The Blackbirds (17 page)

Kwanzaa tried to calm Indigo as Indigo shouted at Olamilekan.

“Am I not good enough for you, Olamilekan?
Alailpoplo,
answer me.
Ode oshi
. Is a Nigerian not good enough for you? Is that the type of girl you want? Is she what you want? Every time you put your dick in a woman like that, you not only disrespect your Nigerian mother, but you disrespect Nigeria, you disrespect Africa, and I don't care if the girl is from Africa. You have disrespected me for the last time. Before I touch you again I will sleep with George Zimmerman. Before you ever speak my name again, you may as well go to the Holy Land and support apartheid and racism against Africans from Eritrea and Sudan. Go there and I hope they force you to get circumcised again and violate your rights as a human every day, as you have violated my rights as a woman. Don't sit there looking like a sad puppy. This is your doing, Olamilekan.”

“She means nothing to me, Indigo. I did not even try and help her.”

“Do I look stupid? Like I was born two hours ago? Your words do not possess even a modicum of the truth, and have no respect for my intelligence. I am not a stupid, crazy person.”

“I did not invite that woman to my home. The woman is a stalker. She is stalking me.”

“Do you love her? She cried out that she loved you, Olamilekan. At least that is what I think she said. I was too busy giving her a makeover to stop and ask her to repeat herself.”

“You have my heart, Indigo, and you know that.”

“That woman tries to dress sexy, but she is not. Dressing raunchy is
not dressing sexy. She comes to your door dressed like she is an escort. And you deal with her?”

“That woman knows you have my heart.”

“But what do I mean to you, Olamilekan? What do I mean to you? You have lied to me over and over. And now this? This is an insult. This is a travesty. Imbecile, this is an outrage.”

“Indigo, calm down. Did I not pay for everything at your birthday party today?”

“
Whole ass. You are cow manure. Castrated pig, castrated dog, you and that imbecilic goat, you and that witch ruined my birthday. I hope nothing good ever happens to your
muda
or your
fada
. I hope you marry that unfinished lab result and have a baby that looks like a zonkey
.”

Minutes later, a CBR sped to the location.

It was Destiny. Ericka quickly followed her.

Ericka said, “The girl left her car here, but is too scared to come back and get it.”

Indigo snapped, “I wish she would come back. I am not tired and I am not done.”

Indigo dared Olamilekan to even consider helping that girl.

She said, “If you leave me to follow her, never speak my name again.
Never.”

Olamilekan limped to his five-car garage, stood in front of his five luxury vehicles and three motorcycles. He chose his Mercedes. He eased inside, then went to go find the girl, to make sure she was okay, to make sure she wouldn't call the police. That was not the kind of Tiger Woods–style publicity he wanted. Indigo cursed him and threw rocks as he drove by her.

Olamilekan had left Indigo and gone after the other woman.

And he had done it on Indigo's birthday.

Ericka, Kwanzaa, and Destiny put their hands on Indigo, tried to absorb the negativity, but it was overwhelming, too powerful. It felt like Indigo could explode and destroy the world.

Touching her had been like putting their hands on the sun.

Indigo went back inside the estate to get her clothing, turning over any and everything she could as she walked through elegance. She
pulled clothing from Olamilekan's closet, took designer shoes and suits, threw the pile in the bathtub, and then opened a bottle of bleach. She left the water running, made it all swim toward new colors. She screamed, and as that fire inside her burned uncontrollably, she turned over whatever she had missed during the initial rampage. She went to the girl's car, carved the word
coward
into the paint a dozen times, then kicked off the side mirrors, behaved like she was doing a remake of a Jazmine Sullivan video. Tense, terrified, the Blackbirds stayed out of the path of the hurricane.

Soon Indigo was dressed in a negligee and a pair of her new birthday pumps, the sexy clothing she had worn to go booty-call Olamilekan. She pulled her trench coat back on.

She snapped at the Blackbirds. “Not a goddamn word. Not a word. Not one word.”

She was back in her Rubicon, inhaling the new-Jeep smell, speeding back toward Inglewood. Destiny sped up, got Indigo's attention, and then signaled for her to slow the hell down. She did slow down and let everyone else get in the front. She fell back behind Destiny, called Yaba and told him what Olamilekan had just done, called him because she needed to vent, ranted as they trailed Ericka and Kwanzaa back to their complex known as Little Lagos.

