The Coldest Winter Ever (33 page)

“So how did you meet my cousin?” I asked her. I was learning how to hit her with the questions before she could start hitting me. She stopped writing in her notebook, dropped her pen on the paper, and leaned back in the chair. She looked like she was recalling images in her mind.

The loud doorbell broke her mood and deaded my question. Without her even asking me to get the door, I zipped down the stairs. Lauren was standing there with a big smile on her face.

“Why didn’t you use your key?” I asked.

“I wanted you to come down so you could tell me what’s going on up there before I step in the fire and get burnt.”

“Your sister’s mad. But she’s more worried. If you just limp in, act like you hurt or like somebody mugged you or something things will turn out better.” We laughed.

“But get your ass upstairs, I’m tired of doing your work.”

“Ooooh girl, what happened with GS? I want to know everything.” Lauren was excited.

“Shhh.
I’ll tell you when we get to our room. Stay cool, your sister’s right in the living room,” I warned her.

One second after giggling with me Lauren was standing in the middle of the living room with tears spilling down her face, looking sorrowful. I only heard the beginning of her story. The voice that came out of her mouth wasn’t her usual voice. She was talking like she was seven years old instead of seventeen.

“I was mad at you, Souljah. What happened? You disappeared at the club. I tried to use the passes you gave me. They wouldn’t let me in the VIP room. I didn’t get to cash the check you gave me so I was broke. I didn’t have no money for a ride so I called Fever.” Blah blah blah, and Lauren had reversed it on her sister. Now Souljah was standing there, explaining where she went that night and what happened with the passes. I checked it all out. When Souljah noticed me watching the two of them like a tennis match, she took Lauren into her bedroom and their voices faded behind the closed door.

The Jamaican spot around the corner got to break my last twenty. Two patties, ginger beer, and two blunts. The speed of my thoughts increased, then doubled. I had to make a move soon. According to my calculations, GS should be coming around any day now. It was unlike him to let four days go by without showing up. Even though I had about five plans brewing, I felt real uneasy. Staying at their house had me out of my element. Like a true Santiaga I could figure something out when my back was against the wall, but this living arrangement didn’t leave me a lot of options.

First off, I was never left alone. Second, I had no one to feed off of. What I needed was a connection. It was like it was right there in front of my face, but I couldn’t hook up the main line. Careful thoughts led me to conclude that Souljah was cock-blocking. She was interrupting my connection to Midnight and GS. She was clogging up my flow.

When I stepped back into the crib, I knocked on Doc’s office door. She came to answer the door, opening it up only slightly. “My secretary quit. It’s real hectic in here. We can’t talk now.” She closed the door in a hurry.

As I turned the knob to Souljah’s apartment, I wished that I had not. I walked right into one of those womanhood meetings. I tried to shut the door swiftly hoping no one saw me, but Lauren pulled the knob from her side and said sarcastically, “Sasha, come on in. I saved a chair just for you.” As I saw all of the girls seated in a circle Lauren locked eyes with me. She kept making funny faces and gestures ’cause she had busted me trying to get out of a meeting both of us hated.

“How many of you have figured out the answer to the question, “What do I believe?’ Who knows the answer to the question, “What do I live for?’ Who thought about the question, “What would I sacrifice my life for?’ ”

“I’d sacrifice my life for my family,” one girl said.

“In what way?”

“If somebody was messing with my sister I’d kick they ass. If somebody killed my brother I’d try my best to kill them, even if it killed me.”

“Oh, are you and your sister tight?” Souljah asked, setting the girl up for the kill.

“We alright,” the girl responded. After a small pause, the girl continued, “It doesn’t matter if me and my sister are tight. The fact is that she’s my sister and if anybody puts their hands on her then we gon’ be thumping.”

“How about for a cause? Would you fight for a cause?” Souljah asked.

“What kind of cause?” the girl asked cautiously.

“Say, for instance, the school in your neighborhood didn’t have the right books for the children to learn. Or, say, they needed computers, or even healthier food in the cafeteria?”

