The Blackbirds (39 page)

“You're making me cry.”

“As far as I am concerned, it will be two less people I have to worry about.”

“Thanks, Destiny.”

“I had to let you know I knew. I can't be phony. I can't be fake, not for long.”

“I feel so much better knowing that you know.”

“I don't.”

“Sure you're not angry?”

“This cancer shit. Guess it tears some folks apart and pulls others closer.”

Ericka paused. “Yeah. I guess feeling like life is short, seeing others die, the way I suffered and felt like the walking dead, it made me feel like I deserve to have at least one thing go right in my life, and that thing was your dad. It made me a lot bolder than I normally am. I guess he took care of me when I needed help the most.”

“Dad told me his biopsy came back negative for prostate cancer.”

“I know. I was so damn happy when he told me that. I was so stressed not knowing.”

“He told you before he told me? Are you saying he notified you first?”

“Sorry about that. I think you walked in on our little celebration. We had a good time. He's better. He will be better. He'll be cured all the way. I wanted to celebrate that with him. I needed him to have that memory of us that day. I wanted to celebrate life and love and give him any sexual fantasy he wanted.”

“Ericka Stockwell, no, no, no. Refrain from implying anything sexual about my dad.”

“Sorry.”

Destiny said, “And don't expect me to call you Mom. And please, no sex stories. And never ever bring him to your apartment to spend the night. That would be both gross and weird, especially if I have company. My company walking out of my apartment, and my dad walking out of your crib at the same time. That would be so damn creepy, the sun might explode.”

“You're already seeing someone else, Destiny?”

“I'm done dating. I'm serious. Might have to have the occasional one-off. Or go back to being Kismet Kellogg, if it gets to the point that I just have to have some male company.”

Ericka said, “Just don't give up. We will have trials and tribulations, we will be tested, and if we stay in the game, if we press on, if we believe in ourselves, we will win. Victory might not come as fast as you want it, or in the way you want it, but if you press on, you will win.”

“And this is why I love you, Ericka. This is the part of you I wished was inside of me.”

“Dubois tracked you down. That is kind of romantic.”

“That should be illegal. We should turn his mother in for letting him steal your number.”

“He remembered your birthday.”

“Yeah, well, I remember his too, but have I ever called him? Not once in ten years.”

“So, are we going see some comedy later?”

“Nah. I'll stand him up.”

“You're going to stand up the stand-up while he's performing stand-up.”

“Stop it.”

“You're going to leave him hanging.”

“That's basically what he did to me ten years ago.”

“Now he sees the ugly duckling has become a beautiful swan.”

“With the classic ass.”

“You can't spell
classic
without having
ass
in the middle.”

“I was never ugly, but I do look very hot now compared to the way I looked back then.”

“Your life would have been different if he had never gone away.”

“My life would have been different. One phone call from him back then, after I had given him my virginity, after I was scared and thought I was pregnant, but wasn't, and everything would have been different. In one of those universes, he called, he came back, and we dated. We might have broken up later, or married and had kids, then divorced, or still be happy, but we dated.”

“The things we carry. The hopes, the fears, the memories, the nightmares.”

“It's in my bags with the rest. Not the heaviest thing, but it's heavy and I would love to put it down, be done with it. Actually I had put it down. But it came back like a boomerang.”

Kwanzaa and Indigo came back over, laughing and pushing on each other.

Indigo said, “Kwanzaa is dating a customer at Starbucks,
dating
being a euphemism.”

“You said you weren't going to tell until I said I wanted to tell.”

“That's where she's been hiding when's she MIA. He's gentrifying her coochie.”

Ericka asked Kwanzaa, “Well, who is this guy who has made you so damn secretive?”

“His name is Cristiano. We can talk about him later.”

“You like him? You're over Brixton?”

“Cristiano is twice the man Brixton was. And he's kinder. And he's fun.”

“Look at that smile. Do we need a wedding planner?”

“Shut your face. This is a month-by-month thing. Maybe week-by-week.”

Kwanzaa took out her phone, put it in camera mode, and handed it to Destiny.

Kwanzaa said, “Since we're snitching like witches, Indigo got her passport stamped.”

Indigo snapped, “Be quiet, Kwanzaa. I confided in you, and this is what you do?”

Ericka asked, “What does that mean?”

Kwanzaa said, “She went back to Britain. She's working on her dual citizenship.”

