Life Is Funny (17 page)

“It's not like we hang anymore,” I remind her, sounding like Grace would if she were here.

“I'll still miss you,” China says.

*  *  *

I flash off Wesley onto Mike and flash off Mike expecting Punch, but it's someone else on the phone.

“How's my honey?” he goes.

“Who is this?” I ask because I never could recognize his voice. I only hear it a couple of times a year.

“I'm coming to Brooklyn,” he tells me.

“Uh huh,” I say. “I have a friend on the other line.”

“Don't you hang up this phone before we get a plan,” he says.

“Why don't you just write?” I go, sarcastic. That shuts him up a minute because he knows I know he never wrote dick, no matter what bullshit he used to shovel.

“I'm serious now. I'm coming to Brooklyn. Thursday. I'm coming for your graduation.”

“Does my mom know?”

“This isn't between me and your mama. This is between me and you.”

He's not slurring his words, and he doesn't sound all tired, like usual. Maybe he's done drinking. Maybe he means what he's saying, for a change.

“Let's meet up somewhere for dinner, Thursday,” he goes. “So we can spend some time before the big day. You name the place.”

“Okay,” I say. “Fine. Eight o'clock. Bar and Grill on Fourth Avenue.”

It's quiet a second, and then he goes, “Well, what do you look like, honey? I don't even have a picture of you.”

“I've got real short hair, practically shaved to my head,” I lie. “And I'm sort of yellow-colored, and I have extra-long nails, square on the ends, painted silver.”

I don't ask him what he looks like because everybody knows he looks just exactly like my sisters.

*  *  *

My mom stares at me over coffee in the morning.

“What?” I go.

“The twins told me.”

“Oh.”

She sips. I sort of expect her to say some poetry, which is what she used to do, for years, when she was thinking something deep.

“Why aren't you bugging?” I ask, after she stays quiet.

“I am,” she goes.

“Oh.”

She stretches her hand out over mine and grabs on. “I thought you knew you could come to me for anything.”

She's a good mother. She's smart, and she works hard and always tries to talk to you. She's way better than what a lot of people have.

“I thought you knew that I would help you fix whatever was wrong,” she says.

I shrug. I'm not trying to be disrespectful, but truth is truth.

“You can't fix everything,” I say.

*  *  *

“Get out,” I tell the twins, while they watch me dress.

“Where are you going?” Mattie asks.

“None of your business.”

“You have a date?” Elaine goes.

“Get out!”

“This is new,” Elaine says, pulling at the tag on a red and white halter.

“You'll rip it,” I say, grabbing it away from her.

“You hate your arms,” Elaine goes. “Why did you get this one?”

“It goes good with this,” Mattie calls, pulling my red shorts out of the closet.

“Y'all get out of here,” I tell them.

“Where are you going?” Mattie asks again.

“I'm meeting up with China,” I say.

“I thought you said she was a bitch,” Mattie says.

“What about Grace?” Elaine goes. “When is Grace coming back?”

“Never, if she can help it,” I tell them.

They take turns doing my hair, until it turns out just right.

*  *  *

He's bald, but he's the twins anyway, all over, everywhere. The same hole in the chin, the same high eyebrows, even the same way of sitting, with his shoulders all hunched over his drink.

I slide onto the stool next to him. He doesn't say anything until after I tell the bartender to get me an ice water.

“You want a beer?” he goes. “Let me buy you a beer.”

“No, thanks,” I say. I wonder if he'll know my voice.

“Oh, you're clean, huh?” he goes.

I shrug.

“All right,” he says. “All right. Nothing wrong with being clean.”

He waits a while, and then he says, “You want a ginger ale or something?”

I let him buy me a Coke. I keep waiting for him to look around for the daughter with short hair and silver nails, but you'd never know he was waiting for anybody.

“You meeting your man here?” he asks, while I poke at ice cubes with my finger.

“No,” I tell him. “I'm just passing time.”