She asked Yaba, “Am I a horrible person? Will every man I meet do this to me?”

“I love you, Indigo.”

“And you did the same thing.”

“Forgive me.”

“I've forgiven you, but I will never forget. No one forgets the sting of a scorpion.”

“Take me back into your heart.”

“We are just friends now, Yaba. I'm not trying to be any more than that.”

“Give me one more chance.”

“So my heart can be broken again?”

“I would never break your heart again.”

“You never should have broken it the first time.”

Yaba asked her to calm down, apologized for how his relationship with her had ended.

She asked, “Should I just give up? Should I join a convent and become a nun?”

Indigo parked her Rubicon between her CBR and her convertible BMW, turned off the engine, ended her call in the middle of Yaba's trying to comfort her. She hung up on him, then sat in her Jeep crying, angry, embarrassed, again the broken-down Taylor Swift. The Beyoncé in her had been crushed.

The Blackbirds came to her and she eased out of her Jeep and slammed the door. As they had done before, Ericka, Destiny, and Kwanzaa each put a hand on Indigo and they stood still for a moment.

Indigo thanked them, gave each a hug, gave each a kiss, then walked away, the Blackbirds following her clacking heels as she took slow steps past the pool and moved toward their building.

Indigo didn't say anything else until they were all inside her well-appointed apartment, seated, watching her, concerned.

Indigo vented as she yanked off her negligee and pulled on UCLA sweats.

“I am ashamed of myself. What I did was a very disgraceful act. That was worse than Nigerian and Ghanaian students fighting over the origin of Jollof rice and the world knows you should use fat-grain rice. I used my fists. And a boot. An intelligent Nigerian woman should display class and integrity, not trashiness, no matter the situation. I am too smart to behave this way. I am about organizing, public advocacy, civil disobedience when it is called for, and for social change that will benefit all of mankind, not about lowering my standards and fighting some
thot
in the middle of the night.
Not even on my birthday
. Olamilekan is not worth what I flush away in a toilet. I should have walked away and let her have him. My emotions got the best of me when she disrespected me.
On my birthday
. They pulled me down to their
ghetto
level. Olamilekan told me that he was through with the girl, that she came tonight because he had ended whatever they had, and swore on his grandfather's grave all he told me was true.”

At the same time, Destiny, Ericka, and Kwanzaa snapped, “He's lying.”

Indigo said, “Stupidity took over me. I am trying to lift myself up, but Olamilekan has not only ruined my birthday, which is
unforgivable,
but has caused me to degenerate my morals. Nigeria would not be proud of me tonight. My mother and father must never know.”

Indigo's cellular rang. Olamilekan's ringtone. She rejected the call.

Bright lights flashed at the gates, the horn blowing over and over.

Olamilekan had followed Indigo home and was at the gate.

Olamilekan called out in the night, told Indigo he loved her and would do anything. He begged to be let inside.

Indigo yelled for him to get away from her property and go have sex with stupid women.

As he stood at the gate, he recited the poem “Candle” by Vee Bdosa, proclaimed how he would live for Indigo until the day he died. He stripped away his clothing down to his black boxers, adding that he was not only baring his soul, but he was coming to her as he was born. He was being so damn dramatic, like he was the brokenhearted star in a Nollywood film.

He said he would stand naked if he had to.

He yelled he would go on a hunger strike to get her back into his life.

He screamed he would pray and fast.

He stood at the gate calling Indigo's name, begging for forgiveness.

Indigo sent the other Blackbirds back to their apartments.

Then she picked up a steak knife and stormed to the gate to yell at Olamilekan.

“I want the truth, Olamilekan. May thunder fire you if you keep lying to me. If you are not sincere, go away. I want the truth or I will cut it from you, use it to make a pot of stew and rice, will use your tongue to make soup for fufu, and feed it to you as you lay in the streets bleeding.”

After a half hour of arguing and pleading, Indigo opened the gate. Olamilekan stood shivering in his underwear until Indigo told him to put his clothes back on. He tried to touch Indigo, but she wouldn't let
him. Now Destiny and Ericka were in Kwanzaa's apartment, below Indigo's unit, the lights off, each Blackbird peeping out the window, each adding negative commentary.

