Tyrell (18 page)

“What's wrong?” I ask my moms the second I get back to the room and see the look on her face. She sitting on the end of the bed looking mad as hell, like she heated ‘bout something. And her face is tight. She, like, the opposite of how she was yesterday.

“I went to see your father today and he talking crazy, saying when he get out, he only gonna play at weddings and birthday parties and shit.”

I can't stand when she curse in front of Troy, who sitting on the other bed playing with his new Game Boy. He in his own little video game world and probably ain't even heard what she said, but still. That ain't the point. I sit down next to him. “You finish your homework, man?”

“Yeah.” He don't look at me once. He just keep on playing his game.

And my moms just keep on talking. “Ty, he crazy if he think he gonna come out that prison and start playing at weddings, working his ass off for no money. What he need to do that for?”

“You the crazy one,” I tell her. “He trying to stay outta jail and be with us. That ain't crazy. That's smart. What, you like when he locked up? You like being here at Bennett?”

“He just gotta be more careful next time. I'm always telling him that, but he don't never listen, your father. But if he start playing weddings, we never gonna afford to live nowhere nice again. We gonna be back in the projects, and I ain't having that.”

I stare at her for a long time, and she actually look like she believe what she saying. She dead serious. She really want her man to risk his freedom just so she won't hafta go back to the projects. Like things was so bad when we was there. “You know, I don't get you,” I say after a while. “You always talking ‘bout how much you love the man, but you don't never do nothing to support him. You just keep wanting stuff even when he don't got nothing to give you. You s'posed to want him to do the right thing.”

“No. He
s'posed
to take care of us.”

Damn. It's like that?

I don't even know what to say or do no more. I mean, the man trying to do what he shoulda did a long time ago, but she don't understand that. Now I know why he always taking chances and winding up behind bars. Like what Yolanda was saying, men do some stupid shit for women. And she wasn't lying. But do my pops gotta keep getting locked up just to keep my moms happy?

I take a deep breath and try again. “You make it sound like that's all a man is for. Supporting you. Taking care of you.”

“I need your father,” she say, and she look kinda lost too. “I can't do it by myself no more. I need him.”

We just sit there quiet for a few minutes. The only sound is
Troy playing his video game. Then, just ‘cause I feel bad, I tell her not to worry ‘bout nothing, that we gonna be alright. I hand her the bag Emiliano gave me and, just like I thought, she see them donuts and smile.

Since I'm just sitting there, I open Troy notebook and check over his homework. Then, later, after I get him to turn off the game and write some of them vocabulary words neater, I get my basketball out the garbage bag, and me and him go outside to shoot some hoops in the cold.

Being at Bennett is messed up for me, but if I was a little kid, I woulda probably lost my mind by now. Kids his age need to run ‘round and burn off all they energy. They don't need to be locked up in a little room from the time they get home from school ‘til the next morning. It ain't right.

Only thing is, there ain't no basketball hoop on the block where Bennett is at, so me and Troy walk down the block to Hunts Point Avenue, to where there always be kids outside playing. Not that I wanna get in no real game, not with Troy with me. I just wanna show him some moves, let him know that even though our pops ain't there, he still got somebody to teach him how to play.

When my pops was out, me and him used to play ball all the time, and that's the only time we got to really talk. I mean, yeah, most of it was trash talk, but least we was doing something together. My pops used to be like, “You keep playing like that and I'm gonna buy you a dress.”

And I would tell him, “Talk to me tonight when you got your knee wrapped and you whining like a bitch.”

That would make him laugh, but then he would bump into me to take a shot. Like he ain't know he was fouling me. And
every time he made a basket, he was like, “You gonna let a forty-year-old man kick your ass?”

“You ain't beating nobody,” I would tell him, ‘cause, truth is, we both knew I coulda beat him from jump. I just ain't wanna embarrass the man.

When me and him wasn't talking trash, we used to talk ‘bout all kinds of shit, everything from music to females. And we used to make plans too. Like, he was gonna show me how to drive, so I would be ready to get my permit the minute I turned sixteen. Matter of fact, every time he rented a van to take the equipment to one of his parties, he would let me drive ‘round the parking lot and on the side streets for a while, just for practice. Course here I am now, ‘bout to turn sixteen, and where he at?

But that ain't the point. The point is, me and him had fun and we got to hang and shit. And I don't want Troy to grow up and miss all that ‘cause, to be honest, he need a man to teach him what a man do. My moms can't do that.

Now me, I know I can't take my pops place or nothing, but Troy need somebody for now. So that's what I'ma try to do. Be there.

In bed with Jasmine that night, me and her do a whole lot of kissing in the dark, but she still don't give me none. The girl got me so worked up though, I gotta get up outta bed and go to the bathroom to take care of my situation. On the other side of the door, I hear her saying, “
Mira, asqueroso,
I hope you not doing what I think you doing.”

I'm too busy to say anything to her, and I don't know what she talking ‘bout anyhow. She probably just trying to make me feel bad ‘bout something every guy do.

