Hustlin' (6 page)

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Authors: L. Divine

BOOK: Hustlin'
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“Whatever happened to Christmas spirit,” KJ says as Mickey storms past them and onto the field where Nigel's taking a water break.
KJ thinks his shit is funny when it's not. We all choose to ignore his silly comment. What did I ever see in him?
“KJ, don't you have someone to infect?” I say, silencing him and forcing his boys to hold in their “oohs.” I know that was low, but he pushed me. Like Nellie, sometimes KJ doesn't know when to shut the hell up.
“She's the one who needs to grow up. Trapping a dude with a baby is so outdated,” Nellie continues, flipping her hair over her shoulder and now reminding me too much of Tania's trifling ass. How Jeremy ever went with Tania, and then me, I'll never understand. I'm just glad she's out of the picture. But unfortunately she still has a psychic hold on her followers.
Even after Tania tried to get Nellie to eat a worm-infested apple at the Halloween masquerade ball and Laura ended up taking the bait instead, Nellie and Laura both still hung out with Tania until she moved to New York, claiming it was only because of “official school business.” Tania's got more power than Jim Jones when it comes to rich girl wannabes, Nellie included. It'll be interesting to see who rises to take her place.
“Well, you were okay with Tania's instant-wife-and-mother plan. What's wrong with Mickey doing it her way?” I pull my arms through my backpack and snap the straps across my stomach, ready for my trek home. Nellie will catch a ride with Chance, who's more than likely in the drama room chilling with Matt and Seth. Jeremy had to meet with his probation officer this afternoon, for the last time. I'm glad he got to stay at South Bay after he was caught selling weed at the beginning of the year and that they let him off so easily.
“The difference is, Tania never lied about her shit. She was honest and up-front, even if it did mean she had to move to New York and start a whole other life.”
The way Nellie tells Tania's story makes me think of those shows on Lifetime about brides and their dream weddings. Nellie's deranged if she thinks Tania's living the life that ought to be lived. Has she forgotten it's Jeremy's baby this chick is passing off as her pure Persian heir, with her new husband in New York? Tania's family is just as racist as Jeremy's father when it comes to having a pure bloodline.
“Nellie, let me tell you something,” I say to my friend as we walk up to the top of the bleachers so I can be closer to my bus stop. I have about five minutes until I need to get going. Mama's expecting me at Netta's and I have a lot of work to do today. They have me decorating the shop with all sorts of Christmas ornaments. The holidays feel more like slavery to me than a celebration. “Nigel's not getting hustled by Mickey. If anything, they're both getting exactly what they want out of their relationship. So why should we hate?”
“Because it ain't right,” Nellie pouts.
Mickey's right; Nellie does need to grow up. She's letting her emotions get the best of her and that's not good for any of us. I wish I could convince her to come to Netta's with me and get a head cleansing to help her calm down, but I know that ain't happening no time soon. Nellie and Mickey both are still a bit leery of my lineage. If they knew the full extent of our powers they'd really freak out.
“Right or not, it's happening and we have to deal with it in the best way possible.”
Nellie looks at me and I know she's not feeling my words. If I didn't know better I'd say her eyes were turning green with envy, and unlike Mickey's nonprescription contacts, green eyes don't look good on Nellie. I just hope she doesn't take her jealousy crusade too far, because I can only keep Mickey off of her for so long. After that, she's on her own.
“You deal with it your way, Jayd, and I'll deal with it mine.” Nellie walks away from me, heading toward the drama room.
As the sun begins to fade in the distance and the slight warmth in the chilly air with it, I see our threesome slowly coming to an end. Mickey, Nellie, and I have been through a lot of shit in our two years hanging. We're opposites, but we've made it work this far. Leave it to a dude to mess up a good flow. I know Mama and Netta both will be able to shed some light on our situation and hopefully help me save our friendship before it's too late.
