Everything inside of me said I was stupid for taking this. I knew I needed to walk away, especially since I grew up on my father’s saying boys not ’spose to hit girls. The problem was I also grew up on, don’t do what I do, do what I tell you, because every Friday night, before my father died from cancer, he would beat my mother like she stole something.
But then again this isn’t really the same thing that my parents went through. I mean…we don’t live together…and we aren’t married. Ameen is nothing like my daddy was when he would get drunk. Ameen only yoked me up once or twice…okay and maybe he just mushed me…but still, there are times when I did defend myself. I’m not all weak like my mother.
I turned the radio up to drown out my sorrows and that’s when I looked at my gas gauge and realized it was on empty…oh…my…God…
2
Energy…This love is taking all of my energy…
—KERI HILSON, “ENERGY”
I couldn’t wait to get home and cry in peace. The fight with Ameen was messing with every part of my being and I felt like…like…I couldn’t think straight and if I didn’t get my relationship back on track I was sure to wither into a thousand pieces.
I parked my car and walked to my neighbor’s house to pick up my ten-year-old sister, Hadiah, who resembled a young Raven Symoné and was way too grown for her age. We were close, though, especially since more times than not my mother wasn’t home and it felt like all we had was each other.
I rang my neighbor, Ms. Lucinda’s, bell. She was a sweet old lady who kept Hadiah a few hours after school until I picked her up. A few seconds later Ms. Lucinda opened the door and Hadiah was standing there, giving me the eye as if to say “what took you so long?” But hmph, she would have to understand I was going through some things.
“Thank you, Ms. Lucinda,” I said.
“You’re welcome, baby.” She smiled.
Hadiah waved and Ms. Lucinda closed the door.
“Yo,” Hadiah said to me as I unlocked our front door and we walked inside. “Ms. Lucinda had me in there watching Wheel of Fortune and learning how to knit. I swear I can’t take it.” She wiped her brow. “What in the world took you so long?”
“Ms. Lucinda is a nice lady. Plus me and Ameen had an argument so I am not in the mood for your sarcasm.”
“You two are always arguing,” Hadiah said, exhausted. “And I may only be ten, but when Michael, my boyfriend in class, kept wanting to argue and every time I turned around he was showing off on the school playground, I dumped him. Maybe you should think about that.”
“When you’re seventeen you can talk to me about my boyfriend. Until then, do your homework.”
“I finished my homework.”
“Okay, well watch some television.”
“I can’t. I keep hearing Wheel of Fortune music in my head. I need to do something else.”
“Well, you figure it out while I warm up the dinner Mommy cooked.”
Hadiah followed me into the kitchen, sat down at the table, and proceeded to tell me the happenings of fourth grade as if anything they were going through compared to my drama.
Not for one minute can I tell you what she said. My mind was too busy replaying the argument I had with my man.
I warmed up the dinner of chicken, corn, and collards that my mother cooked and left for us in the refrigerator. Lately, leaving cold dinners behind was all my mother was sure to do. Anything other than that was up for negotiation. She was never home on time or at a reasonable hour. True, she was a corrections officer for Northern State Prison, and, yes, she worked evenings, but it seemed as if we never got to see her anymore.
She was never here to know what we were doing, how we were doing, or what was going on. I used to fill her in on my day until she started falling asleep on me and then I figured if she wasn’t interested, then to hell with it. Besides me and my moms never really kicked it like that anyway.
I always felt angry with her, as if she was the cause of most of my problems. Like how, after my dad died of cancer last year, she up and moved us into this house. She didn’t ask how we felt or what we thought, she just moved us, and I felt like she was in a rush to leave my dad’s memory behind in that dusty apartment. That’s when my brother, Derrick, joined the army and never came back, leaving me and Hadiah here with my mother by ourselves.
And no, my dad wasn’t the best, but he was mine, and up until he died he was always here when we came home; he always seemed interested in what we did and what we had to do. But, as I sat there with my sister in that lonely house, with tears sitting at the base of my eyes, I realized more than ever that all we have in this world is one another.
I watched my sister eat because with tears dancing on my tongue, I couldn’t put a morsel of food in my mouth. “I’m going to bed,” I said to her.
“Me too.” She cleared the table and then looked at the chore chart that hung on the pantry door. “Tonight is your night to wash the dishes.”
“Well, it’ll have to wait until tomorrow because I’m tired.”
I rose from my chair, practically ran into my room, and as soon as I closed the door tears slid down my face. I looked at the clock and counted the hours that had passed since me and Ameen fell out. I couldn’t fight it anymore. I needed to call Ameen at least once…yeah, that’s it…only once, and if he doesn’t answer then forget it. I definitely won’t be sweatin’ him.
I picked up my phone and called him only to get his voice mail. I swallowed the ache in my chest and tried my best to make it go away.
I changed into my silk pajamas, cut the radio on, and laid in my bed. Then it hit me, if I called Ameen one more time, he just might answer…so I did…and nothing. I hung up. A few seconds later I called again…. No answer. Forget it, I’m done. If he doesn’t call me then, oh well, his loss.
I laid still for a few moments, and then I turned back over and looked at the phone. Okay…maybe just one more time and he’ll answer. One more time ended up being a thousand times, and the last time I called the phone didn’t even ring, his voice mail simply picked up. Which could only mean one thing; he’d turned his phone off.
I felt so stupid.
I returned to staring at the ceiling, and the last thing I remembered before I fell asleep was the radio playing slow jams and wondering how long it would take to put my life back together again.
“Zsa-Zsa La-Shae Fields, get out that bed!” stunned me out of my sleep. Instantly I sat straight up. I felt like I’d been fighting a war instead of coming around from being asleep. My eyes felt heavy, and my heart was racing. I couldn’t see clearly, but I could swear I heard my mother’s voice.
“And I mean get up right now!” Now I knew for sure that was my mother. I still couldn’t see clearly, but I could see well enough to read the electric red numbers on my alarm clock, which said 2:00 AM. I didn’t respond to my mother’s invasive voice because obviously, unless this was an extreme emergency, the chick was trippin’. I grabbed my pillow, snuggled under my blanket, and closed my eyes.
“I know you heard me!” She snatched the covers off of me and then yanked the pillow.
Now it was on. I turned over and sat up. “Are you for real, comin’ in here like this?!”
“You better shut your fresh mouth and get up to wash those dishes! It was your night to clean the kitchen and you just left it a mess!” She clinched her jaw. “I want you up and those dishes washed. Now!” She flicked the light on and I swore I went blind.
I