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“Maaaaaaaaaa, plllllllllleeeease,” she screeches into the phone. Now I ain’t gonna front. Day’Asia’s ass is like me, she ain’t one for sheddin’ no tears. So this does kinda have me feelin’ a lil’ soft around the edges. But not enough to let this bitch back up in here. “I’m s-s-sorrrrrry. Pleaaaaaase, Ma, let me come home.”
“Oh no, Miss Hot Ass. I ain’t acceptin’ no apologizies today. You can’t come back up in here. You wanna be grown, remember? Talkin’ all goddamn slick to me. Fuckin’ in here all up on my goddamn sheets. Skippin’ school and not bringin’ ya black ass in this house when I tell you to. You wanna get Dees and Effs on ya motherfuckin’ report cards, like school don’t mean shit to you. Coon, boom! I’m not havin’ some hot pussy bitch who I can’t trust up in here.”
She coughs and cries and sniffs. “I promise . . . I’ll . . . listen to . . . you.”
“Lies! If you don’t wanna stay where you at, then go take ya ass to Philly and stay with ya brokedown fahver.”
“I-I-I don’t wanna . . . stay wit’ . . . him.”
“Well, then, that’s too goddamn bad. Now don’t call me no goddamn more.”
I disconnect. My heart aches. But that bitch gotta learn you don’t disrespect ya mother and you don’t ever turn ya ass up to someone for them to kiss it when they’ve been good to ya and have always had ya goddamn back.
I feel myself gettin’ kinda choked up. But I ain’t goin’ there. I pick up my cell and call her ass back. When she picks up, I can tell she’s still cryin’. I tell her to have her ass here on Saturday at ten in the mornin’. I tell her that she’s to come alone and meet me in the backyard, on time or don’t come at all. “You wanna come home, you gonna have to fight ya way back up in here. If you whip my ass, since you a bad bitch, you can come home. So be laced up and ready to fight.”
I disconnect, then crawl back in bed under my covers. I wipe a tear that’s slid down my cheek, then shut my eyes, tryna hold back the rest that are rimmin’ my eyes. I’ma fuck her up real good!
“Fight me, bitch!” I urge, pushin’ Day’Asia. She stumbles backward. We’re in the fenced backyard, alone with nothin’ but space and air between us. All of the boys are with their fahvers—surprisin’ly, so it’s just me and this traitor. She looks a mess in her raggedy wears: a pair of pink Juicy sweats from last summer all twisted up in her ass and a white long sleeve Tee with the word JUICY FRUIT stretched over her big titties. Day’Asia has always been tall and thin, but it looks like she’s lost at least ten pounds. She really didn’t have much of an ass before but now her shit’s really flat. The only thing that’s right is her hair. Dickalina done laid it out in a bob and put burgundy highlights in it. But I’ma ’bout to fuck it to pieces so it don’t matter.
I have on an old pair of light blue tie-dyed 7 For All Mankind stretch jeans, a thin blue long-sleeve hoodie and a pair of baby-blue Timbs on my feet. My face is slathered in Vaseline and I have my weave in one long braid tucked down in my shirt and the hood up over my head and tied tight so Day’Asia can’t grab my hair. I’m in my fightin’ stance, bouncin’ around, throwin’ jabs and brushin’ my thumbs across my nose.
“I don’t know why you come here with ya hair all done up when all I’ma do is snatch it outta ya goddamn scalp. You ain’t no real street bitch.”
My kids know I don’t take no shit. And they know how far to do me before I go from classy to ghetto to hood-crazy. Day’Asia done kicked it up to the latter, and now I’m ready to wear her ass out. And she is scared shitless! I’ve been pushin’ and shovin’ and slappin’ her and she still hasn’t swung, yet. “I wanna fight, bitch! I’ve been waitin’ all goddamn week for this.”
I punch her.
“Fight me!”
“Plllleeeeease, Mom,” she pleads. “I don’t wanna fight you.”
“Yes you do, ho.” I slam my shoulder into her, knockin’ her backward. “Hit me, bitch!” I push her. “Do me like I’m one’a them bitches out in the street.”
I punch her upside the head.
She throws her arms up over her face and head, tryna block my blows. She starts cryin’. But she knows not to run from me. Not if she wanna get her ass back up in this house. “I-I-I d-d-d-don’t . . . wanna . . . fight . . . you.”
“Then why you raise up on me, huh, Day’Asia? Why when I told ya black ass you couldn’t leave up outta this house you tried to leave anyway, huh? Why you yank ya goddamn arm from me?” I slap her, again. “Why you try to do me?”
“I-I—”
Before she can get the rest of her words out, I grab her by her shirt collar and swing her to the ground. “Why you do me, Day’Asia, huh, ho? Why you turn ya back on me, bitch? And now you don’t wanna fight me!” I hook my hands up in her hair and start draggin’ her around the yard. She’s screamin’. But I don’t give a fuck. “You gonna fight me, bitch? You gonna be a woman about ya shit, huh, Day’Asia?”
“Owwwww, Mom . . . puhllllleeeeeeeeze. I don’t wanna . . . puhlllllleeeeeeeze. I’ll do whatever you . . . want . . . ”
I jump on her and start punchin’ her like a wild woman. “I will kill you, Day’Asia. Is that what you want, huh? You wanna be dead, don’t you?”
“N-nooooo . . . ”
“Then why you do me, huh? Why you turn ya goddamn back on me and let that dirty hoodrat bitch disrespect me?” With my left hand pressed around her neck, I dig my nails into her throat, then smack her with my right hand. She’s gaspin’. “I will take a box cutter to ya face, Day’Asia, and gut ya grill out. Is that what you want? You want me to peel ya goddamn face off? Fight me, bitch! Do me—”
Outta nowhere, I feel hands on me, tryna
yank me off Day’Asia. “Yo, Ma! What da fuck is you doin’, yo?!” It’s Darius and he’s tryna pry my hands from around her neck.
“Let go, Ma, before you hurt her. C’mon, Ma, get da fuck. Off. Her.”
It takes him a few minutes to finally wrestle me off her. And when he finally does, I am crazed, practically foamin’ at the mouth. She’s heavin’ and coughin’ and gaspin’. Her bottom lip is busted and her nose is bleedin’.
