Hood Lemonade Jamika's Vendetta (14 page)

She looked on quietly, inhaling the sight of her elderly great-grandmother, like the fragrant odor of the assorted meal she was preparing. Big Momma’s hair seemed greyer than she remembered.

Jamika finally spoke through the tears that seemed to be choking her, “Hey, Big Momma.” Big Momma turned with the surprised look of thinking that she was hearing things. Next, she pushed her glasses up on her nose to assure her that she wasn’t seeing things. Then, she held out her arms, and let out that joyful, jolly laugh that Jamika had loved from the very first time she’d met her.

“My Me-Me!” she exclaimed. They embraced for a long moment. Big Momma started making Jamika a plate of food. “Goodness, dear. Ain’t nobody tell me you was comin’ on home. I woulda made a big ole dinner, and invited everybody over. I’m gon’ hurt that daughter of mine, for not tellin’ me,” she said in her sweet, jolly voice.

“She didn’t know, Big Momma… Uh…I was let out on parole.”

“Oh…well, sit down ‘ere and eat up. I can see that them folks ain’t been feedin’ you right. Look at cha, looking all skinny. I like ya betta wit a lil’ mo’ meat on yo bones. I know y’all yungins thank skinny look good, but a man prefer somethin’ he can hold onto. Oh, Me-Me, I am so happy to see ya baby. Let me go call Marjorie and Rasheeda. Rasheeda gon’ be so happy to see ya. She talk about ya all the time, and…” Big Momma rambled on, heading to her room to use the telephone.

Jamika smiled, and began to eat. She spoke softly to herself, “I’m happy to see you too, Big Momma.”

By the time Marjorie and Rasheeda arrived, Big Momma and Jamika were laughing at stories Big Momma told of various relatives, and incidents that had happened while she was away.

Marjorie looked exactly the same, as if she hadn’t aged a day. Her hairstyle was that of a much younger woman, and she was dressed classy as always. Rasheeda, on the other hand, had grown taller than Jamika. She suddenly realized that she’d never see Felise walk through Big Momma’s door again. The pain seemed to feel fresh and new again. She longed to see her mother walk through that door.

She pushed the thought from her mind, as she stood up to hug her grandmother and younger sister. She explained to them the same lie about being let out on parole. She told them that she’d been given a loan, given to ex-federal inmates, and she’d gotten her own apartment in the town of Weston.

They all thought that to be odd, because Weston was a very expensive place to live. She explained that she had a manager, and that she’d be doing paid gigs while she looked for work. She could tell that none of the women in the room took to her sudden new expensive apartment, trying singing again, right out of prison attitude. But, no one verbalized their feelings. They were all just glad to see her. Jamika barely called home while she was away, and they all just wanted to cherish this time together.

Jamika hated lying to the people that she loved most. But, she knew that if she told them the truth, they would try to talk her out of it. The conversation did eventually drift to Marjorie’s new job at the Division of Forestry and Rasheeda’s last year of middle school.

Felise wasn’t mentioned, which Jamika found strange. Then a name was bought up that Jamika had night after night coached herself to forget.

“Did you tell her that Mark was trying to find her?” said Rasheeda.

“Oh yeah, Meek. First off, let me tell you that brother there is Ebony’s man of the year. He is too smooth and fly. Dresses like a million bucks, drives a nice car, and does not have a wedding ring. I checked. He owns some type of private investigation business. Now ask me how a man that young and fine, got to be that successful, I just—”

“Grandma,” Jamika interrupted, “will you get to the point please?” Jamika really did not want to hear this, and was hoping to get through this part of the conversation as quickly as possible.

“Well, he somehow found out where we live, being that he’s a private investigator and all. For the first year that you were away, he would come by at least once a month asking for you. I didn’t want to tell the man that you were in prison. Finally, he comes one day with a smile saying that he’s found you. Most of the money that you were receiving was him. He’s been buying Rasheeda’s school clothes and has become a really good friend of the family. He even comes over here to sit with Big Momma. You need to give that man a chance; he’s crazy about you, Meek.”

“He’s crazy alright,” Jamika retorted, “he’s got you all fooled. Mark has always had a way of charming ladies. I do not want any part of Mark, and please do not tell him that I am home.”

