Blue Sky Page 8

  “I have decided on a date.”

  “You did?” I couldn’t hide my genuine surprise. I always figured men needed be dragged down the aisle kicking and screaming.

  “Two months on the fourteenth. It’s a Saturday.”

  “Oh. Okay. I was thinking we might wait…a little while…until I get my degree?”

  He leaned forward to change the radio station and replied, “Why would we do that? Four years is a long time. An extremely long time.”

  “Sure, but…” It was a lot to ask, but it would be Mama’s first question. She’d want to make sure I finished college because she dropped out of high school to marry my daddy. “I’m already registered for classes this fall. It might not feel like that long.”

  “It will. Trust me.” He shook his head, adding a visual to his words. “No man is going to wait that long for you.”

  I wanted to ask if he meant for me or for women in general, but I sat quietly looking out the window instead. Wishing for the winter wonderland of picturesque Christmas cards until I felt the pressure of his hand squeezing my thigh. It always began in this way. The strength of his touch would increase steadily until my legs began to part. He poked and clawed at the crotch of my stockings.

  “L-Let’s not tonight, okay? Let’s talk about the wedding. We have so much to do.”

  He didn’t agree, but he didn’t disagree either. In fact, he didn’t say a word. His body leaned toward me until we were both in the passenger seat with him on top.

  “I…I don’t think anybody could plan a wedding in two months. H-How about a year? Jean-Louis?”

  “Mmmm…” His mouth pressed against mine.

  My head turned left and right, fighting to avoid his kiss in favor of the discussion at hand, and a girlish giggle slipped out. “Come on, honey! I’m serious!”

  My right cheek was less than an inch from the window. The threat of its coolness veered closer and closer until I felt chills up and down my arms. His fingers pulled at the waistband of my control-top pantyhose. His lips lavished mine with one smothering kiss after another, sending my heart into a frazzled state.

  “I am tired of waiting.”

  I nodded. He’d said as much every time we were alone together. So, I knew my virginity was living on borrowed time.

  “A little longer. Nine—six months maybe.”

  He reached into the darkness beside my seat and yanked at the lever, sending the passenger seat into a reclining position, while his other hand explored a different kind of darkness.

  “Jean! Stop!” It came out as a whisper, but he paused long enough for me to catch my breath. My chest rose and fell at a steady pace, relief flooding through my body. Until I made out the sound of a zipper unzipping.

  “Give me your hand.”

  The clock on the dash said 9:52. I’d refused him what he truly wanted, so I swallowed hard and did what he asked, wrapping my trembling fingers around his penis. Ten o’clock came, and I thought my arm was going to fall off.

  “Do it! Do it!” He thrusted forward into my grasp.

  His feet and knees collided clumsily against mine. I tried to move them out of his way, but my pantyhose were bunched up around my knees, trapping my legs in that position. He seemed to realize this the same moment I did and ripped them in two. His body fit perfectly between my legs.

  “I…I think we should stop now. Okay?”

  “No.”

  “No?” I asked, pressing both hands gently against his shoulders. “I…we…we’re…”

  It was going too far. I began to wonder if he’d even noticed I’d withdrawn my hand, but I figured he had since his thrust had become more direct. Like he was angry at my underwear for being in the way.

  “It’s late. We have to stop now. I…I have to go home.”

  “No,” He grunted.

  Panic settled into my fingertips, pushing harder against his shoulders. My mind was telling me to be more forceful. To let him know I was serious.

  “Stop.”

  There was a tug at the crotch of my underwear and then pressure the likes of which I’d never felt before. Mouthfuls of air invaded my lungs and still I was breathless. The image of a snowman with a carrot nose and buttons for eyes came to mind, and I held on to that until he was finished.

  ◼︎

  I couldn’t go home. So, Jean-Louis drove me to Mama’s house, walked me to the door, and kissed me goodbye. I didn’t ask him to come in, and he didn’t seem to mind. Said he had some charts to fill out before he made rounds tomorrow.

