38

BRAIDS

Because his dad, Harris, was home when we got to Ahmed’s house, we had to go in and visit, and after a while Ahmed and I went outside in his backyard. From across the fence a face popped up. Jo’Nelle again. Her eyes landed on me and she said, “Hey.”

“What you want, nosy?” Ahmed asked her.

“Ain’t nobody talkin’ to you, Ahmed. I was talkin’ to your so-called cuzzin.”

“Hey,” she repeated.

“Hi,” I replied.

“Where you from?”

“She’s from nunya bizness,” Ahmed snapped back.

“I’m from Moon Lake, Washington.”

“I’m Jo’Nelle. What’s your name?”

“Violet.”

Jo’Nelle smirked and muttered, “Huh?”

“Don’t play deaf, nosy. You heard her. Her name is Violet. V-I-O-L-E-T,” Ahmed spelled out.

“How come your mama gave you a white girl name?”

Ahmed answered for me. “Cuz her mama’s white. That’s how come.”

“For real? So all that hair ain’t no weave?”

“Nope, it’s not a weave,” I said.

“Can I braid it? Pleeeeeeze. I’m gonna be a hairstylist. It’ll look good. I promise.”

The last time someone had messed with my hair, it had turned out all wrong.

“I dunno how long we’ll be here,” I replied.

“That you don’t need to worry about,” Ahmed said. “Once Auntie Roxanne and my daddy start talking, there ain’t no stopping them. Plus I heard them say y’all are staying for dinner.”

Before I knew it, Jo’Nelle had tossed a bag over the fence and leaped into Ahmed’s yard. She sat down behind me and sprayed something into my hair.

“What is that?”

“Stuff for braids. You want cornrows? I could do cornrows real good.”

I shrugged. “Okay.”

“You’ll be sorry,” Ahmed warned, and headed inside.

Jo’Nelle must have had some kind of magic in her fingers, because in no time flat it seemed like she was finished. Together we went inside so I could see. My hair was braided into thick cornrows with a side part. And I had to admit, I really liked it. “It looks pretty. Do I have to pay you? Because I didn’t bring any money.”

“This time it’s free, but next time you gotta pay me fifteen dollars.”

Because I figured there would never be a next time, I agreed.

Jo’Nelle dragged me by the hand and we burst into the living room, where Harris and Bibi were still yakking.

Bibi’s eyes opened wide. “Your hair . . . I love it.”

“Sweeeeet,” Harris said.

Jo’Nelle beamed. “Told ya. I’m the best. And I could hook you up with some big gold hoop earrings I got a whole mess of.”

I fingered the emerald earrings I was wearing.

“No, but thank you,” Bibi told her.

From next door a woman yelled, “Jo’Nelle! Get home now! This food’s abouta burn up on the stove.”

“One other thing. You got that soft hair, so them braids ain’t gonna stay that long. If you put rubber bands on the ends, they might keep a little longer.”

“Jo’Nelle!” the voice from next door screamed again.

Jo’Nelle flew out the door.

I went into the bathroom, stared into the mirror again, and ran my hands over my braids. I felt like some kind of spice that’s only found in faraway places. Exotic, yep, that’s the word.

Ahmed peeked in, gawked, said, “Cool,” and invited me into his room to play video games.

“So what’s your sister like?” he asked as we sat side by side at the computer.

“Daisy? She’s mostly nice,” I told him.

“She’s white, huh? That’s what my pops said.”

“Yep, she is.”

“I think that’d be weird,” he said, “having a white sister. Is it?”

Because he’d been mostly annoying, I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him the truth. But he was staring at me with that I’m-waiting-for-a-reply look, and the last thing I wanted was for him to start to badger me the way Yaz does. I hate being badgered.

There was only one honest answer to the question. “Sometimes,” I said.

“I figured,” he replied. “Because I was thinking about how I would feel and all I could come up with was strraaange.”

“Only because some people are stupid and they act funny. That’s the part I don’t like. But she is nice and kind of cool,” I told him. “Mostly I try to think about that.”

For once Ahmed was quiet, as if he didn’t know what to say.

After too much silence, I told him, “Thanks for not letting me fall into the ocean today.”

“Like I told you before . . . ain’t nuthin’.”