GRIND (The Silver Nitrate Series Book 1) (18 page)

Yes, I’ll remember it for both of us…

M
ama’s house smelled
like crisp, fried bacon. A large metal pan of meat sat on the stove, the fat bubbling on the thick, maple and cedar flavored strips as it seared from the popping grease. Mama’s house was filled with hysterical laughter and chilled glasses of white wine paired with the latest neighborhood gossip. Silver waited for the woman on her cobalt couch, the one that smelled of ginger lotion and hair grease.

“You’ve been doing hair on this sofa again… I can smell it.” Silver sniffed the air a bit harder. The odor of burnt tresses lingered ever so lightly, blending in with the bacon aroma. “Flat comb, too?”

“Erica’s daughter was over here,” Mama explained as she sashayed her skinny, tall self into the living room with a cigarette in one hand and a little Debbie oatmeal cookie in the other. They sat side by side. “You know I don’t do no damn hair but her shit looked a mess… matted. Erica shouldn’t have ever had no baby by a black man if she couldn’t understand what would be involved.”

“Did you tell her she needed to learn how to do her daughter’s hair? I mean, damn, Mama. Sammy’s hair looked pretty bad the last time I saw her, too.”

“You know I did!” her mother said with an attitude as she leaned back and crossed her legs. The sweet treat was soon unraveled; she worked the plastic wrapping off it, exposing it like some paid hooker for a quick sugar high. Taking a mouthful, she smacked loudly then swallowed hard. “I said ‘Look, Erica, I know you one of those free spirit type people, but when it comes to hair, that’s not something you can just let go. Sammy’s hair isn’t part of the live and let live philosophy, Ms. Erica. Her hair was so tangled the last time, they asked her to audition for the Disney movie by the same name.”

Silver burst out laughing then reached for her mother’s snack.

“Let me have a bite.”

“You’re ’bout as bad as Topaz.” With her lips twisted in annoyance, she gave the cookie over to her. Silver wasted no time in sinking her teeth into the thing, savoring the morsel, enjoying the way the cheap, sugary cream spread around in her mouth.

“Look at that! You ask for some of my damn cookie and then eat practically the whole thing. Gimme my shit back!”

The woman snatched it out of Silver’s grip. Smiling, Silver patted at the side of her mouth, wiping away a few crumbs.

“So, how have you been?” Mama asked as she took a small puff of her cigarette, then tapped the ashes into the nearby tray.

“Good, busy with work.”

“How’s Clara?” She rolled her eyes.

“Mama.” Silver shook her head. “She isn’t bad! Hey, she was the one that helped me around Syracuse when I first moved there. We just clicked. And she actually is pretty smart and we get along well for the most part. Why don’t you like her?”

“She just acts so stuck on herself, like she’s cute… It’s not that I dislike her; she just annoys me. I shouldn’t have said I didn’t like her…but I’m glad she’s there for you, so I guess I should call the hitman and call it all off.”

“Mama, that’s not right! She’s Clara… annoying but loved. Hey, speaking of which, she and I went out and—”

“Wait… you went out? Let me call a priest or something because I need an exorcism done! You can’t be my Silver! The woman who doesn’t do anything but look at computers all day.”

“Mama stop playing!” Silver giggled.

The lady rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You can’t blame me. I thought you were done with that scene. I’m glad you went though; I don’t like you cooped up in that house all the time…done moved your ass all the way out to Syracuse. You can keep that shit. Syracuse… Lord. So what did y’all do when you went out?”

“We went to a club… had drinks, danced.”

“You ain’t meet no men?”

“Mama…”

“What?”

“Anyway, it’s a long story but yes, I met someone and we’re going out soon.”

Her mother’s lips curved in a wicked grin. “What’s his name?”

“Zenith.”

“Hmmm, that’s different. I kind of dig it. What does he look like?”

“Well, he’s tall, like 6′2 or 6′3. He’s got long black hair… really pretty eyes; they’re dark… real dark. He’s uh, well, like a light reddish brown complexion… He’s just,” she smiled down onto her lap, “sexy. Tattoos… a drummer… and he is a welder.”

“Mmmmm, is he black?” her mother asked, her brow raised ever so slightly. “I can’t really tell from your description.”

“No, I believe he’s Indian, but I never confirmed it with him. He might be Hispanic but I’m leaning more towards Indian.”

“Indian like the little red dot in the middle of the head Indian or Indian like hey yay, hey yah, hey yah, hey yah!”

“Mama, that’s racist! I can’t believe you’d even say something like that.” Silver’s lips cocked in a half smirk as she stared the lady up and down.

“Well, I’m not tryin’ to be, shit!” She took another puff of her cigarette. “I’m just trying to see which one he is.”

