Hustlin, p.6
Hustlin', page 6
Working with Netta’s going to be a lesson all its own, and with Mama right here I’m sure I’ll get the lessons of a lifetime. I’m just glad to be here and close to home for a change, even if it does mean more work for me. That’s just how the hustle goes sometimes, I guess. And we hood folks know all about getting our hustle on.
4
Straight Outa Compton
“Niggaz start to mumble, they wanna rumble/
Mix em and cook em in a pot like gumbo.”
—N.W.A.
I didn’t get a chance to talk to Mickey or Nellie at all because of my AP meetings all day yesterday. Now that they’re not talking again, it’s going to be difficult hanging out. I thought after the game this past weekend everyone would resume chill status, but I was so wrong. Rah has been busier than ever, trying to get as much paper as he can in his hands before the holidays and before his court date. He’s got a good lawyer, but she’s not free. I miss Rah when he’s not around, but I understand all too well about getting your hustle on.
Speaking of hustling, Mickey’s ain’t so tight these days. All of her drama is seeping into other people’s lives, including mine, and my school friends are already too close to home as it is. I was always uncomfortable with the fact that we all live in the same hood and go to a white school outside of Compton. The other students got in on an out-of-district voucher program at our local high school, but my mom applied for it too late and had to use a friend’s address to get me into South Bay. It’s a volatile mix, mainly because the hating doesn’t stop. There are only a few black students at the entire school, making it easy to spread news quickly no matter where we are.
And now with my girls hating each other, it’s going to be even more uncomfortable around Nellie, Mickey, and their men. Part of me wants to take sides, but I can’t. I’m the only one thinking clearly. Between Mickey’s pregnancy hormones and Nellie’s jealousy, I don’t know what’s going to happen next.
“What’s taking you so long in there, princess? Other people have places to be too,” Bryan says, interrupting my morning bathroom time. He’s got some nerve rushing me, considering how long it takes his primping behind when he gets in here.
“Now I know you’re not talking. If I didn’t know how you look, I’d say you were a pretty boy judging from how long you’re up in this mirror.” There are only three mirrors in this house: the one in the bathroom, the one above the dining room table, and the one in Mama’s room. None of them are full length, but I usually stand on top of the clothes hamper in here to get a full view of my outfits.
I gather all of my toiletries, pajamas, and purse, ready to clear out anyway. Today is the first dress rehearsal for Macbeth, and I want to get to school on time to try to catch Mrs. Sinclair in the drama room. I’m anxious to see my costume, and want to lay my hands on it before Laura gets her clutches in the mix. I want to make sure my ashe is all over that dress.
“Shut your jaw jacking and hurry the hell up. I got to get on the corner before I get to work,” Bryan says.
“When are you going to get a legal hustle and give up your non-job on the corner?” I ask. One more look in the mirror and I’ll let him in. Whoever said beauty couldn’t be rushed obviously didn’t live in a house full of dudes.
“It is legal, baby girl. I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not talking about that. Besides, when did I ever need to stand on the corner to slang a dime bag?” He and Rah have had the same side hustle for as long as I can remember. The shame is that Rah’s game is much tighter than Bryan’s when it comes to slanging herb. But it still doesn’t make it right, and it isn’t a good choice for either one of them. “And why you all up in my grill this morning? Get out now, Jayd. I gotta go.”
“Whatever, punk,” I say, opening the door slightly and taking my time just to piss him off.
“Haven’t you heard of respecting your elders?” Bryan is more like my older brother than my uncle. How can he expect me to take him seriously?
“Haven’t you heard of acting your age and not your shoe size?” I push him out of the doorway to make my way back into the room he and Jay share with Daddy. I place my things back into one of the three Hefty garbage bags I use to hold my stuff in the room’s smallest closet and close the door.
“Whatever, smart-ass,” Bryan says, stepping into the bathroom and laying his things down on the hamper.
I step into the hallway, ready to grab a banana from the kitchen and head out the door. I pull the bathroom door shut, pissing Bryan off even more.
