Flyy Girl (6 page)

“You cooled off a bit, hunh?”

“Yup, because 'dey stupid in school, anyway. They don't know nothin'.”

Again, Patti frowned at Tracy's speech. “I've been trying to get her to slow down and
pronounce
her words when she speaks to people, Dave.”

Dave nodded his head. “I see. She wants to talk so much she can't get all of her words out,” he commented with a laugh.

“It's not funny,” Patti told him.

“But you're still a little brainiac, right?” he asked his daughter.

“Yup,” Tracy answered him with a glow.

Patti watched them enviously. She was begging for Dave to say something to
her.
He hadn't even looked her way. She felt an urge to sit down beside him, but her pride wouldn't let her “kiss up.” Her nerves pushed and pulled, torn between love and dignity. Then Dave intensified her struggle.

“So what has your mother been up to?” he asked Tracy.

“She been goin' out to dinners and stuff.”

Patti was pissed as well as embarrassed.
Now how is he gonna sit up
in here and ask Tracy that when I'm right in his damn face?
she thought to herself. “Why not ask me?” she said to her separated husband.

Dave turned to face her with a seductive smile that made Patti nervous. “Well, what have you been up to?” he asked.

Patti took a deep breath to maintain her composure. She was about to explode on the inside. “I got a new job at this abortion clinic. I had enrolled in a night-school training program, and—”

“Where was Tracy while you were doing this?” Dave asked, cutting her off.

“She was next door.”

“Yeah, dad, I was at Mr. Keith's house.”

“Okay. But you know what, my little girl? Daddy bought a surprise for you.”

Patti left the living room for the kitchen, annoyed that he had led her on. “Damn, he gets on my nerves!” she mumbled. “I don't even know why I tried to talk to him.”

Dave pulled out a small box and opened it, displaying a gold chain to his daughter.

“Wow, daddy, that's for me?” Tracy asked.

He put it around her neck. “Yup, sweetheart, it's for you all right. Now go show your mother.”

Tracy ran into the kitchen to show it off. “Look what daddy bought me, mom.”

Patti looked down at Tracy's neck and felt a spark of jealousy. She couldn't help it. Dave didn't bring
her
any presents. He didn't even want to talk to
her.
Hell, she felt like throwing his ass out. But it was still his house.

This motherfucker got me trapped, he knows it, and he's toying with
me!
Patti snapped to herself. “That's nice,” she told her daughter while hiding her rage.

Tracy ran back into the living room and jumped on her father's lap.

“What did your mother say?” he asked her.

“She said it was nice.”

Dave smiled and shook his head. “Go tell your mother I got a surprise for her, too.”

“Okay, daddy,” Tracy responded, running back to the kitchen.

“Daddy said he got one for you, too, mom.”

Patti tried to hold back a colossal smile.
See that! He's fucking with
me!
she fumed. Her smile exploded through anyway. “Ask him what it is.”

“What is it? dad, mommy said.”

“You tell her I said to come here.”

Tracy loved the message game. She ran back to the kitchen again. “He said come and get it, mommy,” she fibbed.

Patti slowly walked out into the living room and sat on the couch. She then took Tracy into her arms and held her daughter on her lap.

Dave laid back against the couch and waited for Patti to say something.

“Well, what do you have for me?”

“Nothin'. I just wanted to look at you.”

Patti felt bubbly with joy. “Why do you want to look at me?” she asked him with a slight blush.

Dave sat up and ran his fingers from the back of her neck and through her hair. “Because you're so pretty.”

Patti rocked her daughter, letting off some of her swelling anxiety. She was about to ask her husband why he left her when Dave leaned
over and kissed her on her neck. Patti responded, lifting her head. He was touching her, passionately, for the first time in years.

Dave stopped and chuckled to himself as he got up to leave.

Patti was frantic. “Where are you going?” she asked him hastily. She stood up so quickly that she unintentionally dropped Tracy to the floor.

“Hey, mom,” Tracy yelped.