When I'm back in bed with her, she whisper to me, “You a bad boy.”

“Just come kiss me,” I say, and she do. Me and her is under the covers and our legs is wrapped ‘round each others the way we always got them. And I'm feeling good, ‘specially now that some of the pressure ain't there no more.

After a while we stop kissing and she talk ‘bout her old schools and how she felt going back there today. “I'm a different girl now,” she say. “And seeing all those boys again,
ay, dios mio
! It was so embarrassing.”

“Just ‘cause you used to be a ho, don't mean you gotta be ‘shamed ‘bout it. Everybody make mistakes.”

“I know,” she say. “What's your biggest mistake?”

“Damn. I got so many.” But I ain't gotta think too hard ‘cause my pops been on my mind from when me and Troy played basketball. “My mistake is pro'ly looking up to my pops so much,” I tell her. “ ‘Cause, yeah, he cool and everything, but he be messing up so much that sometimes I wish I ain't even care ‘bout the man, you know. I mean, he knew he was gonna get hisself locked up again, but he ain't did nothin' to make sure we was gonna be a'ight while he gone. And now, ‘cause of him, I gotta be the man. I gotta make the money to take care of my moms and brother. I gotta put my freedom on the line.” I'm getting mad just talkin' ‘bout this. “And what's s'posed to happen when he get out in August? I'm s'posed to go back to being a kid again? ‘Cause I don't think I could go back, you know what I mean?”

Jasmine stroke the side of my face. “Don't worry about that now. You just getting yourself stressed.”

Her hands feel mad good, warm. “Yeah,” I tell her. “You right.”

I close my eyes and try to stop thinking ‘bout all that. All I gotta think ‘bout now is the party. ‘Cause in 48 hours, the party is gonna be on. And I gotta be ready.

After I leave Jasmine in the morning, I go wake my moms up and tell her she gotta take Troy to school. I'ma need to make as much cash as I can today and make sure everything is in place for the party tomorrow. Besides, my moms got a meeting with the caseworker from the EAU today at 10:00, so she gotta get up anyway.

But that don't stop her from arguing with me though, ‘cause she ain't used to getting up so early. But after ‘bout twenty minutes, she do drag her ass outta bed and into the bathroom.

“Why you can't take me to school?” Troy ask me.

“'Cause I gotta work.” I reach in the plastic container and give him a handful of them orange peanut butter cheese crackers. “Here. Eat.” I sit on the bed and eat some of them with him ‘cause I know I ain't getting no kinda breakfast today.

“We ever gonna get out of here?” he ask, opening the crackers and licking the peanut butter off.

“Yeah, on Monday.”

“Then we going back home?”

“Nah. They gonna put us in a real shelter.”

“Oh.” Troy keep on eating. I can tell he got more questions, but he don't ask none of them, like he probably don't wanna hear the answers. So I tell him we gonna be alright no matter where they send us ‘cause we all gonna be together, and that seem to make him feel a little better.

My moms come out the bathroom all dressed and ready to go, but she still complaining ‘cause she don't wanna go see that caseworker. “All I need is a shelter so my kids don't gotta be at Bennett. What she gotta talk to me for?”

“She pro'ly wanna talk ‘bout the fraud case, what else?”

“That don't make no sense. Your father was paying back that money. The only reason we ain't paying no more is ‘cause they locked the man up.”

“Then all you gotta do is show that caseworker that you trying to do the right thing now,” I tell her.

She nod her head. “I am doing the right thing. I'm holding it down while my husband is away, right? It ain't easy, but I'm doing it.” She grab some of them crackers out the container. “C'mon, Troy. We gonna be late.”

They walk out the door, and I can see Troy take off down the hall at top speed. I laugh. It look like he used to them boots already. My moms is gonna have a hard time keeping up with him today.

After I'm dressed, I book over to the subway station and hustle them working people for they dollar bills. Then I get to my old school by 7:45 and start promoting. I know just ‘bout everybody, but I don't want all of them at my party, so I ain't telling everyone.
Just all the girls and the dudes I ain't never had beef with. But standing out there trying to get people to come to my party ain't easy. Not like when Jasmine was with me.

I only stay there ‘bout a half hour ‘cause school start and most of the kids go inside the building. Not all of them though. A lot of kids just come to school to sit on cars and hang out all day, no matter how cold it is out there. I mean, I ain't never wanted to go to school neither, but why get up out your bed just to freeze your ass off?

Still, I don't gotta understand them to promote to them. Only one thing I want from them. For all I care, they could pay they money and go sit inside a school bus all night if that's what they into.

“Ty, where you been at?” this guy Keshawn ask me. He leaning up against a SUV with one arm ‘round his girlfriend.

“Working.”

“I hear that.”

I tell him ‘bout the party and how much I'm charging.

“Fifteen dollars?” he ask. “You asking a lot.”

“If you don't got that kinda money—”

“I got the money, man. I'm just saying.”