The girl seemed to sense that this might be a trap so she thought before she answered, then blurted out, “No, I’m not getting involved in all of that. That’s different. If somebody’s beating my sister up or cheating her out of money, that’s different ’cause that’s like an emergency.”

“What about you?” Souljah asked the next girl. “If my sister was in the school, then maybe I’d do something,” the girl said.

“But why would your sister have to be in school for you to fight for the school?”

“ ’Cause my sister’s in my family,
my family.
I don’t know those other kids,” she said, with attitude.

“But the school is in your community. Even if your sister isn’t in that school, your sister still has to live in the neighborhood. She will be affected by whatever happens to those other children. If they don’t get a proper education maybe one of them will bust a cap in your sister’s ass. Then what?” Silence fell for three seconds.

Then the girl said, “Then I’ll bust a cap in they ass.” Everybody laughed. Souljah pulled out a blackboard and started gibbering about how we all a family.

“We are all connected. We have to look out for one another in our schools and neighborhoods. We have to make anybody who
makes money in our neighborhoods accountable to us who live here.”

As far as I was concerned this whole topic was a waste of time. The girl was right. If somebody touch family, then family touches them back. If somebody fucks with the money in my pocket then it’s grounds for war. How are we all connected when all of us live in separate places? I bet none of these chicks lived in an apartment as laced as Souljah’s. When you get a bill in the mail it ain’t a “we” thing. When I buy clothes they ain’t for “we” they for me. I live for me. I die for me.

Luckily Doc interrupted the meeting. She pulled Lauren out into the hall and I followed. “Listen Lauren,” she said, “I need a big favor. Can you fill in tomorrow until I hire a new secretary?” Lauren didn’t look enthusiastic.

“But I work up here,” Lauren said.

“Souljah won’t mind if I borrow you. My office is swamped. I’ll talk to her, she’ll understand.” Doc put the pressure on her.

“Alright then,” Lauren agreed.

Back inside Souljah was still grilling the girls.

“How will we as women get along with one another in our communities if we can’t agree on the rules?” she asked.

“What rules?” one of the girls questioned.

“How should we treat each other? How should we speak to one another, and about each other? What about our men? How should we treat them? How should we require them to treat us? What could we change about our own actions to cause them to treat all of us better? Will we continue to sleep with each other’s men and fight and lie about it? What do we believe? How will we raise our children? What will we tell them?”

Souljah was shooting those questions like rapid-fire. It was clear to me that she wanted to control everything and everybody. That’s it. She was a definite control freak.

Late that night when GS rang the bell, I beat my record time getting down the stairs.

“What up, Sash?” he said like I had him trained to say. “You know what’s up, nigga,” I responded, in my playful sexy way. “I knew you’d come around looking for me. Slide me your number so we can talk. You know, just me and you.” I smiled wide and stuck my tongue out a little on my teeth.

“You crazy,” he said, laughing. “Souljah here?” Steamed, my smile turned to tight lips.

“Stop playing, GS. You know what’s up. We don’t have to do this here. But we definitely got to do this.” GS brushed past me, pushing me to the side. As he headed up the stairs I ran close behind him and grabbed his shoulder. He jerked his shoulder back, shoving me off. At the top landing of the first flight of stairs I pushed him. He pushed me back.

“Look, girl. You want to get fucked, I’ll fuck you. But don’t trip in her house. I ain’t checkin’ for that.” In the dark shadows of the stairs Souljah appeared. With her eyes cutting through the darkness like a cat, she asked, “Is everything straight?” looking at GS.

“Everything’s cool,” he said in a raspy low voice.

“Peace, Sasha,” Souljah said as they left. But in them two words a lot more was hidden.

Upstairs Lauren was waiting. I was so vexed. I didn’t feel like swapping stories with her now.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Was that GS? What did he say?”

“The motherfucker didn’t say nothing. He acted like I was whylin out, like he didn’t know what’s up.”

“Well what do you expect him to do with Souljah right here in the house? What you got to do is get him one on one.”

“I already did that,” I said, calm, but angry.

“Did you get his number?”

“No.”

“How about the beeper?”

“Nope, nothing.”

“Damn, you fucked up. How did that happen? You didn’t get nothing? What the hell were you doing up there in his room?”