  Shivering on the porch, I followed his car with my eyes as he drove off. My feet were numb, and my fingers frozen to the lapel of my coat. It didn’t quite fit properly—big in the chest and tight around my middle—but that was normal for me.

  I rang the bell. When I was a kid I was the only one of my sisters trusted with a key. Now I was the only one without.

  “Hi Nikki!” Natalie pulled the front door open and waved from behind the screen door. “Mama, Nikki’s here!”

  I knew the heat was on because Jenna ran down the hall wearing only a shirt and a pair of shorts. Her sandy-brown hair fluttered behind her as she skipped down the hall. Mama was in the kitchen wearing a red-and-black checkered turtleneck sweater and black leggings. Six kids and her figure was still intact.

  “Hey, baby, what brings you by so late?”

  I nodded, still shivering from the memory of the cold. “Can I…can I stay here tonight?”

  “Sure, baby. This still your house you know. You’ll have to bunk with one of your sisters, but they not gonna mind.”

  Jackie would. Jackie might smother me in my sleep.

  “You okay? You coming down with something?”

  I shook my head. I hadn’t parted with my coat yet. I was still too cold. So I took a seat at the kitchen table and started counting the floor tiles.

  “Is it ready yet?” Jackie lacked basic patience, but that never translated to help in the kitchen. She took a few steps inside the kitchen and stopped when she saw me.

  “Almost,” Mama answered, putting the final touches of icing on the cake.

  She didn’t pick up on the look Jackie gave me. She never did.

  “Get an extra plate for Nikki.”

  Jackie turned on her heel, rolling her eyes. My sister had never liked me, not from day one. She came home from the hospital with one goal: to make me invisible. Didn’t take her long. All she had to do was cry or laugh or sing, and Mama didn’t see anybody but Jackie.

  “Mya upstairs?”

  “Mmhmm.”

  I took the stairs carefully as if they might give way under my feet. Almost ran into Heziah as he stepped out of the bathroom. I muttered a greeting and ducked into the second room on the left. Mya was sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by textbooks, with the telephone pressed against her ear.

  “Mmhmm,” she was saying as I closed the door behind me.

  She and Jackie couldn’t have been more different, but somehow they still managed to get along. It irritated me. Mya was too smart not to see what I saw. She just never said anything. So, I had to speak up for both of us otherwise Jackie would get away with murder.

  “Let me call you back,” she said to whoever was on the other end of the line. The receiver clicked against the base, and Mya looked up at me. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  “You okay?”

  I nodded. “I’m getting married.”

  Mya was quiet. She pushed herself up to a sitting position and crossed her legs Indian style. Bit her lip as she mulled over what to say. Congratulations was traditional, but perhaps my sister didn’t know that.

  “When?”

  “Two months.”

  Each bundle of nerves in my body cheered as Ramon tilted his head toward mine, our lips drawing closer together until there wasn’t any space between them. Kissing. I was surprised folks made such a big deal about it. Once I got passed the obvious questions about how to do it properly, it was nice. Not stupendous or amazin
g. Nice. Like chicken.

  “You wanna…” His head jerked in the direction of the street.

  “Yeah.” Sitting on the bleachers was starting to hurt my butt anyway.

  The weatherman had promised snow, but I didn’t believe him. The sun was out and shining bright. Ramon slipped his fingers between mine, and we walked to the end of the row then down the metal steps until we were level with the baseball field. Ramon didn’t know anything about the sport. He knew enough about basketball to convince his friends he was cool, but he didn’t care enough to keep up with scores or attend any of our games. He had other things to worry about.

  “Gotta go check on things. You coming?”

  Jackie wasn’t expecting me. She’d said she was going straight home, but that was a lie. Word around the school was Nash had dumped his girlfriend for my more interesting sister although that ain’t mean she was with Nash at that moment. You never could tell with Jackie.

  “Mya? You coming with me or you going home?”

