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He takes his slow sweet time comin’ down the stairs, then peers around the wall. I glare at him. “Boy, get over here,” Darius says to him. “What you gotta say to Ma?”
He lowers his head. “I’m sorry.”
I narrow my eyes, clenchin’ my teeth. “Boy, I wanna wrap a cord around ya neck and swing you through the goddamn streets for doing that shit. Why the fuck you do it? And before you shrug ya goddamn shoulders and say you don’t know, you better think long and hard.” I place a hand on my hip, waiting to see if I’ma have to punch him in his mouth or not.
His lips quivers. “I got really mad.”
“Why’d you get mad, Isaiah?”
“ ’Cause Missus Lambert never picks me in class. She picks the other kids to do stuff and always acts like I’m not there.”
I frown. “What the fuck you mean, Missus Lambert don’t pick you?”
Tears start fallin’. “When I raise my hand to answer questions or to go to the board, she won’t pick me. She told the class that if they wanna end up in jail or dead to look at me.”
My eyes pop open in disbelief. “Say whaaaat?!” I snap, shakin’ my head. “That bitch said what?” He repeats what she said. “Are you makin’ this shit up, Isaiah? ’Cause you know I will tear that ho’s ass up.”
He shakes his head. “No. She said it. And the kids were laughin’ at me.”
Oh, I’m steamin’ now. You don’t fuck with my goddamn kids. I don’t give a fuck who you are. And you don’t make them feel like they ain’t shit. When I was their age, I didn’t have anyone encouragin’ me, or tellin’ me I could be a lawyer or a doctor or the next top supermodel. No one made me feel special. No, I had a grandmother who kept tellin’ me I was gonna end up bein’ a junkie-whore like my mother. That I was worthless like her; that I would be found somewhere dead.
No, Beulah didn’t have a goddamn kind word for me. And she didn’t give a damn about me. All that old bitch cared about was gettin’ her monthly check from the state for me. I had to look for encouragement in the goddamn streets, in the backseat of some horny niggah’s car, or in some alleyway, or abandoned buildin’. I never wanted to be a junkie bitch. So I wasn’t gonna allow shit Beulah said about me make me become that. And I be goddamned if I’ma let some bitch or no-good niggah try that shit with any of my kids.
I feel all the blood rushin’ to my goddamn head. I’m ready to go off. I pull out a chair and sit. “Come here,” I say to him. He moves slowly over to me, and starts crying. “Stop crying. I’m not gonna hit you.” I pull him into my arms and give him a kiss. Then I grab him by the shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Do you wanna end up in jail or dead?”
He shakes his head, wipin’ his tears. “No.”
“Then fuck what that bitch said. That ho don’t know shit. You stay in school, get good grades, play sports, stay focused and outta trouble, and you can be the next president of the goddamn United States if that’s what you wanna be. I don’t send you to school to curse out teachers. You know I didn’t raise you to be disrespectful to adults. And you had no goddamn business pullin’ out ya motherfuckin’ cock. But did you have on clean drawers and was ya body lotioned?”
He nods. “Yes.”
“Mmmph. Ya black ass better be glad ’cause I woulda really beat yo’ ass for havin’ on dirty drawers or showin’ off an ashy-ass dingaling. But don’t you do that shit again, you hear me?”
He nods, again.
“Good. Ya ass is still gonna be on punishment, though. And where the hell you see someone pullin’ out their damn dick and tellin’ someone to suck it, anyway?”
He shrugs.
I eye him. “Don’t do it, boo-boo. I will take it to ya throat boy, and you know it. So you better say it.”
“At Daddy’s.”
“What? You saw ya fahver do some shit like that?”
He shakes his head. “No, I was watchin’ it on a movie.” I ask him what kinda movie. He tells me that when he was stayin’ at his fahver’s over the summer that he found videos of people havin’ sex and watched them while his fahver and that bitch LaQuandra were asleep.
“And where’d you find these movies?”
“In the closet. They were in a box on the floor, and I wanted to see what they were doing.”
I sigh, decidin’ to deal with this later. “Did ya fahver call here?”
“Yes. He wants you to call him.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ma call him later. But, first thing tomorrow, I’ma be down at that school, again, draggin’ that bitch outta the classroom.”
Shit. I forgot I can’t go up in the school ’cause that punk-ass bitch LaQuandra got a restrainin’ order on me. “On second thought, I’ma meet that teacher bitch out in the parkin’ lot.”