“I guess we were too busy to talk,” I laughed half-heartedly. “Where did you go?” I asked her.

“I was with Frankie till about five. Then he said he had to pick up GS, so I told him to drop me off.”

“He didn’t drop you here ’cause you weren’t here when I got here.”

“Yeah, he dropped me off at Cameron’s house.”

“Who’s Cameron?”

“This other dude I know.”

“What did Frankie say about that?”

“What could he say? He don’t know me. I told him it was my mother’s apartment.” We laughed again. “Frankie won’t see me no more no how. Once he told me he was GS’s personal bodyguard I decided to cut his ass off. I don’t need my business getting back to my sister.”

While Lauren slept I sat up all night. When I heard Souljah coming up the stairs it was about 4 A.M. I only heard one set of footsteps. I decided to confront her in the darkened hallway with my nightgown on.

“So is GS your man?” I questioned her.

“No, we’re just friends,” she said with no hostility.

“So how come the two of you are always together?”

“We like each other, but we both know it wouldn’t work out. Besides, he’s leaving on tour tomorrow.” She checked the time and said, “I mean today. We were just saying goodbye. Why do you ask?” I guess I didn’t answer quick enough because she started talking again. “I thought you had something for him,” she said, like she was pleased with herself for knowing things before they happen.

“But if I did it wouldn’t matter to you, would it?” I asked.

“It would because I have feelings for him. But I wouldn’t try to stop the two of you ’cause he’s not my man. Come on in?” We walked into her bedroom. “Sit down,” she said. “GS is an entertainer. I told myself there’s two kind of men I would never marry, a performer or a preacher.”

“Why?” I asked, thinking,
Damn, who said anything about marriage anyway?

“Because you have to know yourself as a woman. You have to know what you want out of love and what you don’t want. You have to know what you expect and what you’re unwilling to accept or compromise. Now a million women are in love with GS or at least think they are. Whatever girl eventually “gets him’ can never be happy. Her man will be hunted and desired by so many other women. Everyone will see her as the person who’s in the way, the person they need to get rid of.

“A man like GS would have to work overtime to convince the woman he chooses that he really loves her, that he really will be faithful. For the most part, he’ll probably try. He’ll say no to a thousand girls. Then there will be just that one. Someone with a beautiful face like yours, Sasha, a perfect figure and pretty toes, and he’ll say yes to her. Or let’s say he’s faithful. Half the time he’ll be on the road. You
would have to be the kind of woman who doesn’t mind being left alone half of the time. That’s not me. That’s not what I want. Then, with the performers you never know anyway.” Her voice lowered to a whisper like this was top secret information.

“Never know what?”

“A lot of them are bisexual. They look like men, dress like men, talk like men, are surrounded by women, but they sleep with men also.”

“Not GS,” I blurted out.

“You never know,” she said. “That’s why you gotta watch for a long time before you jump into bed with someone. It’s not what they say that gives them away, it’s what they do and how they do it. I watch closely. Most things are not what they seem to be in this life. Most people are not what they seem to be in this life. Most people find it extremely hard to tell the truth about themselves. Living has taught me that.” Souljah was undressing as she spoke. It was as if I wasn’t even standing there.

“So who is good enough to be your man?”

“I don’t really think of it that way. I look at it as when I meet the man for me I’ll know it; I’ll feel it and he will too. But even when I feel it and know it, I’ll wait and watch for a good while. But if you like GS, give it your best shot if that’s what you really want.”

As she sat down on the round bed in her bra and panties under the dim light, my mind raced to figure out the riddles she was speaking in. She was like the kid around the block who you’d get all pumped up to fight. You’d take off your earrings, necklace, pull back your hair, and Vaseline your face. You’d give her your best punch, then she wouldn’t hit you back. It just took the fun out of everything.

“So what’s up with the digits?” I asked, on my way out of her bedroom door.

“What digits?”

“Oh, I thought maybe you’d hook a girlfriend up with GS’s phone number?”

“Come on now. I’m nice, but I’m not stupid. If you want to hook up with GS you’ll have to work it out on your own, between the two of you.”