Chapter

Seven

Mama stumbled in around 5:00 a.m., two days later. I heard her mumbling as she sat on the bed, plopping her shoes onto the concrete floor of the bedroom we shared. I knew Mama had been partying because the room smelled of alcohol and cigarettes.

I wanted to talk to her, but I settled for laying quietly and listening to her voice. I wondered what adventures she had been on that night. Had she finally found the man of her dreams?

I wanted Mama to be happy, but I felt that if she found a man, she would leave me like she always did. After hearing Mama ramble around for a while, the room was silent. I couldn’t go back to sleep. I laid there and listened to Mama’s snores and the sound of the crickets outside our window. It almost sounded like a fancy tune.

While I laid there, I thought about what my daddy looked like. I imagined the smile on his face when he saw me, and how it would feel when he hugged me. I was shaken out of my daydream by the sound of Mama’s voice. “Nikki, go get me some water.” I got out of the bed and shuffled around with my foot, looking for my house shoe to escape the coldness of the concrete floor.

“Hurry up!” Mama yelled.

Startled, I jumped up and ran up the stairs to get Mama a cold drink. When I returned, Mama was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Mama.”

Mama drank the water and laid back down, pulling the covers over her head to let me know she no longer wanted to be bothered. I laid down and attempted to go back to sleep. I couldn’t because the sun peeking through the blinds had an energizing effect on me. My body felt tired, but I couldn’t sleep. Instead, I went outside, sat on the porch and watched the sun come up.

The city seemed so still. No cars were zooming down the block and no kids were hanging in the streets—it was just me. My head was filled with images of leaving St. Louis. I thought about asking Mama about my daddy, but I feared her reaction. All she ever told me was how he was a piece of crap. I expected the same or worse.

How will I get to my daddy? I don’t even know where he lives. Even if I found him, how would I get there? Maybe, I’ll get a job? It will take too long to save money. Who can I ask? I got it! André.

I snuck inside to look at the time on the stove. “Seven o’clock. Okay I’ll wait until 10:00 to call him.” I hadn’t talked to André since the night after we did it. I paged him a few times, but he never called back. I wondered if Sean was right—had he just used me for sex? Ten o’clock came and I paged André. After 30 minutes, he didn’t call back. I paged again. An hour passed and he still didn’t call back. Furious, I called his house. No answer.

Is he ignoring me?

I sat by the phone for the rest of the morning, waiting for André’s call. Every time the phone rang, I picked it up on the first ring.

“Hello, André?”

“No, is Lee there?”

“Hold on.” I huffed and yelled Lee’s name down the stairs.

I plopped myself in a dining room chair. Soon after, Meechie came in with a head wrap on and decked out in her favorite holey green housecoat.

“What’s wrong with you now?”

“Nothing,” I replied.

“It don’t look like nothing is wrong with you.”

I sighed, “I been paging, André but he ain’t called back.”

Meechie laughed and said, “Girl, please. That boy probably got two or three girlfriends. He ain’t thinking about you. What, you think y’all go together?” She paused, and then laughed.

“Yep!” I retorted, rolling my neck and sticking out my lips.

“Girl, you stupid! Boys like that don’t go with girls like you. Your booty ain’t big enough.”

“Yes, it is!” I got up out of my funk to show Meechie my butt. “See?” I showed her my little butt encased in my size 3 jeans.

“That little thing? Girl, shut up!”

“Whatever. He wasn’t saying that when I saw him the other night.” Realizing I said too much, I quickly covered my mouth.

Meechie stopped dead in her tracks. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“Yes, you did.” Meechie looked me up and down. “Ooh, you did it to him, didn’t you?”

I just looked at Meechie with a blank stare.

“When? You better tell me before I tell your mama!”

“I’m not telling you nothing!”

“Have it your way. AUNTIE!!”

“All right, all right. Shhhh…! Yeah, we did it.”

“I knew it! You a fast little girl, ain’t you?” Meechie taunted me. “Did it hurt?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened after?”

