Keysha's Drama (11 page)

S
o where are you from?” asked Liz. We were now on the way to lunch together. There was nothing feminine about Liz. She walked like a man and talked like a man and had a very strong presence about her. Regardless of the nasty comments a few students made about her, Liz couldn't have cared less, and I suppose I was drawn to her because of her strength. She was strong in ways that I didn't think I was.

“Chicago,” I said.

“Really? What side of the city?”

“South side,” I answered her.

“Cool. I used to live on the north side a few years back. Up in the Ravenswood area. I still have a lot of friends in that part of town. They're much cooler than these stuck-up rich kids out here.” We turned left down another corridor and I could see the cafeteria ahead of us. “So how did you end up at this school?”

“It's a long story,” I said.

“Hey, I've got nothing but time,” Liz said as she held the cafeteria door open for me. The place was noisy and packed with kids.

“Come on, the line is over here.” I followed Liz and stood in line.

“The pizza sucks. Never eat it because I think they spit on it. The fries and burgers are good but never, under any circumstances, eat the fish sticks. If you do, you'll spend the afternoon with a bad case of the runs.”

“Eeew,” I said.

“Exactly,” Liz responded. “The people in this school are so lame. The cheerleaders are way too damn catty. The jocks, or the jockstraps as I call them, are completely into their bodies. They're all brawn and no brains, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, my brother is like that,” I said, thinking about the incident I had with Mike yesterday.

“You have a brother who goes here?” Liz asked.

“Yeah, his name is Mike Kendall.”

“You're kidding me?” Liz asked completely surprised.

“No. Why did you respond like that?”

“The kid is only a freshman, and he is one of the most popular kids on campus. He came into the school and broke the sprint record for the fifty-yard dash. The old record was 5.5 seconds and he ran it in 5.3 seconds. The football and track coaches were on him like flies on shit. I heard that he's the only freshman on the varsity football squad.”

“I don't know much about all of that,” I admitted.

“Well, just FYI for you. He thinks everyone likes him, but it's only because of his speed and the fact that your dad works for the hottest radio station in town. People have been blowing his head up because they're hoping to get some free concert tickets or something.”

“Does he know kids are just using him?” I asked.

“I don't know. Maybe he does and maybe he doesn't. Either way, the guy is popular. It's practically unheard of to be a freshman and playing football on the varsity squad.”

Once we got our food, I followed Liz around the cafeteria to a table filled with other students who were dressed like Liz. Everyone had piercings, spiked and multicolored hair, and damn near all of them wore black.

“Yo, listen up.” Liz got everyone's attention.

“This is Keysha, she's new and is going to be hanging out with us.” I said hello to everyone and they just nodded.

“So what's your story?” Liz asked as she dipped a few of her French fries in a small cup of ketchup.

“My story is real jacked-up.”

“Hell, honey, I've already figured that one out. Give me details.” Liz leaned forward so that she could hear me clearly.

“My grandmother was arrested for bank robbery and is serving time in prison. My mother is also serving time. When she got arrested, I had to live in a group home for a while.”

“Oh, man, you too? I knew that I liked you the moment I saw you. Which whacked out facility were you at?”

“I was at a place on the south side. You were in a group home too?” I asked.

“Hell, worse. I was at Sunnyville.”

“Sunnyville?” I asked, confused.

“You know, the nuthouse. They wanted to evaluate my mind for a while,” she said, bugging her eyes wide open as if her mind was some great mysterious phenomenon. I was intrigued by her story and wanted to know more.

“My dad was my world. I was his princess.” I read Liz's expression and I could tell that what she was about to tell me was deeply personal. “He and my mom got divorced a few years back. I can't stand my mom because she's such a bitch, so I asked to go live with my dad. He was the coolest dad a girl could have. He was a soldier in the army. When the whole Iraq War thing broke out he was called to duty. To make a long story short, his unit was escorting a supply truck and they were ambushed. He was killed.”