  Mama was gonna blow a gasket when neither me nor Jackie showed up. “I’m going with you.”

  She’d get over it.

  “It won’t take long.” Ramon lifted the oversized waistband of his jeans, but they slumped down again as soon as his grip relaxed. “Just gonna run by my corner and make sure these fools know what’s up. Can’t be having ‘em thinking they can get away with shit ‘cause I ain’t around every fucking minute.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “What?”

  “The f-word.”

  “Ahh, I forgot.” Ramon had one smile. It only came out when he was about to make fun of somebody. “You don’t like bad words. You ain’t never cursed before in your life, have you?”

  I didn’t see the need. The English language was brimming with a plethora of interesting words.

  “That ‘cause your daddy a preacher?”

  “He wasn’t my daddy. I only got one daddy. Ricky Morrow.”

  “Aight.” Ramon’s frown quickly turned apologetic for having ruffled my feathers. “So, was he strict?”

  “No.”

  “Would he be cool with me? You think?”

  “Doubt it. Daddy ain’t like other men being around us.”

  “You mean you and Jackie.”

  “No, I mean all of us. Mama too.”

  “Sound strict to me.”

  A bronze Cadillac rolled past us, blowing its horn at the car in front of it for driving too slow. The little old lady inside didn’t pay any mind to the fact she was holding up traffic.

  “Mya?”

  I wasn’t watching the cars. I was looking at ‘em, but I was thinking. Thinking about why what he said had started to piss me off. It had been happening to me more and more. Somebody would say something, sometimes not even to me, but I’d catch it just the same, and then the tickling would start in my fingertips. And make its way up to my elbows, my shoulders, and before long my arms would be ready to explode with energy like two grenades somebody pulled the pins out of.

  “Mya.”

  “I said he wasn’t strict.”

  “Okay, if you say so. I’m just saying sound like he kept a pretty tight hold on y’all.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “Hey, wait up!”

  It was Mama always trying to rein me in with all the rules about what I couldn’t do. Couldn’t climb trees. Couldn’t stay out past five. Couldn’t go too far from our block. She got all uptight about everything. Couldn’t even run without her fussing over the possibility of me falling. Of course, she never did that to nobody but me.

  Ramon gave up after I crossed the intersection. He would’ve had to run to keep up with me, and that wasn’t gonna happen.

  I got home about a minute after that, but I didn’t notice until the front door closed behind me. Mama was standing in the foyer waiting with both hands on her hips. Her lips were moving a mile a minute, probably going on and on about me being late and Jackie not being with me. I’d learned to tune folks out when I needed to. Could put them on mute, like they were the television or something.

  “Can I go to my room?” I wouldn’t have said it if she wasn’t standing in my way. I moved left and she went right, mirroring me. Blocking my path on purpose. So now I was trapped on top of being pissed off.

  “Answer me.”

  “I got homework.”

  “It can wait. You gonna tell me where you been and where yo’ sister is. Tell me right now!”

  “I been where I always am. In my skin, and Jackie where she always is—in her skin.”

  “Girl.” Mama wagged her finger at me. “Don’t you get smart now. Y’all don’t know how lucky you is that it’s me and not somebody else standing here.”

  Lucky? I was lucky?

  “Now, I’m your mama, and I know you think you know everything, but you gone have to trust me when I say I know what’s best. If your daddy was here, he wouldn’t even try to talk some sense into you—”

  “You shut up talkin’ about my daddy!”

  One of the twins started to whine, but neither me nor Mama turned to see which one. We stared at each other. Locked onto one another, veering toward the past. Few seconds later, her gaze dropped to the floor, and she sent me to my room. I obliged happily.

  ◼︎

  The thump startled me, but I was already awake. I had been staring at the ceiling. Thinking. The idea felt almost easy as long as it stayed cozy inside my mind. So, I knew if it was going to be real, I needed to hear it aloud.