“Nothing. He walked me to Mama’s friend’s house and told me to call him.”

“You ain’t talked to him?”

I lied, to save face, because I knew Meechie would never let me live down the fact that she was right about André. “Yeah, a couple times.”

“He probably has a girlfriend.”

“No, he don’t!”

“Nikki, wake up. André is a dope boy. All the girls like him. What makes you think he would choose you over girls with big butts and bamboo earrings? You still wearing yesterday’s clothes.”

“Because he said he likes me.”

“Girl, you stupid. Keep on waiting by the phone like a dummy.”

Meechie was right. André never called that day or the next. I had beeped him so many times, I finally gave up. I guess he doesn’t like me.

Eventually, my hurt feelings turned into anger. I tore the paper André wrote his number on into little pieces. It didn’t matter—I knew it by heart.

I hate him. I was stupid to have sex with him. What was I thinking?

Through the wee hours of the night, I laid in my bed listening to couples profess their love on the Quiet Storm radio show. I couldn’t help but think about what our relationship could have been, as the sound of Keith Sweat’s song, Right and a Wrong Way danced in my ears.

“I hate André. I hope he dies!”

I closed my eyes and, before I knew it, morning had come. I rolled over and sat up, looking for Mama in her bed, but she was gone. In the distance, I could hear the phone ringing. André! I zoomed up the stairs to catch it before the last ring.

“Hello…Hello!”

“You asleep?” the voice said on the end of the receiver. It was Keisha from around the corner. Meechie introduced her to me last summer. Keisha knew everyone; not to mention she also knew all the latest gossip.

“Nah, I just got up.”

“You still talking to André?”

“Yeah. Who told you?”

“Your cousin, but never mind that.”

“That damn Meechie, she talks too much!” I mumbled.

“Did you hear the news?”

“What news?”

“André got shot the other night.”

“What? Is he all right?”

“Nikki….He’s dead.”

My heart stopped for a moment and shock took over my body. All I could do was hold the phone.

“Girl, stop playing!” My ears were ringing and my eyes were full of tears.

“I’m not. André and his cousins were on Euclid sitting in the car and somebody shot it up.”

“How do you know it was him?”

“My cousin Joe is friends with Dré and his family. He told me. I tried to call you.”

Damn, I thought. Did I kill André? I mean, I was mad, but I didn’t mean for him to die.

“When did he get shot?” I asked Keisha.

“I’m not sure, but I think the other day.”

The other day? That was the last time I spoke to him.

“Hello… Nikki, you still there?”

“I’ll call you back.”

I hung up the phone and sat on the couch. So, the whole time I was calling him, he was dead? I felt horrible for calling him all of those names. All I could think about was André laying in that car, dead. He seemed like a cool dude. Why would anyone want to do that to him? I felt robbed. Someone had stolen my dream of getting away from Mama. André is dead. What will I do now?

In shock, I attempted to make sense of the news I just heard. Keisha’s wrong. I’m going to call.

I picked up the phone, but hung it up. What if he really is dead? I took a deep breath, picked up the phone again and dialed André’s number. The phone rang, once, twice, and then, on the third ring, a man’s voice came on the line.

“Hello.”

I paused and cleared my throat “Umm, is André there?”

“No, baby. André is dead. Please don’t call here again.”

“Okay.” I slowly hung up the phone.

I felt bad that I no longer had André, but I felt worse for the man on the phone. He sounded broken and exhausted. It was clear he could take no more. My heart also ached for his mother. I couldn’t imagine losing a child who was 17. I didn’t know him that well, but he seemed to be a smart guy. I guess his only mistake was dope dealing and being in the wrong place.

I rushed into Meechie’s room to tell her the news. “Meechie…Meechie.”

“What do you want, girl? I’m asleep.”

“André is dead,” I whispered.

“What?”

“I said, André is dead.” I raised my voice.

“How you know?”

“Keisha just called me.”

