Tyrell Page 20

  It take a while, but them eyes start to go back to the way they used to look, and Ms. Jenkins even start breathing regular again. “I know my daughter very well,” she tell my moms, and she smile like she trying to keep the mood friendly. “She’s a good girl who doesn’t keep secrets from her mother.”

  Ms. Jenkins don’t believe none of what she saying and we all know it. My moms look up to the ceiling like she think Ms. Jenkins is a fool or something for thinking Novisha tell her moms everything. And me and Novisha know her moms don’t really trust her ‘cause, if she did, she wouldn’t be reading her diary all the time.

  Novisha give me one last look, like, that was close, then she go back to the computer and Troy. I hear the computer dialing up to go online. “So how’s school, Troy?” she ask, trying way too hard to get the conversation off me and her.

  “Good. I’m gonna move to a new class on Monday. And I’m gonna stay in my old class too.”

  “That sounds interesting.”

  While Novisha and Troy talk and search online for a game, Ms. Jenkins try to talk to my moms, but they don’t really got nothing to talk ‘bout. They don’t got shit in common. So they start gossiping ‘bout some of the other people who live here in Bronxwood, like who husband left her, who man got locked up, all that kinda stuff. They don’t got one good thing to say ‘bout no man. But that keep them busy for a while, and I get to relax a little bit ‘cause least they ain’t talking ‘bout me and Novisha no more.

  “Go set the table,” Ms. Jenkins tell Novisha after a while. “And set a place for your father.”

  Novisha roll her eyes, but her moms don’t see her.

  “I’ll help you,” I say, and me and her go in the kitchen.

  Novisha look pissed. She whisper to me, “God, why does she always have to include him in everything? I’m getting tired of this already.”

  “Chill,” I say, then I tell her the same thing my moms told me yesterday. “Maybe she need him. You know, she don’t wanna be alone no more.”

  “She’s not alone. I’m with her.” She get the plates out the cabinet and hand them to me. Six plates at a table that’s only really big enough for four. “She’s pathetic. He’s making her look like a fool.”

  We set the table, but Ms. Jenkins and my moms stay in the living room. I can tell Ms. Jenkins is trying to wait for her ex-husband to show up ‘cause she keep looking up at the clock every couple minutes. But finally at 8:00 she say, “Well, we’d better get started. Let’s eat.”

  I go grab the computer chair while Novisha get the chair from her room. Me and her sit together while Ms. Jenkins start serving the food: fried chicken, baked macaroni and cheese, black-eyed peas and rice, collard greens, and corn bread. Man. Novisha wasn’t lying when she said her moms was going all out for us. The woman threw down.

  When Ms. Jenkins finally sit down with us, she make us pray before we can eat. She thank God for getting us all together and ask God to find us a new place to live at. She real nice that way.

  “I don’t know where my husband is,” Ms. Jenkins say after she finish praying. The empty chair is right next to her. “He said he’d get here by seven thirty, but he probably got stuck in traffic.”

  My moms suck her teeth. “If you want a man to eat dinner with every night, Bonelle, why you divorce him?”

  Next to me, Novisha smile, but I wanna smack a muzzle over my moms mouth. She embarrassing the hell outta me.

  And she don’t stop talking neither. “Now I know your husband was doing his thing out there, but girl, you know how them mens is. It’s up to us to do what we gotta do to hold our family together, not get divorced the first chance we get.”

  For the first time since I knew her, Ms. Jenkins look mad. And kinda shocked too. But she don’t raise her voice or nothing. She just say real calm, “Well, Lisa, it’s easy to put up with a man when he spends more time in prison than at home.”

  Damn. Ms. Jenkins went there.

  “I’m just saying, Bonelle, that I was surprised when you and Jimmy got divorced, being all Catholic and whatnot. I thought y’all wasn’t even allowed to get divorced.” My moms shove a huge forkful of macaroni and cheese in her mouth like she trying to eat as much as she can before Ms. Jenkins throw us out or something.

  I decide to stop this before there be collard greens and chicken flying ‘cross the table. “Everything taste delicious, Ms. Jenkins. You should open up your own restaurant, right, Troy?”

