He didn’t know what some of the words meant, but he was able to understand most of what the article was saying. His father had been shot in the head during a drug deal when Sheldon was almost two years old. He wondered what he looked like, and was annoyed that no picture accompanied the article. Everyone said Sheldon looked like his mother, but with his hatred toward her growing daily, he chose to believe that he was the spitting image of his father.

As Miss Nevins went on and on about the state flower being the rose and urged the class to look up the state bird next, Sheldon put his mother’s name in the search box. Several articles popped up this time, from the New York
Daily News
, the
New York Post
and the
Staten Island Advance
. He read each one.

The first was from 1994.

Shante Howard and Jada Ford were arrested in the lobby of 240 Broadway, after selling crack cocaine to two undercover police officers.

Sheldon frowned as he read it. His mother had made it seem as if his father was the bad guy, but here was evidence that she was selling drugs long before Sheldon was born. He read the next article, this one from a few months later.

Jada Ford appeared for sentencing in Stapleton Criminal Court in connection with her arrest in the West Brighton Houses during a buy and bust in April. Having no prior arrests, Ford was sentenced to nine months on Rikers Island and nine months in a drug-rehabilitation facility. Ford chose not to address the court at her sentencing.

Sheldon’s young mind was reeling. His mother had been on drugs
and
selling drugs. He moved on to the next article.

Jada Ford, a resident of Staten Island, was arrested on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn yesterday when two plainclothes officers witnessed her involvement in a drug deal. Police apprehended Ford and Eric Mapleton, the alleged dealer. A subsequent search turned up crack cocaine in the possession of both parties. Ford, who police sources noted is six months pregnant, is expected to plead guilty in the hopes that the court will sentence her to rehab.

Sheldon stared at the computer, his rage intensifying with each second. His mother had smoked crack while she was pregnant with him. He had overheard her say so during her conversation with Born, but somehow seeing it in black and white cut him like a knife. He read the final article, describing the eighteen-month sentence his mother had received upon entering a guilty plea. He did the math. If she was six months pregnant at the time of her arrest and was sentenced a month later … had he been born while his mother was still in jail?

Sheldon grew so angry as he sat there that he didn’t notice when the bell rang and the other students around him exited the classroom. He sat there, staring at the computer monitor, until Miss Nevins approached, smiling.

“Sheldon, class is over, sweetie.”

Her voice brought him out of his trance and he quickly stood up and grabbed his stuff, bolting out of the classroom.

Miss Nevins frowned as the troubled young man fled. She looked at the computer and read what he’d been staring at for so long. She knew right away that it was time for her to have a chat with Sheldon’s mother.

*   *   *

Sunny turned the Sony Bravia stereo system in her bedroom up as high as it would go. She laughed at the irony in that, as she was presently high as a muthafuckin’ helicopter! Christmas was days away and she was in a jolly mood, albeit for reasons beside the upcoming holiday. Things with her and Malcolm were going perfectly. He had proven himself to be worthy of her time, taking her on the most magnificent dates. They went to see the musical
Lion King
on Broadway, and he even surprised her with a helicopter ride around the NYC skyline. Sunny felt swept off her feet, the way she had once upon a time—with Dorian.

She snapped her fingers now as she thought about him. He had been busy for the past few weeks working on a new case. Each time she spoke to him he was babbling about depositions and briefs, all things she had no knowledge of or interest in. Still, Malcolm was unlike any man she’d ever dated before. She felt that for the first time since Dorian had taken his last breath in her arms she might just have a chance at having it all—the stability of a life with Malcolm and at the same time the thrill of the life in the fast lane of getting high, partying and bullshit.

Sunny had signed a deal with Kaleidoscope Films to do a movie about her exploits. She had gone over the contracts with Ava, who she had retained as her attorney once she and Malcolm took their relationship to the next level. Ava had been amazed by the seven figures Kaleidoscope was offering for her story, as well as so much creative control over the script itself. They were offering Sunny the deal of a lifetime. It was hard not to be envious.

Every aspect of Sunny’s life seemed to be charmed these days. She and Olivia had been hanging out more than ever. As Olivia prepared for the upcoming launch of her Vintage label, she and Sunny had been attending party after party in order to drum up a buzz for it. Both ladies were well known in the entertainment industry as a result of Olivia’s experience as a celebrity stylist and Sunny’s modeling. As they made sure that they were photographed at all the hottest parties and that their names and the upcoming Vintage launch were listed in boldface in the press, Sunny kept getting high and her friends were none the wiser. Everyone assumed that her newfound zest for life was a result of the magnificent gains she was making in both her personal and professional lives. She smiled at the thought of it all now, as she danced around her bedroom feeling on top of the world.

*   *   *

Mercedes was in her bedroom with Sheldon, watching
106th and Park
on BET. Sheldon was spending the weekend with them since Jada and Born were enjoying some much-needed alone time on a getaway to the Poconos. Mercedes was thrilled to have Sheldon over since she loved him like a brother. They watched TV as they spoke of their shared excitement over Christmas, which was fast approaching.