“It was just a field trip. That's all it was. It was a much-needed vacation and I have gained perspective on life, warded off being burned-out, and my creativity has been enhanced. I needed some moments away from everyone, especially Olamilekan and Yaba. I needed to be away from my parents, away from Nigeria, and away from you three drama queens. I rested my body and expanded my mind and I appreciate all I have. I allowed a friend to appreciate me. I behaved like a criminal, but I'm back home now. Back home for good. I love men, but I can understand why women need a break from men.”

Kwanzaa sang, “She licked a girl, and she liked it.”

Indigo said, “I had a moment of reflection and lasting appreciation. If you say a word, if you make a joke, I will wave your panties in the air.”

Ericka asked, “Same girl?”

“No. Someone else. An American girl who can't find Africa on a map, but she is sexy.”

“Was this at Venice Beach?”

“You saw me?”

“I saw your motorcycle.”

“What were you doing at the beach?”

“Buying Kush.”

Indigo said, “I am not a lesbian. I think I was angry. And this girl made an offer.”

“Are you still seeing Olamilekan?”

“Of course I am. I just had a diversion, as he has had many diversions.”

Destiny said, “Let Indigo be Indigo and let it go.”

Ericka handed Destiny her phone, then Indigo did the same.

Indigo said, “Destiny, take a lot of photos of us. Ericka, Kwanzaa, since we are half naked, and wet, let's get our
Charlie's Angels
pose with the ocean and the boats in the background.”

Ericka said, “We have to take one posing in front of the helicopter too.”

Destiny held the camera as the girls posed, but didn't take the shot. Instead she looked to the sky as if she could see all the galaxies, all the universes, and imagined that version of her she wanted to become, the one who was happy and didn't know she was happy.

She lowered the phone, looked at her confident girls.

Destiny shook her head. “No, I'm not taking the picture this time.”

Indigo said, “And why not?”

“I don't want to be the group photographer anymore.”

Ericka asked, “What's going on, Destiny?”

“I don't want to be an outsider taking your photos. I'm done with that.”

Kwanzaa asked, “Are you offended because we always ask you to take the photos?”

Destiny said, “I don't want to be behind the camera. I want to be in the picture.”

The other Blackbirds paused, stood where they were, three Nubian statues in the sun.

“Are you serious?”

“Destiny, you're joking right?”

“You don't take pictures. We respect that. You know we do.”

Destiny snapped, “I want to be in the pictures.”

Indigo asked, “Are you having a breakdown?”

Destiny kept her eyes to the sky as if she could see the version of Destiny who never left her grandparents' home that night; the girl who was never drugged, raped, recorded; the girl who never saw how ugly the world could become in an instant; a girl who never had to seek revenge.

She saw the version of herself who had never gone to Hoosegow.

She saw the version of herself that she would model herself after.

That version of herself was smart, enrolled at Harvard, took selfies, and never hid from the world.

Destiny looked across the universe, saw that version of Destiny, and she smiled.

Ericka went to Destiny. Indigo did the same, with Kwanzaa hurrying behind her.

They put their hands on Destiny Jones. The shared, they absorbed, they healed.

Destiny wiped her eyes. “I'm going to stop being afraid.”

One by one they all started to cry. Soft tears. Tears of joy.

Destiny said, “I'm not going to keep being afraid. There. I said it. I claim it. I am longer afraid to take a photo.”

Kwanzaa wiped her eyes and asked, “Are you sure?”

She said, “I'm sure. They don't like me, fuck 'em. Fuck Hakeem. Fuck the guy before him and the guy before that asshole. Fuck the people who did me wrong and fuck the people who cheered when I was sent to Hoosegow and fuck every bitch who booed me when I walked in Hoosegow and fuck every fucker who jeered when I was free again and fuck every fucking blogger and reporter that had shit to say and fuck every asshole who watched the video and fuck every fucker who made a joke about me being raped and fuck every fucker who fucking blamed the victim and fucking fuck 'em all.”

Ericka said, “Destiny—it's just as powerful if you say
bless
instead of
fuck.”

“
Fuck
leaves no room for ambiguity. I would hate for them to get a
fucking
blessing because I was not clear in my use of the English language. Ice Cube didn't say
bless
all y'all, he said
fuck
all y'all, and then he went after them with “No Vaseline.” I'm not using Vaseline.”

“Point taken. But are you sure you're ready to take photos, or be on camera?”