  “Uh-huh.” He bite into a chicken leg with his mouth all greasy and shit.

  “Well, thank you, boys. But make sure y’all save some room for the sweet potato pie. I made three of them.”

  I look at my moms and she just acting like nothing happened. And me, I just wanna kill her for disrespecting Ms. Jenkins when all the woman do is help us. There ain’t no excuse for it.

  Through the rest of the dinner my moms and Ms. Jenkins don’t hardly talk, and I’m glad. Then Novisha so-called father show up with a hundred excuses for why he late. Ms. Jenkins feed him and she don’t even act upset with him. It’s like she just glad he decided to show up at all.

  When we finish eating, my moms lean back in her chair, all full and shit, and light up a Newport right there at the table. I mean, I can’t hardly believe what I’m looking at. She actin’ like she in her own house, and she don’t care that everybody looking at her like she out her mind or something.

  “Um, Lisa,” Ms. Jenkins say. “We don’t allow smoking in our home. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, shit,” my moms say. “I didn’t know that.” She take the cigarette, get up, and leave the apartment with it.

  All of us look at each other, but nobody know what to say. I know if me and Troy wasn’t there they woulda all talked bad ‘bout my moms, but now they don’t say nothing for a while.

  Then Ms. Jenkins stand up and start picking up our plates. “Who’s ready for dessert?”

  “Me!” Troy say real loud. He even raise his hand like he at school. That get Ms. Jenkins to laugh and then we all start to laugh a little. By the time my moms come back inside, we all eating pie and talking like nothing happened.

  After dessert, I thank Ms. Jenkins for everything. Then me, Novisha, and Troy go back in the living room while the three of them sit there drinking coffee. Course I’m trying to hear what my moms is saying. See how much she embarrassing herself. And me. But I can’t hear nothing.

  Novisha find some website with games that teach kids shit with cartoon animals and talking letters. Troy don’t need no more help. He just take the mouse and get to work by his own self. So me and Novisha sit on the couch close, but not too close, and when nobody looking, I kiss her on the lips. “Ty,” she whisper. “My mom and dad are gonna see us.”

  “Shh.” I kiss her again. I’m trying to get some tongue action going, but she don’t let me. Man, I wish there was some way to get her alone, but that ain’t gonna happen today.

  Novisha rub my head, trying to relax me the best she can with her parents right there. “I need to do some of these braids over.”

  “Let’s go to your room then.”

  She look in the kitchen real quick and nobody look like they paying us no mind. So she go, “Okay.” We get up and head for her bedroom.

  “Where y’all think you’re going?” Mr. Jenkins ask us. Damn, we cold busted. And by her pops. “What, y’all trying to sneak away from us?”

  “I wanna fix Ty’s hair, that’s all. We’re gonna keep the door open, okay?”

  Novisha don’t wait for no answer. She just keep walking, but just as I’m ‘bout to go in her room, Ms. Jenkins say, “Tyrell, come get this chair. I don’t want y’all to get on that bed.”

  I go grab the desk chair from the kitchen and take it back to Novisha room. Then I sit and wait while she get the comb and the grease from the bathroom. This time I don’t even look for the real journal on her desk ‘cause I know it’s only gonna fuck with my head. And I ain’t even get a chance to talk to her yet ‘bout that shit she wrote the
other day.

  While Novisha doing my hair, she ask me, “So, is there anything new? What have you been up to?”

  “Nothing,” I say. Ain’t no way I’ma tell her ‘bout the party ‘cause she gonna get all worried that I’ma get locked up and, truth is, that could happen. So, I’m like this: Why tell her something she don’t need to know?

  “Nothing?” She act like she surprised or something.

  “Nah, same ol’ same ol’. What ‘bout you?”

  “Just school. Nothing special.”

  I know she gonna get mad, but I gotta ask her, “You get any more of them letters from that dude?”

  Her hands stop in the middle of a braid. “C’mon, Ty. Don’t start.”

  “What that mean, that he still writing you or what?”

  She start braiding again, but hard and tight now. “Ow.” That shit hurt. I try to move my head, but she got my hair in a grip and I can’t go nowhere.

  “Stop moving,” she say. “Or this braid is gonna be crooked.”