“I just know you better start showing a little respect around here, that’s all I’m saying,” he says, reopening the door so I can hear him clearly. “By the way, my girl likes my braids,” he says, rubbing his hands across the cornrows still tight under his do-rag. “When can I get a touch up?”
“I don’t know, maybe tonight.” I’m already exhausted enough as it is, and I have a lot of work on my plate. “I start working at Netta’s tomorrow after school and then Rah’s taking me to my mom’s for the weekend.”
“What’s up with your mom? How come lil Lynn never has us over? She acts like she ain’t my sis no more.”
I live with four of my mom’s six brothers and truth be told, I don’t think of her as their sister either. My mom only comes over on Christmas Eve and Mother’s Day, just like everyone else who wants to stay on Mama’s good side.
“I have a feeling she’ll be coming over here before she’ll invite anyone over her house. You know my mom likes her privacy.”
“And her men,” Bryan says, sounding like my dad, but I know Bryan doesn’t have any venom behind his words.
“Just one man, and he’s cool—a real gentleman. You could learn a thing or two from him.” Speaking of which, my mom better get over here soon for her reading or Mama will find a way to my mom’s house in Inglewood.
“Whatever. If he ain’t big pimping, that nigga can’t teach me shit. I got my swagger tight, you feel me, girl?”
What is it with dudes and their swaggers? If I hear one more brotha talk about their pimp stroll or gangster lean, I’m going to scream.
“No, I don’t.” I gather my backpack and jacket from the dining room table, ready for my morning walk to the bus stop. Leaving through the back door is inconvenient because I have to fight my way out the back gate, which has been broken ever since I can remember. But it beats having to look into Esmeralda’s evil eyes any day.
“I know you feel me Jayd. I can respect your frontin’, even if there’s no future in it. Don’t forget about me tonight, Jayd. And maybe I’ll even come by the shop and give you some work. All it takes is one steady client to get the ball rolling.” Bryan turns on the faucet to get the hot water running. It takes a minute for the hot water heater to warm up.
“That’ll be cool, if Netta lets me. Right now, I’m strictly the helper—but we’ll see, since you’re family and all.” I can remember from my mom’s own spirit journal entries that Netta doesn’t like traffic in her shop, unlike other salons I know of. Mickey had an incident in her old salon and couldn’t go back because of all the drama she and her man created there one day. I already know Netta’s not having nothing like that in her space.
“Bet, Jayd. Now get on before I’m late for the van. My boy Carlos got a sweet deal on Christmas baskets and them ugly-ass Cabbage Patch Kid dolls. We’re going to sell them in the back of the alley behind Miracle Market. You should come and check us out. You might see something you like.” Knockoff Cabbage Patch Kid dolls and Christmas baskets out the back of a van. That’s the best hustle I’ve seen since my Uncle Junior, the oldest of Mama and Daddy’s children who also lives in the den with two other uncles, was selling DSL routers and tube socks in the same spot last year.
These brothas around here always got something going. That’s why I love my hood. I can find everything I need within walking distance if I’m not too picky or particular about where it came from. So what if the router’s not in a box and the socks are two sizes too big? If it works, I’m happy to stay ignorant about the origin.
“I’ll check y’all out after school. Maybe I can pick up something for Mickey’s baby.” It’ll be nice to have a baby to shop for again. Ever since my little cousin Nailah was born eight years ago, there hasn’t been another baby girl around to pamper. My mom, Mama, and I all love to shower little girls with gifts. If Rah’s daughter were around more, I’d probably do the same thing for her. And with the way Rah’s concentrating on fighting for sole custody of his daughter, I better get my cash straight because I have a feeling I’ll be seeing her soon.
“Mickey still trying to figure out who the daddy is?” I see Bryan’s caught up on the neighborhood gossip. This city’s too small to keep hot news quiet for long.
“I think she’s already settled on that one.”