Dave responded with a grin, “Calm down, girl. I'm coming back. I'm just gonna run out to the bank and get some money so we can go out today. Okay? Is that all right with you?”

Patti mellowed out with a smile. “All right,” she said, feeling a bit foolish. Dave still knew how to push her buttons.

The Ellisons went out to the suburban Willow Grove Mall. Dave bought his daughter a few new dolls and dresses and a new book-bag with bright neon colors. He bought Patti a pair of shoes to match a gold dress she had purchased. They hadn't shopped as a family since Tracy was four years old.

They sat inside of the mall's restaurant area and ate lunch. Dave looked around curiously while Patti sneaked peeks at his hazel eyes in blissful silence.

“Daddy, why do people sleep in the daytime?” Tracy asked him with a French fry in hand.

“Well, some people sleep in the daytime when they have nighttime jobs. Or you might have a hard day, or exhaust yourself doing something physical, like playing sports or something.”

“But what if you a girl and you don't have no job yet?”

Her father grinned. “Oh, well, in that case, I'd say she's running around with boys at night and tired herself out. Boys can take up a lot of your energy,” Dave said, creating a big story to amuse his wife with their memories.

Patti beamed across the table.

“See, mom, I told you. Dad knows I'm right,” Tracy said.

Dave raised his brow. “What is she talking about?” he asked Patti.

“She thinks that Mercedes is running around with boys, because she slept late yesterday.”

Dave responded, smiling, “Yup, that'll do it.”

Patti grinned. “Not necessarily, Dave.”

“Well, as long as we've been living next door to them, that girl ain't did nothin' to be tired. How old is she now?”

“Thirteen,” Tracy answered, butting in.

Dave shook his head and laughed.

“What's so funny?” Patti asked, smiling herself. She was overjoyed to be with him again. Marriage and a child with Dave had created a comfort zone between them that none of Patti's dates seemed to be able to reach. Dave felt the same way about her. After two years, he thought he was ready to come home.

“I was just thinking about this girl who everybody was after when I was young,” he said. “Her name was Rita. Her father was mean, too, and that girl did everything she could to get into something.”

Patti nodded. “Unh hunh. I knew this girl like that, too. She was just as quiet as she could be. And she was nasty as can be.”

Tracy got a kick out of hearing her parents talk about their youth. She was learning about “the birds and the bees” much faster that way. If her parents only knew how much and how fast Tracy picked up on things, they would not have spoken so loosely around her.

“I know one thing,” Dave said, “Keith damn sure ain't the most charming man. I think he must have scared Beth into marrying him.”

In the passing weeks, Mercedes collected more phone numbers from only cute guys. She had increased her popularity around the neighborhood. She was still seeing Kevin whenever she got a chance. But Kevin was bored with her and started to avoid her calls. Mercedes was learning her first big lesson about boys: never become a submissive sidekick.

“Ay Mercedes, come here for a minute,” said a light-skinned boy named Hakeem. He had spoken to her before, and he was known as a
fighter and a troublemaker. He lived on the rougher side of Germantown in a row-house, across Chelten Avenue.

Hakeem had wavy light-brown hair and sleepy eyes. Those eyes attracted Mercedes. She liked his boldness as well. And he had a voice that demanded attention, so Mercedes remained apprehensive as she walked over to him on her way home from school.

“Are you still talkin' to Kevin?” he asked her. His rowdy friends hung close by.

“Yeah,” she answered.

“Well, you know what? I wanna talk to you anyway,” Hakeem told her. He looked over her body, imagining what it looked like through the Catholic school uniform. “So what's up with that, Mercedes?”

Mercedes was afraid to alarm him. She immediately changed the subject. “Where are you coming from?” she asked pleasantly. She wanted to avoid his question. Her heart was still full with Kevin.

“Look, can I get your number or what?” Hakeem pressed.

“I can't give out my phone number.”

“Why not?”

“Because my father doesn't allow me to.”