  I sit back. “I’m just saying, I don’t want nothing bad to happen to you, you know? I’m trying to do my job as your man.”

  She lean over and kiss the side of my face. “I’m fine.”

  She make everything sound so easy, when it ain’t. When she finally finish the last braid, she say, “There’s more food. Are you ready for seconds?”

  “Nah, I ain’t all that hungry, but I could go for some more of that pie. I swear, your moms gonna make me fat.”

  She laugh. “One big piece of pie coming right up.” She leave the room and, without even hardly thinking ‘bout what I’m doing, I grab her schoolbag off the floor and start searching it for letters. If she ain’t gonna tell me what’s going on at that school, I’ma find out my damn self.

  Novisha bag got all kinds of sections and pockets with zippers and shit. I start with the big section, taking out her notebooks and shaking them out. Then I go through the small pockets and find a letter right away, folded up real small. I open it, and all it say is, “You know you want it.” Damn. This nigga getting raw now. How he gonna talk to my girl like this?

  When I get to the last pocket, I pull out some kinda small notebook that got ASSIGNMENTS on it. I flip through to see if she got any more letters stuck in there, but there ain’t none. But then I see what she be writing in that notebook. Damn. It’s another goddamn diary.

  I open to the last page:

  I don’t know what to do about Jamal anymore.

  That’s all I get to see before Novisha rip the diary out my hands. “What are you doing? I can’t believe you’re going through my stuff!” She drop the plate of sweet potato pie on the floor, she that mad.

  “How many diaries you got?” I ask her. I ain’t screaming or nothing, but I’m talking kinda loud. “What you need that one for?”

  “Shh.” She roll her eyes at me. “You have no right going through my bag.”

  I lower my voice ‘cause I don’t want her moms or pops to hear us, but she ain’t the only one that’s heated. “Answer my question. What you need another diary for?”

  “For privacy, what do you think?” She holding the little diary real close to her body now, like it’s a football or something. “I need a diary that nobody else is gonna read.”

  “Nobody else, like me?”

  She nod. “Yeah.”

  “Let me see it,” I say. “We not s’posed to have no secrets from each other. Ain’t that what we said?”

  “Well, what about the party you’re throwing tomorrow night? You didn’t tell me about that.”

  Fuck.

  “I live right here. In Bronxwood. You think everyone is gonna know about a big party and I’m not gonna find out?”

  I can’t believe this shit. “Who told you?”

  “Everyone. But the first person was Patrick. He talked to me about it like I already knew. And Cal and his brothers have been telling everyone. I heard two girls talking about it yesterday at the laundromat.”

  “Why you ain’t say nothing?”

  “Because I wanted to see if you would tell me yourself. And you didn’t. So, if you can keep things to yourself, why can’t I?”

  She got me. I don’t know what to say to that one. “I ain’t tell you ‘cause I know all you gonna do is worry ‘bout me. I was gonna tell you after the party was over.”

  “Well, don’t think about calling me from jail. I’m not your mother. I won’t go through that with you.”

  She take her little diary and leave the room. A second later I hear her talking to Troy all nice and friendly. I don’t know how she do that. Just flip like that. ‘Cause me, I’m pissed. Pissed that she keeping that diary from me. Pissed that she know ‘bout the party. I mean, I ain’t saying it’s right, but sometimes a brotha gotta keep shit to hisself. But what a female need to keep secrets for? There ain’t no reason for that. Never.

  It take me ‘bout ten minutes to cool myself down a little. I sit on the chair for a while just telling myself to relax, but inside I’m boiling. I don’t get what’s going on between me and Novisha. Things is definitely changing, and I just want everything to go back to how they was before.

  When I come out the room, Troy say, “Look, Ty.” He still at the computer. “I’m doing Spanish.”

  Novisha is kneeling next to him, but she don’t look up at me. She just stare at the screen like she don’t wanna face me.

  “That’s good,” I tell Troy. I stand over him and watch him for a couple minutes. The voice on the computer is calling out colors in Spanish, and Troy gotta click on the picture that match the color. Verde, turtle. Amarillo, sun.

  “You’re learning so fast,” Novisha say. The diary is right there on the floor by the desk. Man, she really protecting that shit.

