KEYSHA
It was 6:00 p.m. when Grandmother Katie and I pulled into the driveway. I was a nervous wreck and had no clue how severe my punishment would be. When Grandmother Katie turned off the engine I sat in my seat, afraid and frozen.
“Come on. You knew you had to face them at some point. You might as well go on in and get it over with so we can all move forward with our lives.” Grandmother Katie wanted me to hold myself accountable for my actions.
“This isn’t going to be pretty, is it?” I asked as I glanced over at her.
“What you did was unthinkable, but you’re being given another chance. Remember what I told you about not taking this family’s love for granted. Now get out and go on inside. I have to make a run to the pharmacy up the street.”
“You mean you’re not going to come in with me? I need your protection.” I suddenly felt as if I were being thrown to a pack of wolves.
“It’s not my place to interfere with or tell Jordan and Barbara how to raise you. I came to pick you up because I didn’t want the police involved. I didn’t want to see you locked up and placed back into the system and neither did Jordan or Barbara, but you left them with few options, Keysha.”
“You’re right,” I said, accepting the difficult position I’d placed the family in. I opened the car door and got out. Grandmother Katie pulled off before I rang the doorbell. When Jordan came to the door he stepped aside and let me in.
“Hello,” I greeted him politely. I avoided eye contact with him and looked at the ground.
“Are you okay?” I didn’t expect him to ask that question. Jordan tilted my head up and gazed into my eyes.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Step into my office. Barbara and I would like to discuss this with you,” he said as he shut the door. I suddenly felt the urge to pee.
“Can I go to the bathroom first?” I asked.
“Yes,” Jordan said.
I walked up the stairs and into the bathroom. Shortly thereafter, I walked into the basement and into Jordan’s office. There were three chairs all facing each other. I sat down in the empty seat and remained silent.
“First of all, how is Wesley doing?” Barbara asked.
“I think he’s going to be fine. He was able to sit up and talk,” I said as I repositioned myself in the seat.
“Where was he shot?” Jordan asked.
“In the shoulder,” I answered.
“So he’s going to pull through, right?” Barbara asked as she leaned forward and rested her elbows on her thighs.
“Yes,” I answered with a trembling voice.
“Good,” Barbara stated before repositioning herself in her chair.
Jordan jumped right in and let his feelings be known. “This entire incident has left a very sour taste in my mouth, Keysha. You disobeyed me, you fought me and you ran away from me. I called the police and made plans for you to be placed into a mental hospital.”
“A mental hospital?” I glanced into his eyes to see if he was for real.
“Yes. I wanted you to be detained pending a psychiatric evaluation.”
“But I’m not crazy.” I wanted to make that very clear.
“Keysha, you did a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn on me when I found you at the bus station. You were acting like a totally different person.” For the first time I was seeing myself through Jordan’s eyes.
“I thought I was doing the right thing.” I tried to get them to understand the incident from my perspective.
“By boldly defying us?” Barbara asked.
“I didn’t mean to rebel or fight back the way I did. I’m sorry for what I did.”
“I don’t know. I still think we should get you some professional help. I know of a place that deals with teenagers in need of mental therapy.” Jordan wasn’t convinced that my outburst was an isolated incident.
“You guys can’t be serious,” I countered, feeling as if they were just joking around.
“Oh, no, we’re very serious, Keysha.” Barbara gave me a look that sent a chill down my spine. I knew she wasn’t playing around.
“I’m sorry. I really am. I won’t do it again. Trust me. After what I went through with Wesley, I’ve certainly learned my lesson. You can punish me or do whatever, but please don’t ship me off to some mental hospital,” I said, apologizing for what I’d done.
“Does your mom have a history of mental illness, Keysha?” Barbara asked.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Did she seem to have two personalities?” Jordan asked.
“Of course she did. Justine is as crazy as—” I caught myself and stopped speaking.
“It could be a genetic thing,” Jordan said to Barbara, who seemed to be agreeing with him.
“You guys are freaking me out here. Yes, my mother is crazy, but she’s always been that way. I’m nothing like her. I’m not mentally challenged in any way.” I once again tried to reassure them of my sanity.
“How can we be sure, Keysha? What assurances do we have that you won’t have another outburst and do something like this again?” asked Barbara, who looked me directly in the eyes.
“I promise you.” I started tearing up. For the first time I realized the severity of what I’d done. “I will never, ever pull a stunt like that again. I will be respectful and do as I’m told. Please do not ship me off to some nuthouse where they’ll strap me down to a table and leave me locked up in a padded room.” Jordan and Barbara looked at each other briefly, as if they were making some type of silent determination.
