No Mercy (20 page)

“You can take your donut and your opinion about my friends and stick them wherever you want,” I say, kicking the covers back and getting out of the bed.

“Jayd, don’t be like that,” he says, taking me by the hand. “I just think you should choose the company you keep very carefully. Listen, why don’t you come to a study session with me and my friends this week. Let me show how grown people hang.”

I want to be mad at Keenan, but every time he pulls me into him all of my doubts disappear.

“This is exactly what I was talking about, Jayd. That boy’s got more mojo than you’re ready to deal with, girl. We’ll talk about where you are and what y’all were doing last night later, with your grown ass,” my mom says sternly into my thoughts.
Five minutes later and I would’ve been out of here. But no, she had to chime in at just the wrong time.
I’ll never be able to loose my virginity with my two moms up in my head whenever they please.
“Meet me at Dr. Whitmore’s in an hour.”

“But mom, your car is incapacitated again,” I think without disclosing all of the details. “And I hate taking the bus, especially on the weekends.”

My mom’s mental pause speaks volumes.

“I better get home,” I say, standing. I need to change out of the football shorts and t-shirt he gave me to sleep in and back into my own clothes. “Do you mind dropping me off at my mom’s?”

“Of course not. But you didn’t answer me about coming to campus this week. You know I love showing you off.”

I reclaim last night’s outfit draped across the arm of the couch and head for the bathroom. “Okay, it’s a study date.”

I think about all of the shit that’s gone down lately. Maybe Keenan’s right about me changing the crowd I roll with. I know Misty had something to with my car getting broken into. I’m also over Mickey and Nellie giving me attitude whenever the mood suits them. Hell, if it weren’t for Mickey’s trifling ways Mama and I would’ve never been in that legal mess with Mrs. Esop. But contrary to Mickey’s and Mama’s thoughts about Nigel’s mom, Mrs. Esop kept her part of the bargain and I have to keep mine. What kind of person would I be without my word? 

“Three Weeks?
What are you waiting for Mickey, the baby to graduate from college?”

-
Jayd

Drama High, volume 6:
Courtin’ Jayd

~16~

daddy’s baby, Mama’s maybe

Even though I know last night’s break in was more than bad luck it was yet another reminder that I need to buy my own ride. Shakir’s offer to sponsor my hair business out of the back of Simply Wholesome sounds better every day. A little independence—and more money—is just what the doctor ordered.

My mom’s mailbox is barely closed due to all of the bills stuffed inside. I rarely check it since what little mail I do have goes to Mama’s address but this is ridiculous. As soon as I turn the small lock a package falls to the ground along with several envelopes and advertisements.

“University of California, Los Angeles,” I read aloud. The blue letters look foreign to me. I didn’t request any information from this school. How did the admissions office get my mom’s address anyway?

There’s so much to do before I turn in my applications online. I still have to take the SAT, work on my essays, résumé and letters of recommendation not to mention fill out the financial aid information for both of my parents. The most difficult of all my tasks will be deciding which schools to apply to. Daddy’s church program only pays for the first ten and I’m not planning on going past that number. Free always sounds good to me.

“Can you believe this shit?” Mickey says, pulling into the driveway and waving a large manila envelope out of her window. Apparently
Mickey’s dealing with a special delivery of her own.

“What are you doing on this side of town?” I ask, relocking the box. Mickey rarely travels to the Westside.

“I came to kick Nigel’s ass and I need back up,” Mickey says, reaching across the passenger’s side and unlocking the door. Her classic car doesn’t have the modern conveniences Chase had installed into his equally old ride.

“Mickey, I’m not getting involved in whatever ongoing beef you’ve got with my boy.” I step off of the porch and walk past Mickey’s car toward my mom’s apartment.

“Are you wearing the same thing you had on last night?” Mickey asks. Even in the midst of her blind rage she’s still fashion conscious much like her BFF, Nellie.

“Yes, and I’m going upstairs to change before I handle some business of my own.”

“Jayd, you have to come with me,” Mickey says, slowly following me. “Nigel’s demanding that I take Nickey in for a paternity test. Is this nigga serious?”

             
“Well, you did challenge him,” I say. “And with Mrs. Esop in his corner Nigel might have a valid case.” If Mama and I didn’t have that je no sais quoi with Chase’s mom, Mrs. Esop might be a partner in Netta’s Never Nappy Beauty Shop as we speak.

             
“Whose side are you on, Jayd?”

             
“Nickey’s,” I say, matter-of-factly. In case she doesn’t know I need to remind her again that I’m here for the good her daughter, damn the rest.

             
“I can’t stand up to them alone,” Mickey says, sounding vulnerable. “I can’t let them take my daughter, Jayd. Please come with me. And I’m sorry about what happened to your mom’s car last night. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go after we leave Nigel’s house.”

             
A ride to hell incarnate or ride the bus from Inglewood to Compton on a hot Saturday afternoon: tough choice but one will probably take much longer than the other. Besides, maybe I can talk some sense into both of them before it’s too late. “Give me five minutes.”

When we pull up to the mini mansion in Lafayette Square I notice Chase’s Nova parked in the driveway. Mrs. Esop’s in her rose garden, her usual spot on a sunny day. She looks up over her sunglasses as we walk up the long driveway; her expression is anything but welcoming.

“Jayd, why on Earth would you bring that girl to our home?” Mrs. Esop asks, like I drove here. “You know she’s not welcomed on my property.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Esop,” I say, attempting to be cordial.

“Good morning my ass,” Mickey says, ending the niceties. “Where’s your son? We need to talk.”

“He’s right where he should be,” Mrs. Esop says looking at her pristine flora. “Far away from you.”