Bryan gives me a look of recognition. I know he’s been down the maybe-baby-daddy path before and he knows better than to run around without covering up now.
“Well, she’d better make sure. Everyone knows how crazy her man is. It’s only a matter of time before he gets wind of her creeping.” Bryan takes his toiletries out of their Ziploc bag and arranges them neatly on the bathroom sink. The steam coats the bag, making it appear cloudy, just like my mind is when it comes to the drama between my girls.
“Yeah, Mickey’s on Nigel’s jock hard. I hope she tells her man soon. Maybe her truth won’t be so catastrophic if she tells him herself. But they’re not hiding a thing. Mickey was Nigel’s biggest cheerleader at the game last weekend and kicks it with him all of the time.”
“Ah yeah, I heard Rah and them kicked KJ’s ass on the court last weekend. I never thought I’d see the day KJ lost a game of one-on-one. But if anyone could do it, it would be your boy, Rah. I really think he missed his calling,” Bryan says. Little does he know that Rah’s missed a lot of things lately. “I hope KJ’s ego isn’t bruised too badly.”
“Now you and I both know KJ’s head needed deflating. I’m just glad I was there to witness it.” And, with Mr. Adewale and Jeremy there, I was really in heaven that day. Too bad Misty, Sandy, and Trish showed up. But even they couldn’t burst my bubble.
“Yeah, but you know that a nigga with a bruised ego is the most dangerous nigga out there. You tell Mickey to remember that shit when she breaks the news to her man. I’ll holla at you tonight.”
As Bryan tends to his morning ritual, I begin my trek through the kitchen and out the back door. Lexi’s lounging in her usual spot at the bottom of the back porch steps, chewing on a bone she dug up from only she knows where.
“Bryan’s got a good point, huh girl,” I say to Mama’s dog before unlocking the dilapidated gate. If we don’t latch both locks on the back of the wooden gate, both of the doors will swing open all day long. Last time I left the gate open, Lexi ended up pregnant. Mama finally got her spayed last year, but that was after she’d given birth to four litters. Mama says even Lexi’s affected by Oshune’s fertile powers. Lexi looks up at me, making sure I lock the gate before returning to her bone. Must be nice to live pretty much drama-free. Too bad we all can’t live in a canine’s reality.
By the time I got to school, it was too late for me to run down to the drama room to try on my dress. I guess I’ll have to wait until lunch like everyone else. It’s already break and I’m itching to see my costume but, as usual, Mrs. Sinclair’s nowhere to be found. She lives around the corner and goes home to visit her babies any time she can, break included. I don’t know how she keeps up her busy schedule, but she does it like a pro. I know her ex-husband, Mr. Sinclair, hates hearing from his students—Chance and Jeremy included—about how happy she is. But that’s what he gets for cheating on her and treating her like crap when they were married.
I need to build with Mickey about how she’s going to deal with her man and Nigel, but that conversation will have to wait until another time. I didn’t feel like dealing with either of my girls today, so I’m going to spend the rest of my time in the library digging up more information on Queen Califia via Mr. Adewale’s college paper. I tried to catch up with Ms. Toni, but she was out of her office. She’s been busy with the drama festival and her regular duties as ASB advisor. But we have to talk soon. I have a lot to catch up with her about. I haven’t talked to her about Mickey or Rah in a while and I could use some of her wisdom.
“Please check your bag at the front desk,” the ancient librarian says to me as I pass by her station.
“Since when do we have to leave our backpacks?” I notice the new set of cabinets behind the librarian’s counter. There are only a handful of students present and all of the computers are available, so I should be able to get done pretty quickly. I just want to print out whatever I can find on the web. I’ll finish my research and bibliography before the week is out. Our papers are due the last week of school, and that’s only two weeks away. Time sure does fly when I’m procrastinating.
“Since my books, magazines, and other things are starting to come up missing.”
The way she looks at me tells me she thinks I might be one of the kleptomaniacs. As much as I’m in here, I could jack her ass, but that ain’t how I roll.