“I'm so sorry to hear that,” I said, feeling really bad. I knew that it had to have been hard to know her father all of her life and then lose him.

“Anyway, when I got the news I didn't take it very well,” she said, and then she just stopped talking. I waited for her to continue but she didn't. It was as if she'd locked up her feelings about it or something.

“So that's why you wear all black, because you're in mourning, right?” I asked. She suddenly slapped the palms of her hands down on the table, making a loud sound that startled me.

“See.” She pointed her finger at me. “Why is it that you can see that but my all-knowing mother thought I'd flipped out and shipped me off to the damn nuthouse where a weirdo tried to fry my damn brain?” Liz was very passionate as well as angry.

“So, you're back at home with your mother?” I asked.

“Yeah, and her new boyfriend, who has moved in with us. I don't like him at all. He keeps telling my mother that I'm headed for trouble and blah, blah, blah.” I didn't ask Liz any more questions because she appeared to be on the edge and I didn't want to push her.
Hell, and I thought I had it bad
, I thought to myself.

I met Liz after school, and since her house was in the same direction as mine, we walked home together. I wanted to know more about her dad so I asked another question.

“So, what was your dad like?”

“He was cool. If I said, ‘Hey, dad, can I get fifty bucks to go shopping with,' he'd give me sixty and say get something to eat, as well.” Liz continued, “He was always around whenever I needed him. If my bike was on a flat, he'd fix it for me. When I wanted to learn how to swim, he'd spend his Saturday mornings teaching me how. When I was selling Girl Scout cookies, he made sure that my order sheet was always filled. I loved him. I could always depend on him for anything. He was the type of dad who always bought me something when we went shopping. Even if it was the dumbest toy ever made. He'd buy it for me because I wanted it.”

“What do you miss the most about him?” I asked.

“His smile, his laugh and his scent.” Liz paused in thought. “I suppose the thing I miss the most is him coming into my room at night and tucking me in. I know it sounds corny, but I'd lie in the bed and he'd wrap me up like a mummy and then hug me. That was the best feeling in the world.” I saw Liz wipe a tear away from her eyes. I felt her pain so I hugged her.

“Ew, you're hugging Lesbo Liz,” said a group of guys who were walking past us. I didn't care what the other kids thought. I just felt she could use a hug, and she accepted it.

“I hate this damn war,” Liz said as she backed away from me. “I'm sorry for dumping on you like this.”

“It's okay,” I said. “I can understand how you must feel.” We walked a little farther and finally reached my house.

“Nice house,” Liz said. “It's big.”

“Maybe you could come over sometime. We could sit around and listen to music or something.”

Liz laughed. “Or we could get online and hang out in a chat room and see what kind of perverts are out there.”

“I'm not too sure about that one,” I said, laughing.

“Well, don't knock it until you try it. It's kind of fun and exciting to talk with someone who is in another part of the country or the world.”

“Well, I'd better go. I'll see you tomorrow,” I said. Liz said goodbye and continued on her way. I walked down my driveway toward the house feeling good that I'd met a nice person, even though she was kind of odd.

O
nce I got closer to the house, I saw my father in the greenhouse planting flowers in a clay pot. He saw me and waved and I waved back. Since he was alone, I thought it would be a good time to go and talk to him. I walked across the grass and entered the greenhouse through the side door. There was a small black radio with paint spots on it on top of a small furnace that was built into the glass of the greenhouse. A song called “Quiet Storm” by Smokey Robinson was playing on the radio. I remembered the song because Grandmother Rubylee played it often.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey, how was your first day at school?” he asked as he looked over his shoulder at me.

“It was okay. It went better than I thought it would. So why aren't you at work?” I asked.

“I wanted to be here when you got home so I took off early today. I want to make sure things go well and that you get settled in and used to being here. Do you like the school?” he asked as he turned the radio down a little.

“It's okay. It's just a school,” I said as I took a seat on a small chair that was near me.