Kwanzaa said, “She gave in too soon. I was hoping we'd see him get naked.”

Indigo and Olamilekan stood outside and argued, the conversation passionate, loud, emotional. Soon she let him touch her. He touched her hand, held on to her pinky finger like she was a balloon he was trying to keep from floating away. Then he held two fingers and she kept her arms extended to keep him away. After a couple of moments Indigo lowered her arm, and Olamilekan touched her chin. He touched her chin and she slapped his hand away. But then she let him get closer. Closer. She didn't strike him. Soon he hugged her. Soon he kissed her cheek.

Ericka said, “No, no, no, no, no.”

Soon Indigo's arms were around Olamilekan's neck. He touched her face again, put his hands on her waist, and soon his hands were on her ass. He tried to kiss her and she kept turning her face away. He persisted. He held Indigo's face, her head tilted to the side, and eased his tongue in her mouth. She reciprocated, put her tongue in his mouth.

Ericka, Kwanzaa, and Destiny were all in the window, appalled, each saying some version of the word
no
over and over.

Lights still off so they could see without being seen, they watched Indigo take his hand, her head lowered because she knew the Blackbirds were watching her in what was not her finest hour. Olamilekan followed her up the stairs, his weight heavy, his footsteps strong. The argument continued, but the argument stayed outside Indigo's apartment.

Kwanzaa cracked the door so they could try to hear what was going on.

Not long after, the door to Indigo's apartment opened.

That same door closed.

There were no dejected footsteps coming down the stairs.

Indigo had taken Olamilekan inside her crib.

Footsteps moved from the living room to the bedroom at an unsure pace.

There was silence.

No argument.

Destiny said, “They're kissing. I bet she's letting him kiss her on the mouth, when she needs to bend over and let him kiss her black ass until his lips go numb and fall off.”

Ericka scrunched her face. “I bet he's going down on her. That's how they get you back.”

Kwanzaa said, “Brothers won't go down on the regular, but will eat you out to apologize.”

There was a long, slow, sinking squeak, like a man's weight on a woman. It could have been the weight of a tall woman when she reluctantly straddled a man she loved and hated.

Next a dozen creaks filled the air, each creak more intense than the one before. Then steady, slow, rhythmic squeaks, continual movement.

Ericka and Destiny at her side, Kwanzaa opened her bedroom window, the window directly under Indigo's bedroom window. They heard Indigo and Olamilekan making up.

Kwanzaa said, “What the hell? She had us up in the middle of the night, driving across the damn state, and this is what she does? I should go up there and beat on the door.”

Ericka yawned. “I am too tired to deal with this mess. Just let it remain their issue.”

“To hell with that. I'm not going to sip tea like Kermit. This is our business as Blackbirds.”

Destiny said, “Sit your short ass down, Kwanzaa.”

Music came on upstairs. Tiwa Savage singing “Get Low.” That meant that Indigo's inner Beyoncé, Rihanna, and Lady Gaga were about to be unchained. It meant Africa was rising.

One by one, Ericka, Destiny, and Kwanzaa shook their heads.

Destiny said, “That's how it was with my mom and dad. Argue, fight, get emotional, then end up in bed. Some people get off on the drama, then need to get off because of the drama. Indigo and Olamilekan are like that.”

Ericka said, “Really? Your dad . . . Mr. and Mrs. Jones were like Indigo and Olamilekan?”

“There were no other women, just drama, fighting, perpetual conflict, and mistaking ten minutes of sex for resolution.”

Ericka shook her head. “Oh. Okay. When I'm angry, sex is the last thing I want.”

Kwanzaa said, “My mom and bonus dad are the same way, at least they used to be. They'd fight and I guess my bonus dad would bone my mom until she was limp like a rag doll. I heard my dad and bonus mom were the same way when I was a little girl. Par for the course. Marcus and me used to fight, then end up having the
best
sex ever. Okay, let's change the subject. I don't need to remember certain things when I don't have access to a man, or some well-educated woman who wants to take me to the Lobster before making me a pair of scissors.”

Destiny said, “Yeah, Dad did the same thing with my mom. Turned her into a rag doll.”