Marjorie realized Jamika was as stubborn as Felise had been, and thought she’d better try to talk some sense into her. “But, Meek, any man that goes through all of the trouble for you has got to—”

“Grandma, please. Please do not tell him that I am home. I got a lot of things that I need to take care of. I really don’t need the distraction right now.” Especially one that’s going to hurt me again, Jamika was thinking. Being hurt two times in one lifetime by the same guy was enough for Jamika. She’d thrown Mark off her list a long time ago; she wondered why he even wasted his time. They both knew all too well that she would never be his type.

She remembered that about a year into her time, she had received a letter from him. The letter stated that he’d grown to be mature and humble. He said that he had realized he’d hurt her in the past, but she was who he really loved. He explained how back in the day he only did what young boys do, “play the field”, and that he now knew without a doubt that Jamika was his true love.

He’d sent $500 with that letter. Jamika never responded. There were other letters that followed, but they all remained unopened. She’d forced herself to harden that soft spot that she held for Mark Rosier. The last time she softened herself for a man, Deonte happened.

Jamika was tired of the same thing over and over again. Jamika figured that there must not be any good men. She thought about her deadbeat father, her sexually abusive Uncle Hubert, Marquis and Mark who emotionally scarred her, Zahrice who tried to murder her, Quinton who died on her, and Deonte who sent her to prison. Men had always been just one bad experience after another for her. All she wanted in a man now was sexual satisfaction.

Jamika tuned back into the conversation, which was shopping this upcoming weekend. Jamika agreed to join. They all continued to talk, laugh and reminisce until the sun had set and again began to rise.

Chapter Eighteen

Three months had passed since Jamika was released from prison, and she couldn’t believe how swiftly the time was passing. She rode her stationary exercise bike and looked through the double glass doors of her bedroom. Beyond the doors, there was a beautiful lake. She would do most of her meditating on that bike, looking out at the serene lake.

She’d done five performances, in shows where Daddy Dee’s newest prodigy, Sensual had performed. Sensual was a three-female vocal group, which reminded Jamika of En Vogue, with a touch of hip-hop flavor. The group confused Jamika, since Daddy Dee usually only preyed on one female at a time. Maybe he was really helping this group. They had an outstanding sound.

They had been a hard act to both upstage and follow, at the past five performances. Yet, Jamika had gone on each time confident and vibrant, bringing the audience to their feet each time with her soulful performances. She’d done three additional performances at other places, not to make Daddy Dee suspicious.

Juicylicious had mentioned to Daddy Dee that her brother was a talent manager, and Jamika was his client. She told him that she was helping to set up spots for him, as she did for Deonte’s new group, and that some of the performances would be in the same places. Juicy acted as if she didn’t remember Jamika being with Daddy Dee. Her look had changed and her stage name had gone from her first name to Mink, after the expensive fur coat. Jamika wondered if Daddy Dee was buying this.

Jamika hadn’t had a chance to say more than a brief hello to him since this had all begun. He’d always appear busy with his group, and when they performed on stage, he would watch side stage, as if in a trance. Afterward, he’d be gone before she realized he had left. Tonight would be different, Jamika told herself. She’d get his attention somehow tonight. She had to. If she did not start somewhere, she was on her way back to prison.

The makeup artist, Maria, had just finished Jamika’s makeup. She sat alone in the dressing room marked “Guest”, praying like she’d begun to do before each performance. She stood to look at herself. It always seemed to surprise her how beautiful she was when she transformed into “Mink”.

For tonight’s performance, Jamika wore a silver, satin skirt set. The skirt fell to her ankles, but held a high split that ran to the upper thigh of her right leg. There were stitches with strings cut out on both sides of the skirt, which made it appear as if Jamika had no underwear on. The shirt was a midriff, with the back out, with stitches across to match the sides of the skirt. Her tight stomach and back were adorned proudly with silver glitter, which would play beautifully against her dark skin with the stage lights.

Her silver, stiletto heels were finally broken in. Jamika felt the familiar rush of knowing that it was almost time for her to perform.

Tonight’s opening performance was for an A-list rapper, at the Miami Arena. Over 100,000 people had shown up, and the crowd was ecstatic. A local rap group called Sinners was currently performing, and then it would be Jamika’s turn. Being that it was a rap concert, Jamika had chosen two upbeat party numbers to perform, one that had a rap breakdown that she had written and perfected herself. Sensual performed after her tonight, so Jamika was intent on talking to Daddy Dee tonight.

