Keep It Movin' (4 page)

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Authors: L. Divine

BOOK: Keep It Movin'
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“
The dress
,” I repeat, looking down at the red fabric on my body and across the room at the gift lying on the hall floor. Before I can stay swept up in the irony of the situation, my great-grandmother tries to make it to the front door, but not without a struggle.
“Marie, I told you I'd never let you go and I meant it. Are you seriously going to try and leave a perfectly good black man for that little snot-nose, white boy? You have really lost your mind, no?”
Maman continues her backward trek to the front door and our eyes continue to follow her. We can see my mom and uncles enjoying their food and having a good time. My cousin Jay is obsessed with the tree we decorated a couple of weeks ago and is taking inventory of the gifts underneath. But Mama and I aren't concerned with the real world as much as we are with the way this impromptu vision of ours will end.
“That white man has been more of a husband to me and a father to Lynn than you will ever be.”
Maman takes the knife and shoves it deeper into the already visible wound across his throat. Apparently amused at her attempt to hurt him, the wicked smile returns to Jon Paul's face.
“Ah, but that's the problem, Marie. I am your husband and Lynn's father, which means you both belong to me, no matter who else you decided to whore yourself out to.”
Jon Paul grabs my great-grandmother's wrist, forcing her to release her hold on the weapon. The baby starts screaming and the smile is wiped clean off of Jon Paul's face upon hearing the loud noise.
“Let go of me,”
Maman yells, but it's no use. He's got a firm grip on her and doesn't look like he's letting go anytime soon.
“I'm not your property.”
“As long as you live you will be mine,”
he says, wrestling her and the baby to the ground, causing baby Lynn to fall out of her mother's grasp. She crawls to sit by the Christmas tree in the dining room, which is very similar in size and stature to the one we actually have now.
“Well, then I'd rather die a free woman than remain a prisoner of yours for the rest of my life.”
Maman's eyes shimmer, causing Jon Paul to look away from her, but he still maintains his grip on her wrist. Noticing how the pretty jade bracelets on her wrist cascade down her slender arm one by one, Jon Paul touches them, causing Maman to shiver. Those are the same bracelets Mama gave me to wear when I needed the extra protection. I hope they help Maman like they helped me.
“Haven't I always said that your wish is my command, Queen Marie?”
Jon Paul pulls the bracelets from Maman's wrist, individually tossing them toward baby Lynn, who hasn't stopped wailing a bit.
“Your legacy will live on through your daughter, since you won't learn how to act like a proper wife.”
“I never wanted to be your wife, Jon Paul, or don't you remember?”
Jon Paul moves his hands from her wrist to around her throat. The glow in Maman's eyes grows more intense the tighter he squeezes. Not able to stand her eyes, he looks away without letting go.
“
No, Maman. Don't
,” Mama says. Tears begin to fall down her cheeks as she relives this moment. I begin to cry as well, even if it's my first time witnessing my great-grandmother's tragic fate. Maman Marie stares at her husband intently, never letting go of her gaze as he tightens his grip around her neck. The veins in Jon Paul's skull begin to pulsate so deeply it looks like they're going to pop right out of his head. What is Maman doing to him?
“Marie,”
Jon Paul grunts, sounding like he's in some serious pain.
“If you want that white man, you can have him in hell!”
“Not without you there to lead the way first,”
Maman whispers, almost on her last breath. Baby Lynn watches the tragedy unfold, unable to help her mother, or so I think. Baby Lynn leans over to grab one of the bracelets and her small, green eyes begin to shimmer just like her mother's. Marie, noticing her daughter's gift, doesn't lose the grip that her green gaze has on her husband but begins to repeat her daughter's name aloud.
“Lynn Mae.”
“Shut up,”
Jon Paul says, trying desperately to squeeze Maman to death, but it doesn't look like it's going to work this time. Just then, the doorbell rings both in our daydream and in real time.
“The white man's gotten bold coming to our home, or has he been here before?”
Jon Paul looks out of the glass windows lining the wooden door, still holding on to his prey. The guest beats on the door, desperately trying to get in. Baby Lynn and Maman continue to stare at Jon Paul and finally he lets go. He opens the door, pulling Maman's lover in before he has a chance to defend himself.
“Marie, are you okay?”
her lover asks, but she's too choked up to say much. Baby Lynn crawls to her mother, still terrified from the traumatic scene we all just witnessed.
“Now she is, ain't that right, Marie?”
Jon Paul says sourly before going back into the bedroom.
“Let's go,”
Maman says. But instead of looking at her lover, she looks dead at Mama and me, snapping us out of her world and back into ours.
 