 
When I get to Netta's Never Nappy Beauty Shop the lights in the window are brighter than usual. Mama and Netta have already hung the outside lights, doubling the permanent strand of white lights that offset the bright neon pink sign in the front window. A red and green wreath is hanging over the peephole of the front door. I thought this was supposed to be my job, but I guess they couldn't wait to get started.
Netta buzzes the door, letting me in to their holiday fortress. “Hello little Miss Jayd, assistant extraordinaire,” Netta says, waving her arms around, proud of their creation. It looks like Santa and his elves blew up in here. “How do you like it?”
“Well, you've definitely got spirit,” I say, placing my backpack and jacket onto one of the three dryer chairs. I walk over to Mama, who is sitting in a chair, waiting for Netta to do her hair, and give her a kiss on the cheek. Then I head to the washbowl to wash my hands and face. Netta believes in doing a mini-cleansing before she begins her work every day.
“I take it from your tone you had a rough day,” Mama says, picking up on my sentiments exactly. The last thing I want to do is hang up more Christmas decorations, especially when I have so much work to do. If being at the shop has to do with getting my hustle on, that's one thing. But more work with no pay doesn't attract me at all.
“Yeah. This madness between Mickey and Nellie has gotten out of hand,” I say, taking my apron off the hook next to the washbowls. I'm ready to start my job, paid or not. Having an apprentice is the tightest hustle of all. I can't wait until I get to boss someone around.
“
Now hold on there, young lady. People would pay top dollar for the kind of training you get being around Mama
,” my mom intervenes. It must be a slow day at work if she's all up in my head this afternoon.
“
It is hella boring, but that's beside the point, Jayd. I don't like the vibe I'm getting from you right now. I know you had a bad day, but damn. Don't take it out on Mama or Netta. They can get funky right back, and trust me, their funk is more potent than yours will ever be.”
“I know. It's just sometimes I feel like all I do is work. When do I get time to myself?”
I know I'm whining, but it's true. Between school, work, family, and friends I rarely have a moment to clear my head.
“What else do you have to do, Jayd? Nothing; you're a teenager. If you have too much time on your hands, all you'll do is get in to some kind of trouble. That's why your friends are so twisted up now. Nellie and Mickey remind me of myself when I was a teenager. You need to be the voice of reason, which means you can't get tired of working, girl. You are a hustler, so get on your job and stop complaining, you ungrateful child.”
And, with that mind-lashing, my mom exits my thoughts before I have a chance to argue.
“Oh, this must be really good if your mother's in your head. Tell me what happened,” Mama says, picking up on my psychic beat-down. My mom's good for putting a sistah in check, for real.
“Nellie just won't let up on Mickey being with Nigel and, more importantly, with her not being sure if Nigel's the daddy and the fact that he's okay with that.” Mama looks up at Netta's reflection in the mirror as she stands behind mama's chair. Their eyes connect and they smile, realizing they are in complete sync with their thoughts.
“Jayd, did I ever tell you about my lineage?” Netta clamps the hot curlers three times, setting off a tone in the room. I swear she just called a spirit in here: I can feel the temperature change in the room. When I was younger, they would come often. Now, not so much, but I still know that chill when I feel it.
“Not really. I just know your mother, sisters and grandmother all did hair.” Netta smiles at the innocence of my statement, ready to tell her story.
“Girl, when you're in someone's head you can make them tell you anything you want to know. Anything,” Netta says, looking at Mama, who seems to be talking to her through her facial expressions. No wonder they freaked my mom out. “That's why this is a never nappy shop. When people leave here, their heads are as clear as river water, I don't care the texture of their hair. I do more than press and curls, you know.”
“Don't let your friends' drama cloud your judgment, Jayd. You've got to keep a clear head always, and right now you're too wrapped up in everyone else's stuff to focus on your own.”