“I can’t wait to see what I get!” Mercedes’s face reflected her excitement. She already had everything a girl her age could ask for and more. Still, it was always a thrill to see what unexpected surprise her mother had in store for her each year.

Sheldon shrugged, as usual. “I don’t even care about Christmas,” he said, honestly.

Mercedes frowned. “You’re in a pissy mood,” she said, speaking freely since no adults were around. “What’s up with you?”

He looked at Mercedes, trying to decide if he should confide in her. She was his best friend, had always been. Still, he wondered for a moment if she would tell her mother, who would inevitably tell his.

“What?” Mercedes pressed. “Why are you being so weird?”

Sheldon looked at her and decided that he could trust her. Mercedes had never divulged his secrets before. “My mother,” he said. “She’s a crackhead.”

Mercedes gasped. “She is not!” she snapped. “Aunt Jada does not smoke crack!”

“Shhh!” Sheldon admonished her. “Your mother might hear.”

Mercedes waved him off. “She’s blasting her music in her room. She can’t hear.” She got up and shut her bedroom door, just to be on the safe side. “Who told you she smokes crack?”

Sheldon decided to prove it to Mercedes. He went to her desk and turned on the computer. Navigating to the newspaper articles about his mother as he’d done in class the other day, he stepped away and let her see for herself.

Mercedes read the articles in complete amazement. “Aunt Jada was in jail?” she asked, rhetorically.

Sheldon nodded. “I was born in jail,” he said, as if he knew all the facts from the few articles he’d read. “She’s a crackhead and she sold drugs.”

Mercedes couldn’t believe it. She sat for a few moments in stunned silence. Looking at Sheldon, she felt so sorry for him. Hurt was etched on his face as he sat staring at the floor, the disappointment he felt toward his mother obvious.

“My mother used to use cocaine, too,” Mercedes offered, hoping to make him feel better. “Not crack,” she clarified, because even at her young age, she’d been made to understand that of all things, crack was the absolute worst that one could do. “But she told me that she used to inhale it … in her nose, I think. But that was before I was born. And she doesn’t do it anymore.” Mercedes had never shared that with anyone before. She trusted Sheldon just as he trusted her. “Maybe that’s how it is with your mother,” she suggested. “Like … maybe she
used
to be a crackhead and now she’s just a regular person.”

Sheldon stared at Mercedes, processing what she’d just told him. “
Your
mother used to use cocaine, too?” He seemed amazed as Mercedes nodded her head, yes. He had always had a bit of a crush on his Aunt Sunny, so this came as a complete shock to him.

Mercedes thought about Sheldon’s mom and felt sorry for her. “My mom says that getting hooked on drugs is easy, but getting off them is hard. That’s why I will never use drugs.”

“Me either,” Sheldon agreed. He thought about what Mercedes had said. Maybe his mother had changed. “What about your father? Did your mother say that he used drugs, too?”

Mercedes shook her head. “No. My father was a businessman and that’s how he made all his money. He’s the reason we’re rich.”

Sheldon was staring at the floor again. “My father got shot. In the head. He was a drug dealer.”

Mercedes stared at him. “My father got shot, too. By DJ’s mom.”

Sheldon’s eyes widened in surprise. “No way!”

Mercedes nodded. “Yeah, for real. DJ’s mom killed herself after she killed my father. Mommy said that her heart was so broken that she almost died, too. But then she had me and I gave her a reason to live again.” Mercedes touched Sheldon’s hand, reassuringly. She was only a year older than him, but she behaved at times like she was far older. “See? That’s why we’re best friends. Our mothers both used drugs. Our fathers both got shot. But all that stuff is over now. Our mothers are not on drugs anymore and even though we don’t have fathers, we’re all right.”

Sheldon thought about it. Maybe Mercedes was right.

“Aunt Jada is not a crackhead. She just used to be one.” Mercedes shrugged her shoulders. “Just forget about it.”

Sheldon nodded and turned off the computer. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll try.”

*   *   *

Born sat beside Dominique Storms, DJ’s A&R at Def Jam. They were at The Hit Factory, and DJ was in the booth, laying down a new track. It sounded great and both Born and Dominique bobbed their heads to the beat as the producer, Stax, smiled broadly at the young rapper.

“He’s good!” Dominique said. “I mean, obviously that’s why I signed him, but this kid just keeps getting better and better. I think he’s gonna be in a lot of people’s ‘top five rappers alive’ once this album drops.”

Born smiled like a proud father, thrilled to hear her say that. “He’s hungry. He wants this, so he’s been writing like crazy, and the more he writes the better he gets.”

They watched as DJ went hard in the booth, spitting his rhymes like he was trying to get signed, when in fact this would be his second album.

“At Sony, he did all right,” Dominique said. “From a sales standpoint, I mean. But with us…” She smiled brightly at Born. “He’s going straight to number one. Mark my words.”

Born liked the confidence he heard in her voice. He wanted DJ’s every dream to come true.