“You do have a man, don't you?” he goes. “Pretty thing like yourself.”

I shrug. “What about you?” I ask. “You have a woman?”

He laughs and orders another beer. “In a way I do,” he tells me, “and in a way I don't.” He pulls out a pack of cigarettes, taps one out, and lights up. “What you should better be asking,” he says, “is, do I appreciate women.”

“Uh huh,” I go.

“Well, the answer is yes.” He draws on his cigarette and breathes the smoke away to the side. “I live for women.” He leans toward me. “Though some women say I live for the drink.”

“You have kids?” I ask him. He drops his eyelids half closed and moves in real close, making my skin turn inside out.

“You want to make some, honey?” he whispers.

*  *  *

“Sonia Kabir,” they call, and China's brown skin, long skirt, long-sleeve girl steps up for her diploma. “China Kabo,” and China steps up. It's going to be forever before they get to Carl and me. I check out the audience, trying to find Mattie and Elaine and my mom in the crowd. I don't see them, but for a second I think I spot my daddy. For a second I think I see his twins' face, and it's crying. But then I blink, and it's just some other man.

*  *  *

What's that?
I'd thought maybe he'd ask after we'd ordered.

Just scars,
I'd say, feeling air conditioning prickle my arms for the first time in a good long while.

How did you get them?
he'd go, all concerned.

I did it to myself,
I'd say.

Now what would make you do a thing like that?
he'd ask, and I'd shrug. He would get up from his seat across the table and scoot into the bench booth right next to me. He'd put his arm around my shoulder, firm and fatherly.

I was real angry once,
I'd say, finally, and he would nod, like he understood.

Keisha

Gingerbread

Grace

Sam

Tory

Nick

Gingerbread

Keisha

Drew

Tory

“YOUR MAMA'S PREGNANT again,” Aunt Eva tells me while I'm reaching for the butter. She's braiding my cousin Tory's hair and gives one rope a tug to keep her still.

“Aunt Cheryl?” Tory goes.

“Are we taking it?” I ask. The butter's cold and won't spread smooth on my toast. It sticks in yellow clumps.

“Mmm-hmm,” Aunt Eva says, pulling a plastic barrette out of her man's shirt pocket and clipping it tight to Tory's head.

My brother Nick slides in from his room in the back, opens the refrigerator, and stares inside, like he's forgotten what he's looking for.

“Your mama getting a new baby,” Tory tells him.

“His mama
is
getting a new baby,” Aunt Eva fixes. She won't look at me.

Nick leans forward, his back curving toward us at the kitchen table. “Gravy spilled in here,” he says, and he closes the refrigerator door.

*  *  *

Before Tory and I leave for school, Aunt Eva corners me in the bathroom. But I beat her to talking and go, “Why didn't you tell me last night?”

“Why do you think?” she whips back.

I could argue it, but the truth is, I know where she's coming from. Last night was when I finally told her me and Gingerbread were fucking. I didn't say “fucking,” but still. I had to tell it some way because the only secret I ever kept from Eva, the one about Nick, has been smacking at me harder and harder every time I look at Tory. So awhile ago I figured I better make sure I always give up the big things soon. Before they swallow me until I can't speak at all but just let them slap like a wet shoelace that turns to a razor when it's hit you enough.

“Your sixteen-year-old self is doing what?” she said, after I sat her down and brought her a glass of water with a wedge of orange.

“You heard me,” I answered, trying not to care if she bugged.

She sipped at her water, calm as you please, and then went, “If you're pregnant, you better tell me straight up.”

“I'm not pregnant,” I told her.

“You using something?” she asked. “And don't tell me rhythm, or I'll throw you out.”

She would never do that.

“Condoms,” I said.

“Every time?”

“Every time.”

“He give you trouble about that?”

“He's the one who buys them.”

She poked at the orange with her pinkie and squeezed up her face. She has a good face, my aunt Eva. It's got lines and freckles and the biggest nose you ever saw. Gingerbread says she looks like some kind of queen Muppet, and she does.