“Native Indian.”

“Hmmm, he sounds like he might be cute.”

“He is. You should hear him play the drums though, whew!”

“That good, huh?”

“Yes!” She leaned back onto the couch and stared up at the ceiling, sighing.

“Watch yourself. Musicians can be kinda hoeish.”

“Thanks for the heads up, Mama.” Silver shook her head.

“I hope you have a good time.” Her mother patted her leg softly. “Now, let’s eat this brunch I made.”

“Sounds like a plan.” They got up from the couch and made their way into the small kitchen area. As soon as they entered, Mama put her hand on her shoulder and said, “I don’t care what it takes, but I need to see that light back in your eyes. It won’t come back because of a man, a promotion, or a damn bike. It’s going to come back because you
let
it. Now, sit down and say grace. We’ve got a lot to be thankful for…”

…The following morning

“The seasons have
names.”

“I know; winter, spring, summer and fall.” He looked at the old man, his hair still long and slightly straggly against his shoulders. Paw thought better of it, and instead purchased apples, pears, fresh berries and nuts from his retreat at the market. He insisted he’d never said he wanted a haircut. Zenith was in no mood to argue the point…

“No, my mother and father followed the Longhouse religion and traditions. We are thankful for each season, and each season is celebrated.” Paw paused and looked wearily towards the window that was covered in a thin veil of frost, then back at him. “Everything has its season. Planting Moon, Moon of the Fallen Leaves, Maple Moon, and—”

“Corn Harvest Moon,” Zen finished.

Paw’s lips curled in a satisfied smile. “Yes, Corn Harvest Moon. People, the animals, the water, the soil, it all has seasons, Zen. I’ll have an end of season, your parents had an end of season, and—”

“No. Don’t.” Zenith abruptly rose from his seat and dumped his half eaten cereal down into the deep basin sink. The soppy corn flakes had lost their shape, becoming mush, and hiding their previous crunch and star-like form. “I don’t want to talk about this.” He turned the cool water on, let it run hot, and shoved the mawkish mess down into the garbage disposal drain with the tip of his spoon.

“But you
never
want to, and we never have. It’s time. You know, your father was a—”

“Stop it.” Zenith turned abruptly towards the man, burning with rage as his fingertips dripped with sudsy runoff. His damn chest heated with waves of unreleased sorrow, and choppy pangs of insurmountable hurt gripped his ribs and massaged them roughly, without care. “I don’t want to talk about this, and I’m not going to. I’m going to be late for work if I don’t head out soon. Denise will be here in a bit, anyway. You better finish up.” He grabbed the bottle of Palmolive and plopped a green glop in the middle of the bowl before working it over with a worn white sponge. The indentations and crevices reminded him of the surface of the moon… That sounded like a wonderful place right about then; anywhere was better than where he stood.

“You must!” Paw pounded the small table, snatching him out of his otherworldly daydream. Zenith hated and loved him all at once. “He was my son! Your mother was my daughter-in-law! They were good people! You are not
allowed
to not honor them! You must. In death and in life.”

“I’m not allowed to not honor them?! What? I can do whatever the hell I want to do!”

“Zen!”

“I can deal with it however I want to, you hear me?” He pointed angrily at him. “Neither you nor
any
body else can tell someone how to work out the loss of their parents. You had yours, you don’t know what it is like, and how it went down is bullshit! Your parents died of natural causes. You got to see them get old and say your proper goodbyes. You were an adult by the time they were gone.”

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself and deal with this.”

“I don’t feel sorry for myself. I don’t feel any way about it at all. Don’t matter either way, because at the time it was the worst thing ever and you wanna sit over there and try to tell me how to cope and what to feel. You ain’t me and my feelings about it aren’t anyone’s business but my own. I’ll tell you this much, though. Your son was a motherfucker and a goddamn liar!”

“Zen! Don’t you disrespect me or your father like this!” The old man trembled with anger. But Zen no longer cared…

“Why? He sure as hell didn’t respect me or Mom.” He shrugged. “You have no damn idea what I went through, the trauma! He was a fraud!”

“He was a good man, a decent man, Zenith. Don’t say one more bad word about him, do you hear me? How dare you!”

“I’m not allowed to not sugar coat this shit, you mean.” Zenith stabbed a finger at his chest. “My father fucked up and fucked the entire family up. You want to try to turn this into something it’s not. Do you know the kind of bullshit I dealt with as a kid because of this shit, huh?! Don’t you remember me comin’ home from school crying? Not to even count the fact that some of those assholes thought it would be funny to make fun of me for no longer havin’ any parents, too!

“Like the shit was funny… I was too young to understand what was going on but it took some cruel ass little bastard to give it to me straight. At least
somebody
was telling the truth around here.”