Ericka whispered, “Wow. Maybe I should change my attitude about angry sex.”

Destiny said, “Indigo is our Chimamanda, not a
Fake Housewife of Atlanta
. I don't understand why she would even talk to him after tonight, let alone let him inside the gate.”

Kwanzaa said, “She's let that cheating low-down dog inside more gates than one.”

Ericka spoke up. “We all get the love we think we deserve. If that jerk, that
goat,
is the best she thinks she can do, if that's as good as she sees her life, if what's going on tonight is what she thinks she can handle, if this behavior and conflict is really what excites her, and she must love it because she keeps doing this cha-cha with Olamilekan over and over, then it's not for us to judge, not up to us to decide her life for her, even if we know she deserves better.”

Destiny said, “Ericka, lower your voice. Don't wake up the whole damn neighborhood.”

Kwanzaa talked louder, “Nelson Mandela is turning over in his grave and so is Steve Biko. This is so wrong. She's up there getting the grace of God put in her after he's cheated, and I'm supposed to shut up? I'm going to break in her apartment and drag Olamilekan out to the street, beat Mr. NFL naked, kick his butt like we're at a Mike Epps comedy show, beat him like Rodney King, and hold Olamilekan's nasty drawers
over my head. And yeah, I hope that cheating, low-down asshole can hear me, piece of shit. You're a
mitch
. A goddamn
mitch.”

Destiny said, “Kwanzaa, don't.”

“We should've chipped in and bought her a damn chastity belt for her birthday.”

Destiny shook her head. “Let her deal with it. Everybody come to my crib and crash. You can't hear them as much in my unit. Grab a pillow and follow me home. I'm done. I need some sleep.”

Kwanzaa yelled, “I hope she is using a condom. I hope she's making him use a condom covered with a Hefty bag and she's wearing a female condom inside a Glad bag. She just chased his bald-and-bloodied side chick off his estate.
Protect yourself, Indigo
. If our Blackbird lets the wrong dick inside, her coochie will have more problems than that old Vista operating system.”

Destiny said, “Well, at least he chose a black woman. And no offense to your yellow ass, Ericka, but he chose a dark-skinned black woman at that, over a
Playboy
centerfold with big tits.”

“I'm offended.”

Kwanzaa said, “When a sister wins, well, I guess Indigo had a good birthday after all.”

Destiny said, “I hope Olamilekan went home before he came across the freeways.”

Ericka asked, “Why?”

“Indigo left the bathtub filled with bleached clothing and the hot water running.”

Ericka huffed. “In that case, I hope he didn't go home before he came here.”

Kwanzaa nodded. “That's what his ass gets. She should have done a Left Eye and set the place on fire, and I would have prayed the fool didn't have any insurance on that castle.”

Cool winds blew across the desert as songbird Tiwa Savage sang, but it became a duet between Nigerian singers when Indigo's cellular rang over and over. As her phone rang, the creaks and moans came to an abrupt halt. Olamilekan said something unkind. Indigo retorted. They
had harsh words. Then Indigo's landline rang. The bed creaked like someone was getting up, and feet marched across the room. Heavy steps. Had to be Olamilekan. Roosters crowed. Dogs barked, and at the apartment buildings in the vicinity, lights came on, laborers starting their day. Upstairs, Indigo's cellular rang again. And again. It wasn't one of the Blackbirds calling. The ringtone was a Nigerian love song.

Kwanzaa looked at the time on her phone. “Shit. It's almost five in the morning, I'm dog tired, and now it's almost time for me to get dressed for work. I have to open at Starbucks.”

They heard Indigo's revived anger. They heard her resuscitated resentment.

The Blackbirds went to the window and listened.

Indigo cursed Olamilekan for answering her phone. Olamilekan shouted insults in Yorùbá as Indigo yelled vulgarities. Olamilekan shouted Yaba's name as if his rival were standing at Indigo's front door. Ericka, Kwanzaa, and Destiny hurried toward the next round of the fight.

They went to Indigo's front door, and stood there, heard more of the argument.

Kwanzaa said, “Holy catch-a-mota-check. Isn't that Yaba's ride outside the gate?”

They looked toward Crenshaw Boulevard.

Yaba was parked behind Olamilekan's car.