“Keysha, go up to your bedroom,” Jordan said. I didn’t say anything as I stood and exited the room. Jordan closed the door behind me, so I couldn’t hear what he and Barbara were talking about.
I walked into my bedroom and crash-landed facedown on my bed. I rested for twenty minutes before getting back up to turn on my computer. As my computer was booting up, Mike entered.
“How did it go?” he asked as he sat down on my bed. “How much trouble are you in?”
“Oh, I’m in some pretty deep water. They’re talking about shipping me off to a mental institution. Have they ever threatened to send you to the nuthouse?” I asked Mike.
“No, never. That’s pretty deep, though,” Mike said, feeling empathy for me.
“How are things going for you?” I asked, wanting to know if Jordan had forgiven him yet for wrecking his car.
“About the same. I wish I could turn back the hands of time and undo all of the stuff I’ve done, but I can’t. By the way, how is Wesley doing?” Mike asked.
“Please. Don’t even mention his name to me,” I said, not wanting to deal with the memory of what I saw at the hospital.
“That bad, eh?” Mike asked.
“You have no idea. How is your girlfriend, Sabrina?”
“She’s cool. I’ve talked to her a few times. She wants to hook up once I come off of being grounded.”
“How long will you be tied down for?” I asked.
“Don’t know. Jordan didn’t give me a set amount of time. At this point, it is what it is,” Mike said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Grandmother Katie should be back soon,” I informed him as I kicked off my shoes.
“Cool, I’m going down to the spare bedroom and get some of my stuff out of there. She’s probably going to stay for the night.”
“Yeah she is,” I confirmed. Mike exited my bedroom and walked down the hall. Once my computer was up, I typed in www.myspace.com/keyshasdrama and checked to see if I’d gotten any e-mails or hits to my page. As soon as I logged in I got an instant message from Maya via Skype.
Maya: Where u been?
Keysha: It’s a long story.
Maya: I sent u a bazillion txt mgs. Y U ain’t answer me?
Keysha: Fone is dead. Need 2 recharge it.
Maya: Who’s computer r u on?
Keysha: Mine. I’m @ home now.
Maya: When u get back?
Keysha: Not 2 long ago.
Maya: They let u back in da house?
Keysha: Yeah, but they talkin’ bout puttin’ me in a mental hospital.
Maya: Mental hospital! R U serious?
Keysha: Yeah. They think I got a split personality or somethin’.
Maya: Damn.
Keysha: I no. Try n 2 let them no I ain’t crazy like that.
Maya: How u get back home so quick?
Keysha: Grandmother came & got me.
Maya: So u think yo folks really gonna ship u off 2 da funny farm?
Keysha: I hope not. Will keep u posted though.
Maya: K.
Keysha: How u been? N E thing new going on?
Maya: Did I tell u I went to planned parenthood?
Keysha: What? When u do that and what 4?
Maya: 2 get some birth control pills. Thinking bout doing it with Misalo.
Keysha: 4 real?
Maya: Yeah I think I’m ready 4 it.
Keysha: Girl u need 2 b real sure b-cause dudes will start acting funny on u once they get it.
Maya: Misalo is not like that. He loves me. We R so into each other. It’s hard 2 put in 2 words. All I no is our romance needs 2 b made into a movie b-cause it is so strong.
Keysha: Huh, that’s the way I used 2 feel about Wesley until I walked in on him and saw lipstick all over his face.
Maya: Well Misalo is not like Wesley. He would never do something stupid like that b-cause he knows I would go totally loco on his azz.
Keysha: Say what u want 2 but my love is on lockdown.
Maya: Well, my love is open and ready 4 business. But when u get off of da love lock down thing, let me no b-cause I no where u can get some birth control pills w/o a lot of drama.
Keysha: Where at?
Maya: Planned Parenthood. Same place where I got mine.
Keysha: Nope. I am kool 4 now but I hope u no what u r doing.
Maya: Don’t hate!
Keysha: I ain’t hatin’ on u. I’m just sayin’ make sure he don’t get it & then start acting all stupid.
Maya: Misalo isn’t stupid.
Keysha: Neither was Wesley until Lori came along.
Maya: Stop comparing Misalo to Wesley. U pissin’ me off with dat.
Keysha: Sorry. Just tryin’ to b a good friend.
Maya: Then just b supportive.
Keysha: OK.
Maya: U coming to school in the morning?
Keysha: Yes.
Maya: Tryouts for the school play is this week. There R A lot of open slots. U should consider reading 4 a part.
Keysha: I will think about it. G2G. I hear people coming. TTYL.