  My sheet and blanket fell silently to my lap as I rose from my bed. The thumping was less distinct now, similar to a rustling or shuffling. With my eyes closed, I matched the sounds to her movements as I tiptoed down the hall. She’d waited until the crack of dawn to climb in through the window of her bedroom.

  If it were me, I would’ve climbed the sturdy old oak that put down roots on the left side of the house, but Jackie was not me. She most likely got the ladder from the shed and pushed it up against the house.

  “Good Lord!” she exclaimed as I slipped into the darkness with her. “Damn, Mya. Make a sound why don’t you.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You about scared me to death.”

  She was the one sneaking around in the dead of night, but I scared her? Jackie kicked her shoes in the general direction of her closet, took a few stumbling steps toward her bed, collapsing in a pile of faint giggles.

  “Oh, Mya, Mya, Mya…” She grinned at the plain white ceiling above us. “You’re my favorite, you know that?”

  I did. It wasn’t hard to figure out. Nat and the twins were too young, and she couldn’t stand Nikki. That left me.

  “Girls don’t like me.” She confided with a smile. “I don’t know why. I’m cool. Right?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded and got into bed next to her. “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “But wherever I go they don’t like me. I want a girlfriend. Do you have a girlfriend? That girl…what’s her name? The one with the braids. Asia or Africa or something.”

  “China.”

  “Right. I want me a China. Boys are only temporary, but girlfriends, they last forever. You could be my girlfriend.”

  “I’m your sister.”

  “You are, aren’t you?” She smiled dreamily and gently pushed my hair off my face. “You’re smarter than me. And prettier.”

  “Stop that.” I shook my head against her pillow, trying to keep her from fondling my face.

  Jackie giggled. “Mya’s soooo pretty.” She swiped her finger against my nose playfully. “I got me the prettiest sister there is.”

  “Jackie—”

  “When we grow up you can be the model, and I’ll handle all the money.”

  “You drunk?”

  “A little,” she admitted, still smiling. “I’ll be your manager. We’ll go all over the world.” She yawned.

  “I gotta ask you something. About…about sex.”

  “Okay.” />
  “What’s it like?”

  She shrugged and went back to studying the ceiling. I thought I’d lost her again to one of her silly fantasies, but at that moment, she said, “It’s like floating on a sea of nothingness, hoping something will fill you up, but nothing ever does.”

  I was hoping for a more definitive answer. Before I could ask a more direct question, she began twisting and turning, cozying up to me. Her hair stretched out behind her as she buried the left side of her face in her pillow and stretched one arm over my stomach. I probably should’ve tried harder to look after her. Jackie liked to think she didn’t need it, but she did.

  Ruined. The social worker said. Wielded the word ‘gainst me like a weapon. From her point of view, I’d ruined Jackie, or I’d let her be ruined. Either way, it was my fault.

  Heziah sighed as another bottle clinked in the trash can. Vodka, gin, tequila—some even mixed with juice or fruit punch. All perfectly sized to fit in her backpack.

  “I was afraid of this. Belinda? You see this? This makes…” He paused to count. “Five bottles.”

  I nodded.

  “We can’t ignore this. We gotta do something.”

  I nodded again. I’d been holding my breath, waiting to find a box of condoms, thinking that was as bad as it could get.

  “It’s them foster people. They got her drinking.”

  Heziah ain’t believe me. He still lived in a world where folks was basically good. He moved on to her closet, sticking his head in the darkness among her clothes. “Why would they do that, Belinda?”

  “To make it easier to…umm…it ain’t her fault.”

  “Okay, whose fault is it?”

  He emerged from the closet holding a travel mug. Popped the top and took a sniff. “Let’s go.”

  We’d kicked the girls outta their rooms and told ‘em to wait downstairs. They set about occupying themselves for the last twenty minutes.

  “What are you gonna do?”

  “I’m going to confront her and make sure she understands this is unacceptable. I don’t know if they have rehab places for girls her age, but I’ll look into it.”