  “I wanna learn really, really fast,” Troy say. “My girlfriend can talk good Spanish.”

  Novisha laugh. “Oh, you have a girlfriend, huh? That’s so cute.”

  “And when I grow up, I’m gonna marry her.”

  “Wow. Is she pretty, your girlfriend?”

  “Uh-huh. Pretty and beautiful. I never saw any girl as pretty as her.”

  Oh, shit. I’m now getting who Troy talking ‘bout. “Finish playing the game,” I tell him real fast. “’Cause we gonna hafta leave soon.”

  “But I want the church girl to hear me talk Spanish.”

  Novisha look at me, hard, like she ‘bout to accuse me of something, but she ain’t sure yet. “The church girl?” she ask Troy, still looking at me. “The girl you and your brother went to church with on Sunday?”

  “Yeah, her.”

  “And she’s very pretty?”

  “Yeah,” Troy say. “When she smiling, she is real pretty. But she cry when she get scared. That’s why Ty has to sleep in her room, so she won’t get scared all by herself.”

  Novisha look at me with the widest eyes I ever seen. It’s like she don’t know what to think or do. Finally she grab her diary, stand up, and run to her room.

  I follow after her. “It ain’t what you thinking,” I tell her when I get in her room. I say it real low ‘cause the door still open.

  “You lied to me, Ty. You said she was ugly, and now I find out she’s pretty and you’re sleeping with her!” Novisha is whispering, but she screaming at the same time. I don’t know how she do it, but she good at it.

  “I ain’t sleeping with her. I’m just sleeping in her room ‘cause she all alone. She got two separate beds and I don’t be touching her or nothing. And she a religious girl. A church girl.” Novisha still looking real mad, so I keep going. “The girl was scared to be alone, so I’m just, like, her guard dog or something, you know. And I don’t even got a bed in my room. They only got two beds in there, so where I’m s’posed to sleep? On the floor? With the roaches?” There still ain’t no change in her face. Man, I’m screwed. Then I start talking faster, and can’t stop myself no matter what. “And she is ugly. She fat and she got acne all over her face, and she got braces. And she Puerto
Rican. You know I’m only into sistahs. I mean, you. You the only sistah I’m into. You, with your fine self. I don’t want nobody but you. Nobody.”

  “Ty, I wanna be alone. Can you just leave me alone?”

  “A’ight. That’s a’ight. But you gotta believe me ‘cause I ain’t lying. There ain’t nothing going on between me and that ugly girl. Honest. I’m innocent.”

  Novisha put her hands on her hips. “Are you wrongfully accused?” She trying to be smart now. “Just like your father?”

  “Nah,” I say. “That nigga guilty. I ain’t.”

  She sit on her bed and she look like she ain’t even hearing me. She tuning me out.

  I don’t know what to do, stay or go. But I ain’t gonna just stand there like some punk, so I just say, “I’ma call you tomorrow, a’ight?”

  She still don’t say nothing, so I walk out the room. If she think I’ma beg her to talk to me, she could forget that shit. I’m out. The good thing is my moms is ready to leave too. She thanking Ms. Jenkins for dinner and getting Troy to do the same thing. All of a sudden she know how to act.

  And my moms is holding a whole sweet potato pie wrapped up in foil. Man, we gonna have pie for days. If them roaches don’t get at it first. And I don’t know how, but Ms. Jenkins got her ex-husband to drive us all the way back to Bennett, so least we ain’t gonna hafta get on the train.

  In the car, Troy is ‘sleep before we even get to the Bruckner. Me and him is in the backseat and he got his head on my shoulder. While my moms and Mr. Jenkins talk ‘bout how much Bronxwood changed and all that, I’m just thinking ‘bout the way Novisha looked right before I left. She looked like she was through with me. And that look hurt.

  And I’m thinking ‘bout that little diary she got. Who the fuck is Jamal? He the guy that be writing them letters to her? And if the fake diary is for her moms to read, and this new diary is for her own privacy, then who she writing that diary on her desk for? The one that was s’posed to be her real diary? She just been writing all that shit for me to read? ‘Cause that would be fucked up.