Destiny pulled her bleached sisterlocks back from her youthful face, then wiped her eyes.

“I said I'm sure, dammit. That means I'm
blessing
sure. Now bless me with the camera.”

Indigo took a breath and said, “Well, alrighty then. Destiny Jones has been mistreated like Miss Sofia in
The
Color Purple,
kicked ass like Miss Sofia in
The
Color Purple
wished she could have, has been locked up like Miss Sofia in
The
Color Purple,
and now our girl has woken up like Miss Sofia in
The
Color Purple,
and she has spoken. All her life she done had to fight.”

“From now on, I want to be in
all
group photos. I'm not going to keep myself trapped underground like a Chilean miner. I am out of the cave. I exist. I exist. I fucking exist.”

“We post them, Destiny.”

“And?”

“We use Instagram. LinkedIn.”

“And?”

“Snapchat. Pinterest.”

“And?”

“Twitter. Tumblr.”

“And?”

“We post them on all of our Facebook pages.”

“I don't care. If you're not ashamed of me, then I'm not ashamed to be seen with y'all.”

“We should make a Blackbirds page on Facebook.”

Destiny said, “Make it happen. The world can see me. They can say what they want to say. They don't own my universe.”

For the first time since Hoosegow, Destiny stepped up front and revealed herself to the camera. Then they were better than Charlie's Angels, they were Blackbirds, women who had lived through regrets and pain, smiling, laughing, being photographed over and over by a stranger.

Soon they were back in the helicopter, flying over the Pacific Ocean, still taking photos.

Only now they were all in the selfies.

When they landed, they zoomed to I Love Lulu hair salon on La Brea, to visit the Dominicans and let them work their West Indian magic as no other beauticians could.

Ericka had her hair cut short like Amber Rose, short like the fuzz on a peach, and dyed blonde. No one asked her why she cut all her hair off. The Blackbirds were preoccupied, talking, on cell phones, sending text messages, web surfing, and no one made mention of when Ericka had endured chemo and was bald, just said she looked amazing, stunning, had the right-shaped head and face to make that almost-bald cut hot and feminine. Ericka made herself smile, the results from the PET scan on her mind, and she hung on to her denial, kept the day joyous, kept talking as if she would have many tomorrows, took selfies and sent them to Mr. Jones, thinking, wondering which photo of her would be her last, which smile her last smile before she danced with Hemingway.

Like her girls, she kept many secrets.

Indigo had her braids taken down, washed, and then had her mane pressed, something she hadn't done in a long time. She sent those transitional images to her mother and father. She also sent the first images of her freshness to Olamilekan, paused, then sent the same images of her transformation to her ex Yaba. Finally, to one other person, to Rickie, someone not a lesbian.

Not that she didn't always look girly, but Indigo wanted to look more feminine so other women didn't see her as temptation, so she would no longer be tempted, and since Olamilekan seemed to fancy
women with long hair, maybe he would see her and have a stronger desire.

She thought about Olamilekan, but she was busy texting Yaba.

Rickie Sue sent her smiley faces and sexy photos. Indigo deleted them all, then blocked Rickie Sue's number. That had to be done. She had to be stronger than a wicked desire. She reminded herself she was a true Nigerian. She was a real Christian. No more trips to London. Her vacation was over. She didn't need to get her passport stamped again.

Kwanzaa wanted a brand-new look, something of which she knew Marcus Brixton would not approve, and as she chewed gum she found an edgy, curly style as unique and sexy and beautiful as the blessed and gifted man she was seeing. Kwanzaa decided to rock a teeny-weeny Afro with defined curls, one that made her look very much like Lupita Nyong'o. Compliment after compliment went her way, and she took selfies, sent them to her double-barreled lover, hoping what they had lasted for a long while, not forever, just for a long while, because like Indigo, their closet ailurophile who violated Nigerian law every now and again, for Kwanzaa, being with Cristiano was her vacation.

Destiny was no longer on the run. Her hair would no longer be used as her mask. She dyed her hair, was done with the white sisterlocks, and had her back-length mane taken back to its natural color. Once again her hair was dark brown, but she added golden highlights to the tips of her locks. She had it styled, back away from her face. Destiny Jones was no longer hiding. She used her phone and took selfies, sent them to her dad and to her mother. She sent one to Hakeem with a message.
Yeah, I'm Destiny Jones
.