“Damn,” I whisper under my breath. My head is banging and it's not from my tight ponytail. “What the hell was that?”
“It was a psychic message, Jayd. And your sight must be improving quickly if you were pulled in, too.” Mama says. Neither of us moves from our spot on the couch, quietly acclimating ourselves back into the Christmas Eve celebration going on around us.
“Did anyone else notice?” I ask Mama.
“I doubt it. We may feel like we've been gone forever when actually we were probably out for only a few seconds. You saw what I saw, so you know who this dress originally belonged to, right?”
“Maman Marie.”
“Yes, Jayd. And for some reason it came back to you as a Christmas gift. It's up to you to find out why.” Before we can continue, I notice Jeremy's voice coming from outside. That must've been him knocking at the door. He's earlier than I expected, but it's all good. The time was bound to come sooner or later that my white boy would come to dinner.
“Who's that outside talking to Bryan?” Mama asks, looking out of the window behind our heads at the men outside on the porch, smoking and drinking as usual. Jeremy has made himself comfortable already. Maybe I don't have as much to worry about as I thought.
“That's Jeremy. He's picking me up and we're going to hang out after dinner.”
“What happened to Rah? I thought he was bringing the baby by.”
“He got caught up with Sandy,” I say. Just the thought of them together makes my butt itch.
“You know what happened to Maman when she chose to be with her white lover over my daddy, even if my daddy was the crazier of the two. Be careful, Jayd. Ex men can be more jealous than the current ones.” And don't I know it. Rah acted crazy when I started braiding another dude's hair. I can only imagine how crazy he would act if I fell in love with another boy, especially Jeremy. He would probably go ballistic on a sistah and I can't have that.
“I know, Mama. I'll be careful,” I say, ready to step outside and join my guest. “Would you like to meet my white boy?” I offer Mama my hand on my way up from the couch. We both could use the spiritual and physical support. That vision took a lot out of us both.
“Of course. I think I may have one more bottle of cologne unclaimed under the tree. You could put his name on it,” Mama offers. She always has extra generic gifts for anyone who may happen to drop by.
“I think he's good,” I say, looping my right arm through Mama's left and escorting her out of the front door.
“There she is,” Daddy says, waving his cigar toward Mama and me. The smell of the various types of smoke present is making my already painful headache pound harder.
“Hey Jayd,” Jeremy says. He seems to be enjoying himself already. “Your grandfather was just showing me how to play spades.” Oh, this should be good.
“This is my grandmother, but everyone calls her Mama. And this is Jeremy,” I say, introducing them. Mama eyes Jeremy carefully, taking in the structure of his face and then some.
“It's nice to finally meet you. Jayd speaks very highly of you.” Jeremy reaches his hand out and Mama returns his firm handshake.
“I can say the same thing about you, Jeremy. What's your family doing for Christmas?”
“Oh, we're having a huge brunch in the morning; our traditional thing. Then we'll have our evening free to chill with friends and extended family,” Jeremy says, looking back at me. I'm not sure which category he thinks I'm in, but I'm staying on the safe side with friendship.
“Well, that sounds very nice. Are you hungry? We're about to serve dinner in a few moments.” Mama looks back through the front door toward the kitchen, where Jay's holding it down.
“My wife's one of the best cooks around,” Daddy says, making even my uncles look up at him, surprised he's giving Mama a compliment. But none of us says a word, especially not in front of company. The holidays usually bring out the best in my grandparents and I'm glad for it. If Jeremy came by any other day he'd get the real deal.
“As Jayd has mentioned a couple of hundred times. I can't wait,” Jeremy says, making both Mama and me blush.
“Okay, and until then, Junior, get up and let the boy get a hand in,” Daddy says. My uncle Junior looks at Daddy and then at Jeremy hard before giving up his place at the table. Bryan looks up from his hand at me before dropping his eyes back down and shaking his head disapprovingly. I know I'm going to get a mouthful about this later, hopefully before he tells Rah. All I need is Bryan running his mouth to Rah before I get a chance to tell him. My Christmas will not be very merry if that happens.
“Come on, Jayd. Let's help your cousin finish up in the kitchen,” Mama says, pulling me back inside. “Dinner will be served in ten minutes.”
“So, what do you think?” I ask when we're safely out of earshot.
“I think you'd better be careful.” I shoot Mama a look that makes her eyes soften. I know what she went through as a little girl, but this is different. Rah isn't nearly as crazy as my great-grandfather was.
“
Don't be so sure
,” my mom adds. “
You never know how crazy a man can be until he thinks he's losing you
.”
“Listen to your mother, Jayd. We've all been down this road before and we're just trying to spare you some pain if we can.” Mama looks across the kitchen and out the front door, with Jay's nosy eyes following hers. He rises from his seat at the kitchen table and looks over Mama's shoulder.
“Who's the white boy playing spades?” Jay asks. After placing the rest of the peeled and chopped potatoes in the large pot of boiling water on the stove, he dries his hands on a kitchen towel. I guess Mama had a craving for more mashed potatoes because there's already enough potato salad here to feed an army.
“That's Jeremy,” I say, walking over to the sink and washing my hands. The rolls need to be buttered and it'll be the perfect distraction from everyone's opinion about Jeremy. We're not together anymore, but even our friendship is causing tongues to wag.
“And that's Rah,” Jay says, practically running out the front door. He loves drama way too much for me. I look at Mama's shimmering emerald eyes as she stirs the steamy pot on the stove, shaking her head from side to side.
“It's already begun,” Mama says. I don't know if she's talking to me or some unknown presence in the room, but her tone is frightening.
“Mama, I know Maman and I are dressed alike, but it's not that serious.” But I'm not that naïve. I can feel Rah's heat all the way in here. I'd better get out there before the shit really hits the fan. What's Rah even doing here before he picks Rahima up? Out of all of the days for him to pop up, it had to be the one day Jeremy comes by. What the hell?
“Jayd, there are no coincidences in life,” she says as if she just read my thoughts while carefully eyeing my dress. I think I should change before going out with Jeremy. I'd change now if it were the right thing to do. “Please be careful. You don't know what a tangled web you're weaving with these boys.”
“Mama, I've got this,” I say, smiling at her before exiting the kitchen to face my present mess. Rah really can't say much because had he come through like we originally planned none of this would be happening. But no, as usual I'm left in the background to wait and see what he'll do next. Unfortunately for him, I have options other than to wait for his next move.
“I made my books, fool,” Bryan yells at everyone else around the table. My uncles are always competitive no matter what game they're playing. Bryan's new girlfriend's perched up against his chair, rubbing his braids gently. I guess she's pleased with my work.

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