“You have any questions?” she asked me, finally.

“I think I asked them all when I was small,” I lied. The untrue part was that I never asked her about Nick.

“I imagine more might have come up now that you're doing and not reading,” she said. She can be real sarcastic when she wants.

“Uh uh.” I watched her hold the orange into her mouth and suck on it, the way she does. After a long time I went, “You mad?”

“Just don't let me walk in on you,” she warned.

“I hear that,” I agreed, getting all crawly just picturing it, and she spat that orange right back into the water, laughing herself right into a choke.

*  *  *

Now she's pulling hairs out of Tory's comb and won't look me in the eye.

“Your mama's staying with us for the summer until the baby comes.”

“No, she's not,” I say.

“Keisha!” Tory's yelling from the hall. “We going to be late!” Aunt Eva doesn't even fix Tory's grammar.

“I thought that's how you might come out,” Eva says.

“You promised.” My hands go all claws. “You said we'd never take her back!”

“I said you wouldn't have to live with her again,” Eva says. She rolls the comb hair between her thumb and index finger. She looks hard at it, like she's searching for bugs or something. “I found a place for you. It's in the country. It's nice.”

“The country?” I go. “Uh uh. I'll stay with Gingerbread.”

“I don't think so,” she says, all tight around the mouth now. She would have said yes yesterday. Damn.

“Keisha!” Tory yells.

“I'll take you!” Nick offers from somewhere.

I push around Aunt Eva to get out of the bathroom.

“Why can't I stay with Linda or Clancy?” I ask, grabbing my bag from the floor by the TV.

“Linda's back on the street, and Clancy is not trustworthy.”

I don't know him. I only met him a couple of times, at Christmas, even though he lives somewhere around here.

I head for Tory and the hall. Nick isn't taking her anywhere.

“Not trustworthy?” I go. “Clancy's your brother.”

Aunt Eva follows me to the door and pulls on my arm, making me look at her straight. “Then don't you think I know what I'm talking about?”

“You never said anything like that about him before,” I say.

“Anything about what?” Tory asks. She turns her back to me so I'll help her pull the braids out from under her jacket.

“You weren't old enough to hear it before, Miss Thing,” Eva says back.

“Why does she have to stay here?” I ask. “Why here?” The thing is, I know why.

“It's for that baby.”

If Eva doesn't make my mama look out for it, that baby's going to come out more than messed up.

“I'm not going to no damn country.”

“Ooohh,” Tory goes.

“Any,” Eva says. “And don't you bring
damn
into this house.”

“I'm not going.”

“It's high time you experienced something different. You've never been anywhere.”

“So?”

“Going places stretches your soul. You get to see things.”

“I see plenty.”

“You get to see things differently,” she goes. “I'm not playing, Keisha. You get to understand things differently.”

“I understand enough.”

“You feel different when you go away,” she says.

“How do you know?” I ask her. “You've never been anywhere.”

“Well, exactly,” she tells me, and I'll be damned if she's not about to cry.

*  *  *

Gingerbread hands back Tory's computer pet.

“You've got to feed it,” he tells her. “It beeped me silly all morning.”

“We getting a new baby,” Tory squawks while a pack of her friends pull her away.

“Don't fall out,” I tell him quick, before his face goes yellow. “It's not me.”

“Better not be Eva,” he says, pulling me up close even though we already missed the first bell and we're not even at our school corner yet. He squeezes my behind and starts kissing at my neck.

“It's all messed up,” I whisper, even though he's making me hot and giving me those nice chills at the same time.

“You going to cry?” he asks, backing up to get a good look at me. He's never seen me cry. Damned if I'm going to let him see it now. “Did she flip?” I shake my head, but he's not trying to see it. “She did,” he goes. “I knew you shouldn't have told her. She flipped, didn't she?” Now he hugs me nice, and I start crying for real because how am I supposed to get through a whole summer without him?