I arrived at school early the next morning, so I could stop in the cafeteria, grab a doughnut and catch up with Maya. I’d just sat down when Maya showed up and slammed her books down on the table.
“Watch my stuff for me while I grab something to eat,” she said as she stepped away. She had on a pink-and-blue Rocawear hoodie with a blue jean skirt and white All Star gym shoes. Her outfit was cute. When Maya returned she sat down across the table from me.
“I swear some of the kids at this school are just too ignorant for words,” Maya complained.
“What’s wrong?” I inquired as I bit into my doughnut.
“Nothing, I just overheard some guys who were standing in line talking about how they planned to fight some other kids after school over at Mr. Subs. That is so stupid. Why would you go to a restaurant just to fight?”
“I don’t know. When I get into it, I just fight. I don’t pick a venue first,” I answered honestly.
“Well, that’s different. I mean if you’re defending yourself or something like that then it’s cool,” Maya huffed. “So what happened with your folks? How much trouble are you in?”
“God, we had this long drawn-out discussion last night once I got off the computer with you. They’re sending me to a psychiatrist for an evaluation to make sure I’m adjusting well and that I don’t have some hidden personality or some crap like that.”
“Damn! They aren’t playing, are they?” Maya was without a doubt surprised by my parents’ decision to schedule a session with a headshrinker.
“I really don’t want to go, but what other choice do I have?”
“Maybe it will be helpful,” Maya suggested.
“I don’t see how. I’m not crazy—at least I don’t think that I am.”
“You’re not crazy, well, at least not psychopathically insane.” Maya’s observations weren’t helping me to feel any better.
“After some fussing I agreed to go as long as I was just being evaluated,” I said.
“So when do you go?” Maya inquired.
“Barbara is calling today to schedule an appointment,” I said, dreading the entire idea.
“Did you get grounded, too?” Maya asked.
“Yeah, I’m on lockdown for a while. I can’t go to parties or anything. I have to come home directly after school and all that jazz.”
“Dang. I really wanted you to try out for the play.” Maya sounded disappointed.
“Maya, I’ve never done anything like that before. I’d probably suck at it.” I immediately shot down the idea.
“I think you’d be great. With a little help and some practice, I’m positive you’d be able to sharpen up your already awesome acting skills. You’re really a natural, at least in my opinion you are.”
“Is there any singing involved?” I was mildly curious.
“Yes, there is, but not very much and we sing as a group, primarily.”
“My grandmother told me I had a nice singing voice,” I confided.
“Really?” Maya answered, amazed by this news.
“Yes. When we were driving home we were singing in the car together. She believes that with some coaching I could do well.”
“See, that’s all the more reason you need to try out. The choir director is helping out with the play and you could pick up a few pointers if you make it.” Maya wasn’t willing to let me accept defeat without trying.
“Do you really think I have a chance?” I asked, uncertain of my ability.
“Of course I do. Look, as long as you know how to read and not stumble over your lines you’ll make it. Besides, I’ll help you,” Maya said.
“Well, let me ask if it’s okay. If I get permission, I’ll let you know and then we could set up some time to practice.”
“Really work on getting your folks to say yes. I want you to be a part of the drama club.” Maya glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got to run. I need to catch up with Misalo before class begins. You know how it is when you need a kiss before you go to class.” Maya was smiling from ear to ear as she gathered up her belongings and rushed off.
I came directly home after school like I was instructed. Once I got in the house, I called Jordan to let him know that I’d arrived safely.
“Is Mike in the house with you?” Jordan asked.
“Yes. He went out to the garage to get a ladder so he could change a lightbulb in his room,” I informed him.
“Okay, I should be home in a little while. Grandmother Katie left earlier today. She said she’d call you later on this evening. We’ve also scheduled an appointment for an evaluation.” Jordan was being very direct and to the point. I cringed at the thought of being evaluated. I didn’t feel like opening up to some stranger who knew nothing about me.
“Dad, can I ask you a question?” My voice trembled with nervousness.
“Yes?”
“You think it would be okay for me to try out for the school play? I realize that I’m springing this on you at the last minute, but I think it’s something I’d really like to try.” I pulled the phone away from my ear in anticipation of a loud and negative response.
“School play?” I could hear the additional questions floating beneath his inquiry.
“Yes. I think I’d like to try out for a role. I’ve never been a part of one or done anything like it before and I want to try out. I realize I’m grounded and need to get evaluated and all, but tryouts are only for one day. So I’m asking for permission to stay after school on the day of tryouts to see if I have what it takes to be a part of the drama club.” There was dead silence. After what seemed like an eternity Jordan finally spoke.