“So what are you planting?” I asked.

“Mums, for the fall season,” he said. “Do you want to help me place them in these pots?”

“No,” I answered. The last thing I wanted to do was play in the dirt.

“Are you sure? It's very relaxing.”

I chuckled because being relaxed about anything was foreign to me. Everything in my life thus far was drama and tension.

“You know, I would imagine you have a lot questions.” He stopped playing in the dirt and looked directly at me. “I'll answer any questions you have, Keysha. No matter how trivial or adult they are. You have a right to know, and I'm here for you,” he said. I wasn't used to someone speaking to me with a calm and soothing voice. I was accustomed to shouting and yelling to get my point across. He smiled at me, and I felt funny because his smile reminded me so much of my own and it was weird to see it on someone else's face. I was quiet for a long moment as I tried to organize all of the questions in my head.

“Let me start. I want to tell you that as a man, and your father, I'm always in your corner. I'm always on your side, and I have your best interests in mind. I want you to know that about me,” he said. I swallowed hard as I thought about the first question I wanted to ask.

“Go ahead,” he said. “No question is too tough.”

“How did you meet my mother?” I wanted to know. Jordan pulled up another chair and sat down directly in front of me so that we could look at each other.

“I know you may find this hard to believe, but I was the nerd in the family,” he said, and I started laughing because he was a nerd to me through and through.

“I was the straight-A student who actually loved school. Unlike some of our family members, I grew up in the suburbs as opposed to the inner city. At family gatherings my other cousins, who were much worldlier than I was at the time, made fun of me. They criticized my intelligence, called me a sellout and teased me about my lack of street sense. My cousin Simon was the ring-leader, but for some reason I envied him, because no matter how crazy and cocky he was, he seemed to always be able to get the prettiest girls. By the time I was twenty-one years old, I was a college student with a healthy appetite for a good party. I'd been square all of my life and going away to college helped me out of my shell. I'd only gone to a few parties, because at my core I was an overachiever who couldn't stand getting anything less than a superior grade. Anyway, during spring break that year, your grandfather gave me five hundred dollars for being a straight-A student. Your grandparents loved to brag about that sort of thing, and Simon heard about the bonus money and convinced me to come and hang out with him. He said that he knew of some great parties where there would be plenty of girls. He assured me that I'd have a great time. Simon was true to his word. He took me to a jumping party. In true Simon fashion, he was able to hook up with some of the prettiest girls there. And in my true fashion, I struck out with every girl I spoke to. Eventually, Simon came up to me and said, ‘There is a girl over there who wants to get to know you better.' He pointed her out to me and I thought, Wow, she's a nice-looking girl. ‘Don't blow it this time by acting all nerdy,' he said. I walked over to the girl and introduced myself. I was so nervous that when I went to shake her hand I inadvertently knocked her drink out of her hand. I was a complete klutz. After I cleaned up the spill, she told me her name was Justine. I asked her how old she was and she told me that she was eighteen. A few more drinks, a little conversation and several dances later, we were really enjoying each other. One thing led to another, and we had a fling that same evening.”

“So, I'm just a lust baby,” I said, feeling really bad about myself. I suppose that in some weird way I was hoping that there was at least some type of relationship between him and my mother.

“Keysha, you have to understand that my mind-set at that time was much different than it is now and don't call yourself that. You're a beautiful young lady.”

I wanted to say, “yeah, whatever,” but I didn't. I just listened.