“I thought I smelled a hoodrat,” Nigel says, appearing in the front doorway. Chase nods what up at me and disappears into the background. “I see you got the package. Gotta love FedEx.”

“You can go straight to hell, Nigel!” Mickey screams. “You’re not taking my baby away from me!” She attempts to open the screen door but it’s locked.

Nigel laughs at Mickey’s reaction. He’s getting way too much pleasure out of seeing his ex loose it this early in the morning. This is so unlike him. My crew doesn’t know it but Esmeralda’s spell is working too well and their ever-present drama’s making it easy for her to completely take over our lives.

“Did your friend here tell you that G knew about Mickey and Tre’s affair all along?” Nigel asks, dropping knowledge. “He didn’t mind killing his own friend, Jayd. That’s who Mickey chose to shack up with; a punk ass gangsta who killed his own boy, the same boy who saved my life.”

“Mickey, is this true?” I ask, appalled at the disclosure. “Please tell me Nigel’s got it wrong.”

Mickey looks shell-shocked not knowing what to say, but what can she say? Nothing can make that shit sound good if it’s the truth.

Mrs. Esop looks at Mickey break down and shakes her head at the pitiful sight.

“Hell yeah it’s true,” Nigel says. “She let everybody know it at the party last night. It was her final confession before she threw up everywhere, stupid drunk.”

“Nigel, manners,” Mrs. Esop says, always the etiquette police.

“How you gone try to come up in my life and take my baby, fool?” Mickey says, snapping back into full angry-black-woman mode. “My baby, Nigel! Not yours in any way, shape or form.”

“You should’ve thought of that before you tried to convince my son otherwise,” Mrs. Esop says from the sidelines.

Mickey’s neck snaps hard in her direction but she’s not crazy enough to respond to Mrs. Esop. She doesn’t need pruning shears to chop Mickey down to size and Mickey knows it. 

“Exactly my point, mom,” Nigel says, satisfied.

“You need to kick rocks, you little bitch,” Mickey says. “I got this; me and my man.” It’s one thing when a female calls another female a bitch. Hell, it’s even more tolerable when a dude calls a female a bitch. But when it happens in the reverse, it’s a whole other beast.

“What did you say to me, trick?” Nigel says
, opening the screen door. I’ve been waiting for his other shoe to drop and here it is, as funky as ever. I warned Mickey about pushing Nigel too far. Mostly he takes after his father’s cool side but Nigel can be a real jerk when he wants to be.

             
“You heard me, you little bitch. My man was right about you. That’s his pet name for you, you know: my little puppy dog, hound dog ass bitch.”

             
Mrs. Esop rises from her garden and removes her sun hat, ready to whip ass if need be: Compton never left the woman no matter what her new zip code may be.

             
“Mickey, I think we should go,” I say, trying to save Mickey’s neck and Nigel’s sanity. She has no idea how close to the edge he is right now.

             
“Mickey, you need to calm down,” Chase says, stepping outside in an attempt to further warn Mickey, but she’s really feeling herself this morning.

             
“What I need to do is kick your punk ass so hard that you’ll never be able to have your own babies. That’ll teach you to mess with somebody else’s kid.”

“Y
ou need to talk some sense into your girl, Jayd. Now.” Something in Nigel’s tone puts everything into perspective and I don’t like what I see.

Thanks to Maman’s sight immediate future events play out like movie scenes in my head: Mickey kicks Nigel, Nigel slaps Mickey hard to the ground, and then the police are called. Nigel goes to jail and looses any chance he has of getting into UCLA or any other school, Mickey looses custody of her daughter for being an unfit parent, and Esmeralda wins round two.

“Mickey, you’ve got to chill out, for real,” I say, pulling Mickey’s arm toward the car but she’s not budging.

“What’s Nigel going to do,
Jayd?” Mickey says, snatching her arm away from me. “He can’t do a damned thing to me or my baby, punk ass fool. He needs to come off of his high horse and apologize for leaving me and my baby at Rah’s house without him. Rah wanted to act like my daddy all the time, telling me what time to put Nickey to bed and what to feed her, blah blah blah. No wonder Sandy left his ass,” Mickey says. Did I just hear her side with Sandy when just a few months ago she was putting Sandy’s stuff out on the curb at Rah’s house? What the hell?

“Mickey, do you hear yourself talking?
” I ask, trying to snap her out of it. “You sound like you’re losing it again. Have you been taking your meds?”

“Whatever,
Jayd,” Mickey says, evading my question about Dr. Whitmore’s post-natal prescription. Esmeralda’s diabolical vitamins jacked her up and I had to undo that mess, too. “I’m finally seeing Nigel for the chump that he is. I’m filing for child support, since you want to be the baby daddy so bad. That’ll show you that I’m not to be messed with.”

“
Go right ahead and do that, little girl,” Mrs. Esop says, joining her son on the porch steps. “It’ll just make our case that much stronger against you, you little gold digging hussy.”

I step in front of Mickey
and face her, preventing her from taking another step forward. She’s going to look me in the eye and chill out whether she likes it or not.

“I’m not afraid of you, Mrs. Esop,” Mickey shouts over my shoulder. “You think you run
the world but you don’t run shit. Hell, you couldn’t even keep your son from leaving your house with all of that damn money y’all are sitting on. If you had just let us move in when I said so wouldn’t be in this damn mess right now.”

“Really, Mickey?
” Chase says, tired of the bull. “That’s what got you into this mess?”

“Yes, white boy.
It really is.”

“No, Mickey. Your lying and cheating is what got us all into this mess on so many levels.
Wake up and take responsibility for once in your life,” I say, snapping my fingers in her face.

“You’re crazy, Jayd,” Mickey says, slapping my hand away. “I should’ve known you’d take his side, you little traitor.”