She heard the applause as the rap group finished their first number, immediately followed by a tap on the door. “Who?” Jamika yelled toward the door.

“Me,” she heard Agent Conner’s familiar voice say.

“Come in, Will.” He walked in, wearing an orange and black Polo shirt and jeans, with matching sneakers. His haircut and goatee were immaculate as usual. They had become friends through this whole setup.

“Damn girl, you aren’t having it tonight! You going to give these niggaz straight havoc, ma.”

Jamika stood, smiled, did a model walk, posed and turned. “You like?” she asked. “Do I like? You are definitely going to be the most remembered part of the show. You have about four minutes; we better make it to the stage.”

Jamika took a quick glance in the light studded mirror. She patted her hair that had been dyed bronze, and done into a delicate up-do. The bug, which had been planted for any conversation that she may have with Daddy Dee, was planted securely inside.

As she reached the stage, the applause once again rang out. Jamika’s heart began to thump a healthy, nervous rhythm. She could hear the announcer returning to the microphone. “I like dat. Dem boys going places. Next, coming to the stage, we have a chocolate lady that many of you have seen around. She’s got a soulful voice, and a body that defines the word brick house. Y’all, give it up…for…Mink!”

Jamika heard the upbeat begin, and bopped out into the bright lights of the gigantic stage. She moaned the first notes of the song soulfully. She then went into singing the soulful song she’d helped to write. Jamika could tell the crowd was feeling her; people were already up on their feet. The energy was tremendous. The bridge approached for the rap, and Jamika spat the lyrics out like she was born to rap. She rhymed:

I’m a down south chick, stacked like a brick

Collard greens and cornbread keep me thick

Scandalous, classy chick, pop-the-wrist,

Ain’t gotta show ass to get ‘em bitch

Chunky Miss, T-real Thugghette with a twist

Yeah, I’m lady-like but I can drop these fists

You ask for evidence? Nigga is evident!

Have ‘em stutterin’, m-m-m-m-magnificence

Intelligence, Perfectionist, Lyricist

Yeah I know… You sure you still wanna fuck wit dis?

Jamika always forgot about the reason she was there when she performed, she always did her best. This was, after all, her dream. When she finished, people were on their feet once again, applauding and yelling. This was what Jamika loved most. She loved for people to enjoy and appreciate her talent. She left the stage feeling fulfilled and excited.

She calmed herself outwardly, as she saw Daddy Dee and Sensual appear side stage. Agent Conner was in place and on cue. “Mink, you are the shit! That was your best performance yet. When you went to rappin’, damn, we going to be rich, girl! Come on, dinner is on me.”

“Will, I want to see the rest of the show,” Jamika complained.

“You have a performance tomorrow night, you need to rest.”

“Okay, let me just watch Sensual perform then.”

“Uh, alright. I’ll be at the dressing room,” he said, sounding disappointed.

Jamika took a mental note that Agent Conner was too good at this. The three women went onstage to start their performance. Daddy Dee stood there in a trance, looking at Sensual as if he didn’t see Jamika standing there.

Jamika walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. “Shhh,” he said hurriedly, holding his hand up to Jamika. “Shhh yourself, Deonte. You can’t say hello to an old friend?”

“What? Why should I say hello?” Jamika could not believe this cold motherfucker. “Why not?” Jamika asked, appearing surprised by his actions.

“Well, I do not know you for one thing,” he said.

“Deonte, don’t play with me.” Jamika said, getting frustrated.

“Deonte? My name is Darrell. You must be mistaking me for someone else.”

“You are Daddy Dee. I know who you are.”

“Well, I don’t know who you are; I have never seen you before. I would have grabbed you. You are an excellent performer.”

What was happening? There was no way he could have forgotten her in only two years. Either he was onto them, or he was covering his tracks, just in case. Jamika had to keep trying.

“Look Dee. I am not mad at you for what happened. That is all in the past. I still have strong feelings for you. I just wish you would have told me, that’s all. I would have gotten that shit through.”

Daddy Dee looked at her with a confused look and said, “I’ve tried to tell you nicely, I don’t know what ‘shit’ you’re talking about. So, please, back up off me so I can watch my group perform!”