“Let me think about it, Keysha.” Jordan was reluctant to give an answer. However, I took his response as a positive sign.
When Barbara and I arrived at the office of Dr. Pat Ursa I was nervous and uncomfortable. My palms were sweaty, my heart was racing and I felt nauseous. As we sat in the waiting room, I glanced around at other patients, searching for any behavior that would indicate someone was criminally insane. I thought for sure I’d see some murderer or some nutcase who liked talking to imaginary people inside of walls or something. But I didn’t see anyone who fell into that category. There was a middle-aged woman, who on the surface appeared completely normal. She picked up a copy of Family Circle Magazine and began thumbing through it. There was another guy dressed in a very nice suit fumbling around with his BlackBerry.
“This is nothing like I imagined it would be,” I whispered to Barbara, who’d just sat down next to me after filling out some paperwork with the receptionist.
“What did you think it would be like?” Barbara asked as she stuffed her wallet back down into her purse.
“Full of crazy people wearing straitjackets, sitting in white padded rooms banging their heads against the wall.”
“We’re not in a mental institution, Keysha.” Barbara took my hand into her own and began rubbing it. Her touch was soothing.
“I’m sorry about all of this.” I spoke from my heart. “I mean—I don’t know what I mean. I just don’t want to say the wrong thing and end up on some operating table getting my head shaved in preparation for brain surgery.”
“Keysha, you’re letting your imagination get the best of you,” Barbara said as her cell phone began to vibrate. She answered it and I could tell it was Jordan. After she informed him of our location she handed the phone to me.
“Hello,” I said.
“Just relax, Keysha. It will be okay. It’s not uncommon for people to see a psychiatrist.”
“Have you ever seen one?” I boldly asked.
“Yes.” Jordan’s answer surprised me.
“What for?” I inquired.
“Grief counseling. After my dad passed away I had some trouble adjusting to the loss. Dr. Ursa helped me through that difficult time.”
“Oh. I see,” I responded, not certain of what to say next.
“We’ll talk more when you get home,” he said before asking me to let him speak to Barbara once again.
I went in to see Dr. Ursa, who was a man with steely gray-and-black hair. He had deep-set and warm eyes, slightly bushy eyebrows and an oversize forehead. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties and in great shape for his age. He asked me to have a seat in a chair situated in front of his desk. I sat down and began to scan the room, feeling a little weird and slightly paranoid.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked, seemingly concerned about my well-being.
“I’m cool,” I answered as I looked at his degrees displayed on the wall.
“How do you feel today?” he asked.
“Crazy—I mean not crazy in the traditional sense of crazy. I mean…never mind.”
“It’s okay to feel a little strange or out of place. A lot of my patients feel the way you do when they first come to my office. However, in due time you’ll probably look forward to your visits.”
“Oh. I won’t be coming back, that’s for sure. You need to ask me some questions, right?” I wanted to get right to the heart of the matter so that I could move on with my life.
“No. I don’t want to ask you anything. I’d prefer to talk about whatever is on your mind.” I didn’t expect Dr. Ursa to say that. I also didn’t expect for him to be so calm and easygoing.
“Well. How long have you been a doctor?” I was curious.
“Well over twenty years,” he answered.
“Why did you want to become a psychiatrist?”
“I didn’t want to be a doctor at first. I wanted to be a jazz singer, but I just didn’t have the voice for it.”
“I cannot imagine you singing jazz.” I chuckled. “Now my Grandmother Katie, she could’ve been a jazz singer. She has a beautiful voice.”
“It sounds like you’re close to Grandmother Katie,” Dr. Ursa ventured.
“I like her a lot. But we really haven’t known each other for very long.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. She and I got off to a great start when we met. Have you ever met someone and the two of you instantly hit it off?” I asked.
“Yes,” he answered.
“Well, that’s how it was with Grandmother Katie and me. Felt like I’d known her for years and I’ve been acquainted with her for less than a year.”
“It sounds as if she’s a very special woman.” Dr. Ursa got that one correct. He and I continued to make small talk about school, my friends and my mother, whom I really didn’t want to talk about on any level.
“Do you not like your mother?” Dr. Ursa struck a sensitive nerve with that question.
“I don’t want to talk about her at all. So just drop it, okay?” I scowled. I suppose the expression that formed on my face was a rather nasty one, which Dr. Ursa took note of. My mother was a very selfish woman and cared only about herself. When I lived with her, she put us in a lot of dangerous situations. My mother’s biggest problem was she loved the criminal lifestyle. She was allergic to holding down a good ol’ nine-to-five job and the consequences of a jail sentence didn’t deter her.