Hakeem shook his head, defiantly. “Naw, I'm not tryin' to hear that, slim. Ay Lou, write my number down, man, 'cause she gon' call
me,”
he said to one of his friends. “Now you better call me up, 'cause I'm
not
playin' wit' 'chew.”

Just like that, Hakeem had won Mercedes over. He knew what he wanted and how to get it. She started to imagine what he would be like in bed.

“What time do you want me to call you?” she asked, peeking at his six-pack of friends, who were patiently waiting for him.

“I mean, whenever you get a chance. I ain't in no hurry. As long as you call me this week.”

“All right then, I'll call you,” she told him.

She memorized his phone number, repeating it over and over again before she tore up the piece of paper that his friend had written it on and threw it away. The word on the street was that Hakeem could
box anybody his age. He was her new champion, and he was well respected.

Mercedes dreamed up fantasies while doing her math problems. But although Hakeem was a new kid who had jumped into her heart, she still felt for her first love. She refused to let Kevin go. She still preferred him over any other boy. Kevin wasn't as decisive or as respected as Hakeem; she just couldn't break his love spell.

She crept down to the kitchen phone that night and dialed.

“Hello . . . Kevin.”

“Ay Mercedes, why don't you stop callin' me for a while?”

“Why? What I do?” she whispered.

“Look, I'm just tired of you. Okay? Damn!”

“Why you gotta treat me like this, Kevin?”

“ 'Cause we had a little somethin', and now I wanna move on.”

There was a moment of silence while Mercedes thought it over. “I hate 'chew then, boy,” she said, hanging up on him. “I'on need him,” she mumbled to herself.

She then dialed Hakeem's number.

“Hello. Can I speak to Hakeem?”

“Who is this?” a deep voice boomed.

“Mercedes,” she answered.

“Hold on. YO, PUNCH! The phone is for you, man!”

Mercedes was amazed that there was so much noise in Hakeem's house after eleven o'clock at night. He would probably have a lot of stories to tell of staying out all night. She could imagine him taking her to adventurous places on the weekends. His crew probably did wild and crazy things every day, just for the hell of it. Mercedes could not
wait
to be with him!

“Hello,” Hakeem answered.

“Hi, it's me.”

“Me?
Me who?”

“The girl you gave your phone number to.”

“Oh, what's up, girl?”

“What's up wit' 'chew?” Mercedes asked, attempting to sound “cool.”

“I thought you was gon' call later on this week.”

“Well, I surprised you, didn't I?”

“No, 'cause I knew you was gon' call me eventually, and if you
didn't,
I was gon' punch you in your mouth for lyin' to me.”

Mercedes heard laughter in the background. She suspected that Hakeem had company over, or a lot of brothers. “That's why they call you “Punch'?” she quizzed him.

“You don't wanna find out why they call me Punch,” he told her.

Mercedes grinned. Hakeem was tough as nails, and rambunctious. “You got a lot of company over or something?” she asked.

“Naw, my cousin, Lou, lives wit' me. Him and my brothers are drunk.”

Mercedes thought they probably got drunk every night and acted like fools, like her father would do whenever his friends came over. That was the only time Mercedes could stand her father. Keith was entertaining when he was drunk.

“How many brothers you got?” she asked.

“Three. What about you?”

“I got a little sister.”

“So you're the oldest, hunh?”

“Yeah, but I know you're not,” she guessed.

“Nope, I'm the baby. But I'm still the man, though.”

“What do you do to have fun, Hakeem?”

“Talk to pretty girls like you.”

Mercedes turned giddy as a baby. “I'm serious, Hakeem,” she said with a huge smile.

“I told 'ju already,” he responded. “Sike, girl. You wanna know what I
really
do to have fun?”

“Yeah, Hakeem, tell me.”

“Well, as soon as you come over, you gon' find out,” he joked.

Mercedes could see that Hakeem wasn't for
beating around the
bush.
He was into
cutting down trees.

“How we gon' do anything when your brothers gon' be there?” she asked, starting to play it his way.

“Oh, they not gon' be in here. Plus, I got my own room. Two of my brothers stay in the basement.”

“What about your parents?”