Page 6 of Our Mother's Sons

“Stop saying that crazy shit! I didn’t cook your pet rabbit.”

“Yes, you did! I couldn’t find her, and then boom, you and your friends was in the yard eating fried rabbit like it was fish fry Friday.”

I had Lola when I was like eight. Third grade was the first year my brother and I had to take separate classes because we always got in trouble. I had a science project where we all had to pick an animal and give a presentation about it. My Grams was getting cocaine money so, I blew the whole basic ass class out the park when I rolled in with my power point and my rabbit. That hype lasted all of a week when I came home and they were in the yard sucking on rabbit bones. Shit still made me nauseous. I didn’t even know folks from Florida ate rabbit. A lil gator yeah. Maybe even turtle and beaver, but a rabbit? Grams was dead wrong. I didn’t talk to her or my brother for a month straight. He was guilty, too, since I caught him bringing them tobacco sauce.

“Stop saying that crazy shit. If you were adopting the baby, why in the hell did I have to lie to my grandson so that he wouldn’t come in and see her?”

My eyes bulged.

“Wait! Jeovanni came by?”

That nigga left the warehouse ten minutes before me. How the fuck?

“Umm hum. I sent him down to the corner store to get me a couple latto tickets. He should be back at any time.”

Pushing past my grandma, I opened the door to her bedroom. Even though she had central air, her ghetto ass still had an AC unit propped in the window, and she had it on blast too. The baby was laid out in the middle of the bed with one of our old t-shirts from when we were kids. My grandma kept everything, and from looking at how clean and well put together her home was, you wouldn’t tell. Open that shed in the backyard, though; one would see it was a hoarder’s paradise. Leaning over in the bed, I placed my hand on her back to make sure she was still breathing. She looked like a damn corpse in this tall ass bed. All the pillows that my Grams kept were stacked in the floor basket next to her fireplace, which was an add-on courtesy of her grandsons. The furniture was so big in here it was damn near a fire hazard to have the darn fireplace, electric and all.

“Jovani, she is asleep,” Grams spat in a harsh whisper.

“She looks unalive. And what is these damn cotton picking braids in her head?”

Her coily hair was in three plaits, flying every which way, and the strong smell of blue magic grease was present.

“I washed her hair and gave her a long bath. She’s been sleeping for hours. Poor child, no telling when she had a good night’s rest fooling with you.”

Knowing my brother could pop in any minute, I scooped up the baby who barely stirred in her sleep. With her head resting on my shoulder, I knew that cheap ass hair grease was going to stain my Prada shirt since I left my jacket in the car just as it had left a mark in Grams’s bed.

“Now, why are you taking her out of here? It’s storming and you live on the other side of town.”

“I can’t deal with the Sergeant right now. Me and Girl gotta go.”

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled off a fat knot, handed it to my Grams, and then snatched the small blanket she kept folded at the end of her bed and tossed it over the baby.

My Grams eyed the money but tucked it into her bra.

“What you just call her?”

“Her name. Girl.”

“I really think your womb donor dropped you on your head before she left you on my doorstep.”

“She probably did. You know her kind don’t like blacks.”

My Grams grabbed one of those recycled Marshalls bags from the floor and handed it to me.

“I had a friend bring me some diapers and a few outfits. They didn’t get pajamas, that’s why she’s in some of your old clothes. I didn’t know if she still takes formula since I have no clue of her age, but she’s been eating table food with me.”

“It’s cool, I got her some Pluck it in the car.”

My grandma looked mortified but I didn’t have time for this shit. Walking through her home that I knew off memory, I made it through the front door, beating the rain because the downpour came no sooner than I had Girl in the back seat. I nearly side-scraped my grandma’s Benz pulling out of the driveway. Just as I reached the stop sign, a car identical to mine turned on the street. Pushing the pedal to the metal, I got the fuck out of dodge. By the time I reached the expressway, I could breathe easier. Looking in the rear view, Girl was laid out in the back seat with her Celie braids.

My people could talk their asses off but, I was going to be a damn good foster daddy. Girl had just been holed up in a trafficking ring. She was better off with me anyway. Even my nephews cried when they had to leave my house. I was the lit twin. The kids loved Jovani. It wasn’t no Sergeant shit going on around these parts. He wanted me out the club and away from these bitches, cool. It was just me and my Jit.

Chapter3

Voyage Ridley

Anytime it rained, this cleanliness hung in the air that was hard to describe. I’ve gotten some of the best sleep when it rained and it sucked that instead of being sprawled out on my queen sized, I’d been on my feet for the last twelve hours. Along with sore feet, I had a thudding headache that wouldn’t go away, no matter how many Tylenols I swallowed. A crazy thing about it was that this was day two. That was my fault though for letting my cousin drag me to the club knowing damn well I didn’t go out and that I had to open the store for the next two days. Now that my shift was over, I should have been in the car and on my way home, but my shoes were kicked off while I sat Indian style on top of a beach towel with a carryout tray on my lap. The rain had stopped and I was taking full advantage.

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