“Please take a number and leave your bag in the corresponding cubby. You can take your books out and take them with you while you work, if need be.”
Ain’t this some shit? I’m already down to the last ten minutes and I don’t want to waste anymore time.
I take a seat at the computer closest to the cubby where my bag is. If there are kleptos on the loose, I don’t want them getting my stuff either, especially not my charm bags and other spiritual items. Not that anyone would know what to do with them. But just the thought of someone touching my personal items bugs the hell out of me.
I take Mr. Adewale’s card out of my purse and type in the web address listed for his graduate school. He must be hella smart to get a master’s degree from the University of West LA. I hear they have a rigorous academic program. When his page pops up, a list of every publication he’s written appears on the side of the page.
Fine and talented—just how I like my men, I think to myself as I search his page. The Califia paper is second to last in the long list of titles. I’ll just print this out and read it later. Before I open the twenty-five page document, I notice the title “Voodoo Vixens” among the forty-plus documents and click on it.
“What the hell?” I scroll the document quickly, recognizing some of the names from our spirit book at home, Maman Marie’s name included. “What does he know about my lineage and why is he calling my great-grandmother a vixen?” Now I’m going to have to break out five dollars to print both documents, but I have a feeling it’ll be worth it.
“There’s the warning bell,” the librarian says, her shrill voice slicing the quiet air. “Please don’t forget to claim your bags before exiting the building.” The printer releases the pages on her side of the counter. Noticing the content of my papers, her eyebrows rise and she looks a few shades whiter than she did when I walked in. I wonder if campus gossip reaches the ears of the librarian too?
“How much do I owe you?” I ask, taking my wallet out of my Lucky purse and giving her my number for my bag’s freedom. She looks at me like she’s afraid to speak and turns around to gather my backpack and print outs.
“It’ll be five dollars, young lady.” Instead of handing me my items, she places them on the counter in front of me. Now, any other time she would have given it directly to me, but I guess she’s afraid to touch me now. And that’s just fine with me. Mama doesn’t like too many folks touching us anyway. She says everyone’s ashe isn’t so easy to wash off.
“Thank you.” I pass her the cash and retrieve my bag and papers from the counter. I can’t wait to read all of this info and grill Mr. A about it the first chance I get.
Before I reach the main hall to cut through the senior quad toward government class, I notice Mr. A walking in the same direction from the main office. It’s nice seeing him around campus so regularly, especially since Ms. Toni’s so busy lately. I also think she’s still disappointed in me for dating Jeremy, but what can I say? There’s definitely something about Jeremy’s swagger that moves me. Bryan could learn a thing or two from Jeremy about how to treat a girl.
“Good morning, Miss Jackson,” Mr. Adewale says, falling into step with me, both of us quickening our pace to beat the bell.
“Good morning, Mr. Adewale. Or should I say, Mr. Voodoo Vixen Investigator extraordinaire.”
Noticing my sarcasm, Mr. A stops in his tracks and looks down at me, his hazel eyes shimmering in the hazy sunlight. It was cloudy a little while ago, but the late-morning sun is melting away the gloom, giving Mr. Adewale a healthy glow.
“I see you’ve finally gotten around to doing your research. So, tell me what you found out.” Mr. Adewale opens the classroom door, letting me in. Jeremy’s already seated in his usual chair right next to mine. He looks up from his text book, catching my eye. But I really need to talk to Mr. Adewale. I nod “what’s up” and refocus my attention on our substitute teacher.
“Well, I found out that you know more than you’re saying about a lot of things, my lineage included.” I sit down in the chair next to the teacher’s desk and open my backpack to reveal his writings. “I haven’t read them all, but what’s this voodoo vixen paper all about?”
“Good morning, class,” Mr. Adewale says, momentarily ignoring me while quieting the buzzing class. “Today you are to work on your research papers, which are due the week after next. Also, you need to reread chapter fourteen for your quiz tomorrow morning. You can talk quietly if need be, and I’m here if you have any questions.”