“A'ight, then,” I tell him. “I'ma see you there.” I walk away ‘cause I ain't in the mood to deal with some of the people from this school. There's just something ‘bout them. Ain't no way I could come back to this school.

I put in a couple more hours at the subway station before heading uptown to Bronxwood. I ain't talk to Cal for a couple days now, and I still gotta work out the last-minute details with him and his brothers. When I get to the apartment, the only one
there is Greg who ain't doing nothing, as usual. “Where Cal at?” I ask him.

“He with Andre. They coming back in a minute. You wanna get high?”

“Nah, I'm good.” I can't be getting high when I got work to do. And shit, man, it's, like, 10:30 in the morning. I mean, if you getting high in the morning, you might got a problem or something.

I sit on the couch and watch Greg play his PlayStation game. “What y'all been up to?” I ask him.

“We makin' money,” he say. “You ready to come work with us, man? ‘Cause we really need a couple guys to work our new spots.”

“Nah, man.”

“Y'all still in that shelter?”

“We ain't even got to the shelter yet. We just in a motel ‘til some space open up for us at a shelter.”

“That's fucked up.”

“Yeah, but if I make some decent cash on Saturday I'ma try to get us a apartment. ‘Cause them shelters ain't hardly no better than Bennett.”

Greg make some noise that tell me he ain't hardly paying attention to what I'm saying no more. He lost in the game, getting the man on the screen to kill as many people as he can. The TV is turned up so loud, I feel like I'm in the middle of that gun battle.

So I go in the kitchen, sit at the table, and call Regg on my cell. He still in Atlanta, but he tell me he gonna get to the depot no later than 8:00. I give him the directions. “What you decide to do about the beer?” he ask.

“I ain't really decide nothing yet,” I tell him. Truth is, I don't got enough money to lay out for no beer. And I don't wanna give up my last dollar when I don't know what kinda shit could come up last minute.

“You know, I ain't trying to take no money out your pocket, Ty, but if you definitely ain't gonna do it, I'm gonna do it.”

“A'ight.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, man,” I say. I know Regg was trying to help me out by not charging me his twenty-five percent, but things is better now that he bringing the beer. Least this way he could get something outta this party, too. It's all good.

Cal and Andre come back after a while, carrying greasy brown paper bags. They sit down at the kitchen table and pull out three aluminum platters of eggs, bacon, grits, and home fries from the place ‘round the corner. “You want some of this?” Cal ask me.

“Hell, yeah.”

Cal get up from the table to go get a plate for me. He good that way.

All four of us eat breakfast and I go over the details of the party with them.

“We been telling everybody about it,” Andre tell me.

Greg nod. “Yeah. Everybody.”

“You gonna have half of Bronxwood up in there,” Andre say. “You better know what you doing.”

“You gonna be there?” I ask him.

“No, only Cal gonna be there.”

“And I'm gonna be working here, taking Cal place downstairs,” Greg say.

To be honest, that got me surprised ‘cause I don't never see Greg outside working. Every time I see him, he inside either sitting on his ass, eating, or getting high. I still don't know what the fuck he do.

After we finish eating, I chill with them for a while at the kitchen table. Cal lean forward in his seat and ask me if I followed his advice ‘bout Novisha.

“Yeah,” I say, but don't get into no details with him. It ain't none of his business no how. But still, I can't help smiling when I think ‘bout how far I got with Novisha. Man, I ain't never gonna forget seeing her all hot and worked up like that.

Cal start laughing. “See, I told you, man. All females is the same. They want they man to—”

I crumple up a napkin and hit him upside the head with it before he could finish saying whatever he was gonna say. Nigga talking garbage anyway. “Stop talking ‘bout my girl,” I tell him. “She ain't like all them other females ‘round here. She different.”

That get Cal and them going, calling me names and telling me I'm getting soft and shit, but that's alright. I can take it. I know who I am.

From Cal apartment, I go upstairs to Patrick, to get some more practice on the CD deck. I gotta get real good at it before tomorrow. And it got so many buttons and shit, it's gonna take a while to learn what they all do.

But, I gotta say, that thing got some real hot features. You put two CDs in there and, after you get the feel for the controls, it's like you working two turntables. You can fade, mix, sample, and even scratch, which is wild, you ask me. And it sound nice too. I mean, I know my pops wouldn't be all that into this new technology and shit, but for me, it's alright.

I stay with Patrick ‘til my fingers know them buttons without even thinking ‘bout it. ‘Til my hands can make the sounds I wanna make without even looking. ‘Til shit sound smooth, like I been doing this my whole life.

And that's all I gotta do, play the music. Keep people dancing and having fun. And keep Cal making money, so him and his brothers will get something outta this too.

Personally, I don't know how my pops do it, keep everybody at his parties happy all the time, but he do. I know that ‘cause them same people be paying they money to come to all his parties, and them same people be working for him too. So he must be doing something right.

And ‘cause I don't know what the fuck that is, I'ma hafta figure it out for myself.