Jamika did just that. This was going to be a lot tougher than she’d imagined. She would have to come up with a different approach. She was on her way to the dressing room thinking of her next step, when she collided with a man. His hands felt strong and supportive around her waist as he stabilized her to prevent her from falling. After steadying her, he offered her his hand. He grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips for a soft kiss. Jamika felt like an electrical current swept through her arm; she involuntarily snatched her hand away.

“I’m sorry; I don’t want to offend you in any way. I should have been watching where I was walking,” he said.

“It’s okay.” Jamika observed the man; something in his eyes made him vaguely familiar to her.

He stood about 6’1”, and brown-skinned like the color of a Milky Way candy bar. His eyes were dark; he had a thin tailored mustache, and a perfectly shaped baldhead. Yet, those eyes; there was something so familiar about his eyes.

“Have we met?” Jamika asked, genuinely curious.

“I thought only us guys used that line,” he replied with a half grin.

“It’s not a pickup line. You just nearly knocked me over, remember? You just look kind of familiar to me.”

“Well, I’m the soundman; I do a lot of shows in the area. You’ve probably seen me around. I’ve definitely seen you. You are damn good out there on that stage.”

“Thank you,” Jamika said. She figured she must have seen him at a previous show, which would explain why he seemed so familiar. “Well, nice meeting you. My manager is waiting for me.” Jamika began to walk away.

“Uh, Mink,” he called after her. “Would it be too much trouble for me to ask what your real name is? You just seem to be something much more humble than a mink to me.”

“No, it’s no trouble at all. My name is Jamika.”

“Jamika. Is that right? I had a best friend named Jamika years and years ago.”

“Really? I didn’t think there were too many of us with this name. Why do you say had? Did she die or something?”

“No. She moved away when I was about eight or nine years old, and I never saw her again. I was living in New Jersey then, and she moved somewhere down south. Yeah, I always remembered her though. Some people your memory bank just doesn’t let go of, you feel me?”

Jamika hadn’t heard anything past Jersey. It couldn’t be. “Are you all right?” he was asking her.

“Wait a minute,” Jamika said, taking a deep breath and putting her hand to her head as if she felt faint. “Did you remember giving her anything when she left?”

He thought for a moment. “As a matter of fact I did. Why do you ask?”

Jamika felt around in her purse and pulled out her wallet. Behind the old weathered homecoming picture of her and Quinton, she felt for an old quarter that had been flattened by a train and given to her, over fifteen years earlier. The man looked at Jamika, puzzled as she fished through her purse. Before Jamika brought it completely out of her purse, she asked, “What did you give her?”

“It isn’t anything worth mentioning. I was only eight or nine years old.”

“I’m just curious,” Jamika persisted.

“I gave her a quarter that had been run over by a train. I know that sounds silly, but it was pretty cool back…” he fell speechless as he saw Jamika bring the old, flattened quarter from her bag. “Lil’ Tray?”

“Just… Tray these days. Jamika, I can’t believe it’s really you. This is a trip!”

“I know. What are you doing in Miami?”

“I went to UM for sound production, and I just ended up not going home once I graduated. You can’t beat this weather.”

“This is such a coincidence.”

“I know; we should go out to dinner or something. We have about, damn, at least fifteen years of making up to do.”

“I have a performance tomorrow. I can’t stay out too late.”

“Well, luckily, I’m not on sound tonight. We can leave now. I’ll have you in early. I promise.”

“Okay, let me go meet with my manager. I’ll meet you by the green room.”

“Okay. Damn, I still can’t believe it’s you,” Tray said, shaking his head in disbelief as he walked away.

Jamika reached her room where Agent Conner sat, with a pair of thongs over his head like a hat. “What in the hell? Give me my panties! Are you some kind of freak or something?”

“Of course,” Agent Conner said jokingly.

“Anyway, guess what?” Jamika asked.

“You ran into an old friend and you want to have dinner with him,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“Oh yeah,” Jamika said, patting her hair, remembering the bug that had been planted there earlier.

“He seems all right. You can go. Just make sure to keep the bug on so we can make sure that this guy isn’t up to anything.”

“All right. Can you turn around so I can change?” Jamika asked, trying to give Agent Conner a clue that she wanted privacy.

He liked to joke around with her, since they had become good friends. “Girl, you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.”

Jamika looked at him and rolled her eyes. “You ain’t never seen this before, so turn around.” Jamika changed into casual evening attire, as Agent Conner spoke to her with his back turned.