“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about her.” He finally agreed to drop the topic of my mother. Discussing my mother was the only taboo subject that caused an immediate emotional knee-jerk reaction during the course of our meeting. Once we got past that wrinkle in the road, I put forth a yeoman’s effort to demonstrate how normal I was. After all, I wasn’t suffering from peculiar obsessive behavior like walking around in circles for no reason, or standing in a corner licking wallpaper. Nor did I walk around having detailed conversations with invisible friends who accompanied me.
Dr. Ursa talked with Barbara and Jordan via telephone afterward. Dr. Ursa informed them that he wanted to schedule more sessions with me. The agitation of having to sit through therapy when there was absolutely nothing ailing me was beyond comprehension. Dr. Ursa believed I had some unresolved anxiety and abandonment issues with my mother, which caused periodic erratic emotional behavior. That was a bunch of bull because I really didn’t care about my mother or anything she did. I totally didn’t even think about her and under no circumstances did I ever want to see her again. I mean, what was wrong with that? For example, if some burglar breaks into your home and kills your family, would you want to have dinner and a conversation with the guy? Probably not! My mother was the type of woman who could cause chaos at a one-man parade. She’d find some way to trip the guy just for the hell of it. She was just not the type of person I wanted to be around. Personally, I believed Dr. Ursa was looking forward to generating an enormous bill to submit to Jordan’s insurance company, but of course I couldn’t prove my theory. By the time my parents and Dr. Ursa had reached an agreement, I had no choice but to attend future sessions—something I wasn’t looking forward to.
Jordan and Barbara agreed to allow me to try out for the school play, which was called Teenage Love Affair. Just as Maya had promised, she coached me for the audition. On the day of tryouts I was very nervous, but Maya encouraged me and insisted that I just relax and let everything come naturally. When it was my turn to read, I walked into the school auditorium and onto the stage. I stood in front of the play directors and stated my name. I exhaled a few times then acted out the lines I’d memorized. When I was finished I exited the stage and met up with Maya in the hallway outside the school auditorium.
“You did good,” Maya said, smiling at me.
“No. I don’t think so, Maya. I was so nervous. I was shaking like a wet cat stuck in the middle of a blizzard,” I admitted.
“You did just fine. Your voice is so unique and strong. I’m positive you’ll get picked for one of the parts.”
“Ha, that’s a laugh. There is no way a rookie like her is going to make the cut,” said this girl who was eavesdropping on our conversation. She was about my height and had long hair that cascaded down to her shoulders. She was a little on the thick side and had on too much lip gloss because her lips looked as if she’d just finished eating a bucket of chicken. She combed her fingers through her hair as if to say, “I have long hair and you don’t.”
“Priscilla, no one was talking to you, so why don’t you just see your way out of our conversation.” Maya quickly put her in check.
“Hey, I’m just telling the girl the truth instead of filling her head with false hope. Girlfriend, you can’t act,” Priscilla said directly to me. I couldn’t believe this chick just appeared out of nowhere and offered up a nasty attitude instead of friendship and encouragement. I sized up Priscilla. She was a big-boned girl, rather tall with fish eyes and a gap between her upper front teeth. Enormous boobs, and full baby-mama hips.
“Keysha, don’t pay her any attention. Priscilla Grisby is just afraid of competition. You and her both tried out for the same part.”
“And I know for a fact that I’m going to get the part,” Priscilla said, boldly proclaiming her victory.
“The only reason you want the part is so you can be all up in Antonio’s face. He doesn’t want you, Priscilla.” Maya was clearly becoming irritated.
“All the boys want me. Including your boyfriend, Misalo. I could have him just like that!” Priscilla popped her fingers. “If I wanted him.”
“Oh, hell no. Keysha, hold my coat.” Maya was getting ready to fight. She removed her earrings, unlatched her necklace and spit out her the gum she was chewing. I pulled her away before any hair was pulled or any skin was clawed.
“Come on, girl. Let’s go before this gets out of hand,” I said as I moved her away from the explosive situation.
“Ooh, I can’t stand that girl!” Maya railed. “She just makes my skin crawl.”
“She’s probably right, though. I didn’t think I was all that good, Maya.”
“Keysha, you were much better than her. She uses her looks to get her way. She’s just a spoiled brat who’s used to getting her way. She sucks as an actress! You’ve got more natural talent in your big toenail than she’ll ever have.”
I laughed.
“I’m serious, Keysha.” Maya began laughing with me.
“Come on, girl. I’ve got to get to my locker so I can get my stuff. I’ve got a ton of homework that needs to get done.”