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“Mmm.”
“So what you do?” she said, sitting down on one of the dining room chairs.
“I’m an accessories buyer at Macy’s.”
“Was dat?” she retorted with her face twisted.
“It’s when you choose wallets and belts for . . .”
“You make a lot of money?”
“I do okay,” I answered, appalled by her lack of class.
“You think you can hook me up? I’m tired of being on welfare, they hassle me so.”
“You ever worked in a store before?”
“Kentucky Fried Chicken, but that was only for the summer while my friend Kiki had her baby.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Just when I was going to run out screaming, leaving a body-print through the wall like a cartoon character, Randy and Ms. Thompson emerged with platters of food. It smelled great and I looked forward to a nice meal after such a tough journey.
“Alize! Ms. Thompson screamed.
“Alize, the food is ready!” Velma bellowed, obviously knowing how to summon her youngster.
Alize appeared rapidly with the mention of feeding her fat little face. Randy and his mother returned to the kitchen.
“Who’s that girl with Randy in the picture up there?” I asked, pointing in its direction.
Her big round face crept towards me as if she was going to tell me her deepest darkest secret.
“That was Randy’s fiancée, Tracy. She died just a couple of weeks after that picture was taken.”
“What happened to her?”
“She was in a car accident while she was visiting her folks in Michigan. Skull was all crushed up and shit, couldn’t even open the casket at the funeral.”
Oh, well, I thought. So much for copying the ex.
“I thought my brother was goin’
to die, too, when it happened. It took him a long time just to get out bed. But I didn’t like that bitch or her family anyway. I hate those light-skinned people. They think they’re better than everyone.”
I shook my head in disbelief. The accident was bad enough but her disrespect for the dead girl shocked me.
“That’s terrible,” I said, looking at the photo again.
“Don’t mention it, though. He gets all funny when we talk about her and it ain’t worth his attitude.”
“No problem.”
I noticed Alize’s facial expression as me and Velma talked, and she was stiff as a board. She didn’t look remotely alive until they brought out the food. I felt kind of sorry for her because it was obvious she was eating to cover some deeper emotional turmoil. Being named Alize was bad enough.
I couldn’t wait to get home to call Saundra and tell her what happened. It was killing me that her phone was busy, so I had to dial *66 to get a ring back when she was off the phone. The Pattersons are the only people I know who have not taken advantage of call waiting. Phil’s philosophy is that if you want to talk to him that bad, you’ll wait. I guess he’s right, but they really need to come into the twenty-first century.
In the meantime I decided to catch up on all the latest music videos on BET. After thirty-two minutes and nine seconds of watching young girls thrust their stuff in my face, the phone rang. I picked up the phone and waited to hear Saundra’s voice.