“The next day I woke up in Simon's spare bedroom with a massive hangover. As I got dressed, I searched my pocket and I noticed that all of my money was gone. I thought perhaps Simon was holding it for me, but as we talked about what happened the prior evening he began laughing at me. He told me, ‘Fool, you never take that type of money to a house party in the hood. You let that young girl get you for five hundred big ones.' He blamed me for the loss of my cash. I got angry and demanded that he call Justine so that I could get my money but he refused to do it, stating he couldn't be responsible for getting me cut or beat up. I was so disgusted by everything that I left Simon's apartment and came back home. A few months later at a family holiday gathering I ran into Simon. Myself and a few other male cousins were hanging out in the garage shooting the breeze. Simon let it slip that he and Justine had actually set me up and split the money that your grandfather had given to me. To humiliate me even more, he announced that Justine wasn't eighteen years old, she was much younger than what she led me to believe. It was then that I realized that not only was Simon petty, but he was actually jealous and envious of me. Simon and I fell out after that. I never trusted him again or went to any other parties with him.”

“So what happened after that?” I asked.

“I wanted to forget about the entire episode so I left the garage and went back into the house. I went on with my life, Keysha. I summed up the incident with Justine and Simon as one of life's lessons. I just wanted to have a good time. I wasn't thinking about the consequences of my actions. I never knew your mom had gotten pregnant that night. I was never told about it, and I don't know what the circumstances were with your mom at the time that left doubt in her mind as to who your father was. I made a bad judgment call that night. I never thought that my mistake would lead to your birth.”

“So I guess I'm the poster child for unprotected sex.” I was being both sarcastic and truthful.

“You're not the poster child for anything. Keysha, none of this is your fault.”

“What?” I asked, not sure if I'd heard him correctly.

“I said none of this is your fault. What I did was beyond your control. I'm so sorry that I wasn't available to you as a father. I'm so sorry for anything that you've had to go through as a result of my absence.” When Jordan said that I felt better.

“Tell me something about you?” I asked. “I barely know you. Like, what's your favorite color, and what is your favorite food?” Jordan smiled at me, and I smiled back at him.

“I'm not sure that I have a favorite color but my favorite food is macaroni and cheese.” Jordan laughed again. His laugh made me laugh.

“I know how to cook. I could make you some if you'd like,” I said.

“I'd like it very much if you made me some.”

“Okay, I have another question,” I said, feeling butterflies dancing in my stomach. At that moment I felt the little girl within me come forward and ask questions that I never could.

“Have your ever sat at the beach and built a sand castle?”

“I used to build them all the time when I was a boy. I learned how to do it from a guy on the beach in Miami, Florida. We used to vacation there every summer. I used to build them and pretend that I was riding up to it on my horse.”

“Really?” I asked, filled with excitement.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Let me ask you a question,” Jordan said. “Are you happy that you know who I am now?” I didn't know how to answer that question. I had to think about it for a minute.

“I guess a part of me is glad that I can put a face and name to my father, but another part of me just isn't very sure about you.”

“Okay, I can understand that. I have another question. Tell me something that you really enjoy doing.”

I was about to tell him about all of the books I'd read and how much I loved reading, but Barbara walked up and interrupted us.

“Jordan,” she spoke directly to him without so much as saying a word to me. “I need to speak with you.”

“Give me a minute,” Jordan said, wanting to continue our conversation.

“This can't wait. I need to speak with you right now, in private.” I rolled my eyes at that heifer. She didn't want or need to speak with him. She just couldn't stand the fact that I was spending time with my daddy. Barbara locked her gaze on me for a moment, and I could tell that she didn't like the fact that Jordan and I were spending time with each other. I felt as if I was competing with her and I was ready to fight her. It wasn't fair in my mind. She'd known him for years and wasn't willing to give me one hour alone with him. I began to think of mean things I could do to her. In my mind I felt there wasn't enough room for the both of us.

“I need you to help me go over my campaign literature.”

“Campaign literature?” I said aloud.

“Yes, I'm running for re-election as president of the school board. There is no need for your help. It's a little too complicated for you.”

Oh, no, she didn't just say that to me
. I was about to snap the hell out on her, but Jordan didn't let me.

“We'll talk some more later on, okay?” Jordan said, looking at me. “I promise. I have so much more that I want to share with you. I need to tell you about the history of our family.” I calmed down and agreed that it was okay with me if we spoke later on.