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He nodded obediently and turned to Jazz who was standing in front of the microphone silently, looking at everyone.
Jazz cleared her throat to get everyone to focus their attention on her. “May I have your attention please; we’re about to begin, and out of respect for the artists, will everyone please keep down the background noise. If you must speak, please whisper softly. And if you have children, please keep them quiet or excuse yourself. Thank you.”
“Saundra, are you going to perform today?” I asked, hunching over to see her face.
“Nah, I haven’t written at all lately because it hasn’t been raining and that’s when I do my best work. Yero will be doing some stand-up comedy, though.”
“I didn’t know you were a comedian, Yero!” I laughed, trying to keep my voice down.
He shrugged modestly. “Not really. Sometimes me and Jazz do these little skits about stuff people can relate to, that’s about it; but art is my first love.”
“Yero made the sculpture that is next to the bathroom. We’ll go see it during the intermission,” Saundra said, smacking on some peanuts.
“I feel so ordinary amongst all of you artists,” I said.
“Oh, please, don’t even try it. The way you put together your clothes, what the hell do you think you are?” Saundra asked.
“Well, if that makes me an artist, then I’m fucking Picasso because I can dress my ass off!” I laughed.
Jazz interrupted what would have been one of my moments when she tapped the microphone, causing a screeching sound.
“Sorry . . . we’re really going to start now. Is everybody ready?” she asked, trying to get everyone pumped.
“Get on with it, “ a voice bellowed out, causing a sea of laughter.
Jazz stuck her tongue out at the guy and continued. “You all know him so he needs no real introduction. Here’s Derrick!” she yelled, pointing to her left and clapping as she went to sit down.
After clapping for a while, everyone got super quiet and I knew that he must be really deep or something because it takes a lot for Black folks to shut up. When he came from behind the curtain some people whistled. He was very attractive with a beautiful set of dimples that really got me going. He had on a nice ribbed cream-colored sweater and slacks of the same color and dark brown boots. Saundra’s description didn’t begin to capture his gorgeousness. After smiling and waving at the people he knew for a couple of seconds he finally pulled out a crumpled up piece of loose-leaf out of his pocket. Saundra turned around and snickered because she caught me with my mouth open as he cleared his throat to read a poem he called “Plants in the Sidewalk.” I ignored her childish display and listened closely to his soliloquy about truth springing up in places seemingly incapable of sustaining growth. Although I didn’t understand some of the terminology that other people strongly responded to, the detailed descriptions and his emotion moved me as he read. I saw Saundra wipe her eyes a couple of times and Yero’s even looked a little glassy. I noticed Kimiko and Lenny got romantic vibes from it because they were locked in a solid embrace.
As I watched Derrick leave the “stage” with a trail of tears and praise following him faithfully, I knew I was going to fuck him.
Chapter 29
SAUNDRA
Asha bugged me until I gave her Derrick’s phone number and that led to a major fight between me and Yero.
“My sister is going after Derrick.”
Yero chuckled. “Derrick could use a night with a hot piece like her. He is way too wrapped up in his work.”
We were sitting in my favorite Indian restaurant down in Greenwich Village. As I told Daddy, the plan was to have dinner there and then spend the night together at a nearby Howard Johnson’s motel just for a change of scenery. When I asked Daddy how he planned to spend his night off, he shrugged and said maybe he’d go see a movie with Evelyn.
I’d just stuffed a piece of naan into my mouth when Yero made his crude remark.
“Excuse me?” I asked politely.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not criticizing Derrick or anything. He’s going to make it as a poet someday and there’s not a brother I can think of who deserves it more.”
“I’ve never heard you talk about any woman like that, Yero, and it doesn’t work for me. Especially since the woman is my sister.”
“You’re going to be my wife soon,” Yero replied. “I should be able to speak my mind.”
“Since when is your mind into denigrating women?”
Yero took my hand and massaged it. “Let’s not do this.”
But I couldn’t let it go. “I know you don’t like Asha but . . .”