“You haven't even mentioned the play, and that's what I want to know about. Not more of your trifling friends. You done took my mojo, girl—look at your Mama's hair.” Netta drops the hotcurlers back into their oven and spins Mama around to face me. Her hair is unusually flat, but it still doesn't look bad. “I've got to have good energy up in the shop to keep my magic, girl; that's my hustle. And, if you like money, you have to learn how to attract prosperity.” She looks around the room and I know who she called in now: Legba, our father deity.
“Yes, Baba Legba is here, Jayd. Netta belongs to him, too.” Mama gets up from her chair and leads me to the back, where Netta's shrine is housed. After checking the front door, Netta meets us in the back, ready to help a sistah clear her mind, I assume.
“Now Jayd, you have to come back here everyday before you start work, and leave your head at the door. No mess in my shop ever, you hear?” The shrine stands at least six feet tall, with all kinds of things on it for the various orishas. I can tell it's older than I am, and then some.
“Oh, Netta,” I say, as she unveils the picture hanging behind the black velvet cloth. I always thought the cloth served as a backdrop for the shrine, which it does. But protecting the painting behind the curtain is its true purpose.
“Breathtaking, isn't she,” Netta says, taking the thick cloth and tying a red ribbon around it. Golden bracelets pop out of the black velvet painting, leading my eyes up the amber arm of the woman kneeling by the river. Her head seems to merge into the water she's facing, but her reflection catches my eye.
“Did she just move?” I know I'm tripping, but I'll be damned if she didn't just look at me through her mirror image in the water.
“I don't know. Did she?” Netta asks, causing Mama to giggle. Netta takes my hand and brings me closer to her station at the tall shrine. Mama stands behind us as Netta begins her ritual by pouring a libation to the four corners.
“We praise all of the orisha. We praise all of the ancestors. We praise Baba Legba and Mama Oshune. Jayd, you ring the bell while I light the candles.” Netta passes the small brass instrument to me before taking the matches off the top of the five-tiered altar and lighting the yellow seven-day candle on the floor. This is how Mama's altar would look if she had the space.
“What makes you think the woman in the painting looked at you?” Mama asks, taking the bell from my hand and pushing me toward Netta.
“I don't know. It seemed like she was looking at herself in the water and then she looked at me.” Netta turns around to look at Mama, who looks at me, and then they both look at the painting. Now I swear the painting is glowing. It may be all of the glittery paint on the velvet texture, but the woman and the water seem to glow.
“I know why Oshune is over mirrors,” Netta chants. “I know why Oshune is over rivers. I know why Oshune is over rivers.” Mama joins Netta in her chanting and I observe the lady at the river.
“Your friends are a reflection of you, just as you are of them. Remember that,” Mama says, ringing the bell loudly as Netta continues the ritual. “And, like the river, you must look past its reflection to see what's on the other side. What do you think she sees in her reflection?” Mama points at the woman again, who is now looking past her reflection and through the water as if she's studying something only she can see.
“I don't know. The fish swimming?” I try to recall what's in a river. I don't remember the last time I've seen one up close.
“Yes, it can be that. Or it could be the gator about to rise up and snatch her off,” Netta says. “We hairdressers have a unique power, and the mirror is the key to unlocking it. You're going to become a master by the time I'm done with you.” Netta wraps her right arm around my shoulders, hugging me tightly as Mama rings the bell over my head. They are cleansing me: I can feel it, and the woman in the river is watching the entire scene through her reflection in the water and smiling coyly.
“There are many, many things that lie right beneath the surface, Jayd. If you're too busy looking at your own reflection you may not see the dangers that lie ahead.” She's right about that. I have been wrapped up in everyone else's madness and not focused fully on my own shit.
“That's why it's so important not to let just anyone touch your head, child. There's all kinds of mojo in our art.” Netta releases her hold on me, grabs a large pink notebook from the bottom of her shrine, and opens it. This must be her family's spirit book. She opens it to a page that has a drawing of a lady, with long hair on one side of her head and a shaved head on the other.

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