“How she know?”

“She said her cousin told her.”

“Girl, you know Keisha likes to gossip. She might have the wrong information.”

“Nah, I called his house and his daddy said he was dead.”

Meechie sat up in the bunk bed she shared with Erin. “For real? When did he get shot?”

“I don’t know.” I paused to wipe a tear running down my cheek. “I guess a few days ago.”

“Damn, that’s messed up. You all right?”

“No. I didn’t even get a chance to know him.”

“Come on. Let’s go outside.” Meechie got out of bed and draped herself in her holey green housecoat and we headed for the front porch.

I sat in my usual place on the second step and Meechie sat next to me.

“You going to his funeral?”

“I don’t know. Do you think I should go?”

“I would. At least to see him one last time.”

I wanted to go, but I felt embarrassed. The only thing me and André had in common was him taking my virginity on a dirty mattress. I imagined his mother asking me how I met him and me responding, “We had sex a few nights before he died.” What would she think of me?

“I don’t even know his last name. How will I know when his funeral is?”

“I’m sure blabbermouth Keisha knows. We’ll ask her,” Meechie said.

“Yeah, how did she know I was talking to him anyway?” I knew the answer, but I wanted to see what she had to say.

Meechie looked guilty, as if she had done something wrong. “I told her.”

“Meechie!” I fussed.

“What? I was trying to look out for you. But, that’s not the worst of it…”

I turned my whole body to face Meechie. Her body language told me she was going to say something I wouldn’t take lightly. “What did you do, Meechie?”

“I told Keisha that André didn’t know how old you were and she told him.”

“What! Meechie, why did you do that?”

“I didn’t mean to. It just came out.”

Me and Meechie had only fought one time before, when she said something nasty about Mama, but that day I wanted to punch her in the face. I caught myself, but the anger I felt was so intense, I had to get away from her. I jumped to my feet and walked down the three concrete steps that adorned Grandma’s house. I stopped and turned before I reached the street. “Meechie, you know Keisha likes to talk. That was so stupid.”

Meechie looked to her foot resting on the step. “Wait…there’s more.”

I walked towards Meechie. My heart was beating so hard, I had to sit down. I couldn’t find the words, so I stared at her.

“Keisha told him how old you are,” Meechie said slowly and softly. “So he was going to come and confront you, but I guess he got killed before he had a chance.”

I put my hand over my mouth. Is that why he wasn’t calling me back?

“Sorry, Nikki. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”

No longer able to face Meechie, I walked away. I had just received the worst news of my life twice in one day. Maybe this is God’s way of punishing me for lying? I walked around the neighborhood until my legs grew tired. When I came home, Meechie wasn’t there and the house was quiet.

For the rest of the evening, I laid in my bed and thought about André. His smile was imprinted in my brain along with visions of that night we spent together.

I wondered if the condom he wore actually worked. I lost my virginity for nothing. I should’ve listen to Sean. Then panic set in. Oh, my God! I hope I’m not pregnant!

The pain I felt ran deep. Feeling alone, I shifted into a tight ball until I no longer felt a void. I just cried. I was embarrassed that I put myself in that predicament, but angry at Mama for not being there. However, I knew if she ever found out about my mistake, she would jump at the chance to call me a ‘hoe’ and beat me.

I had no one to tell but God and myself. I looked under my mattress and dug out my journal. There had been so much going on over the last week, I had forgotten it was there. I knew my thoughts would be safe there. I could be vulnerable and share my true feelings. Plus, I always felt better when I wrote. I found a pen on the dresser next to Mama’s bed and wrote until the pain I felt went away.

 

Dear God,

I’m sure you know that André is dead. I feel bad about wishing he would die. I pray that my wish to kill him isn’t what made your decision. I hope you aren’t punishing me for having sex with him. I’m so sorry God, I will never do it again. Please take the pain I feel away. André, if you can hear me, I’m sorry that I lied to you. I hope you find peace in Heaven. I love you. Amen.