—Solo? You even listening?
—What?
—I’m pulling into Jazz’s Bakery. Get two sliced loaves. If you want a currants roll or piece of pone buy for yourself. I don’t want and Mr. Chetan shouldn’t be eating all that sugar.
Inside Jazz’s the place was packed like free bread was sharing. Pushing. Shoving. All this to get cake and bread for the weekend. Height was an advantage. I could see the woman serving near me. Cuteness for days. From the tight, low-cut jersey she had on she knows she’s hot. I stretched my hand clear above the head of the lady in front and touched her shoulder. If you see the sweet eye I get.
As I got close to the car Mammy leaned out the window.
—They had the bread?
—Yup.
I slammed the car door.
—While you were in there I was thinking. Maybe she wouldn’t mind if Dev left. After all the hullabaloo the main thing is she’s not happy and he’s not happy. They would both be better off in the long run.
Have mercy. Mammy was still on this. I twisted my body so I was staring out of the window with my back turned as much as the seat belt allowed. Take the hint nah. Stop this foolishness and stop including me in it. I wanted my normal, steady mammy instead of this crazy bitch she’s become. Mammy and I used to do everything together. We went to the grocery together. We went to the movies together. It was us two and sometimes Mr. Chetan. Now she and Dev go for drives alone and they don’t ask me if I want to come too. When they’re liming on the porch together they don’t say I can’t rock in the hammock but I get the vibes. Three’s a crowd. And I hate to see them holding hands and Mammy laughing at every dumb-ass thing he says. They even went Tobago for a long weekend. Mr. Chetan and I had a good time at home but imagine leaving me to go away with him? If a year ago someone said this would happen I would’ve laughed in their face. But now?
—I’m telling you. If that woman have something to say she better have the guts to say it to my face. All she good for is to talk behind people back. But she don’t frighten me. She thinks I don’t know anything. Well, I know a few things. Matthew, chapter seven, verse three. Before looking at the mote in thy brother’s eye, think about the beam in thine own. God is love.
As we turned into our street I saw Dev was waiting. No hiding that bright red truck parked up in front our house. I don’t want to see him. Mammy’s gone from angry to skinning her teeth from one ear to the next.
—Why is he here again? Like he forgot where he living? If nobody’s home, he should go.
—Shut up, Solo.
—So boldface. And he’s not even waiting in the truck. Why he feel he can open the gate and park his ugly backside on our porch?
—I said shut up. Shut up, you stupid child.
Well, that got me vex. She yelling at me over he?
—I’m fed up of him. His wife’s not missing him?
—Stop talking like that.
—No. Why should I stop?
—Why are you being so rude? I can’t have a friend pass by me without you carrying on?
Dev opened the gates so Mammy could pull into the parking space under the house. Opening our gate like he’s living here. This is my house. He should fuck off. We were hardly out the car and Mammy was apologizing in a stupid voice that we weren’t home earlier because we went for bread. He feel because he have money he could come here whenever he catch a vaps?
—Solo, say good afternoon to Uncle Dev.
—Yo, Dev.
—Is Uncle Dev to you.
He took the bags of bread from Mammy and the two of them kissed on the mouth right there as if I’m invisible. I heard Mammy telling him she loved the tight jersey he had on as it showed off his six-pack. Is true the man buff but why they have to carry on so for? Suddenly, like Mammy remembered I was there too.
—Solo, you didn’t say good afternoon properly to Uncle Dev.
—He’s not my fucking uncle.
Screw them. I grabbed my backpack and lunch box, ran straight past them and up the stairs. They can wait till thy kingdom come. Uncle, my ass. Mammy’s apologizing. They must be upstairs in the living room. I heard her saying, oh, she can’t understand what happened to me recently. Seems I used to be a good child and now I am a bad-tempered teenager. Yeah right. If you ask me she’s the one who has turned into a wormy, rotten guava.
I slammed my bedroom door hard enough for them to know that I’d heard everything. Enough bull. Not now. Not ever. Mammy should be cussing him for saying that. Instead he’s probably eating with us and then staying for dessert in the bedroom. Disgusting. From now on while he’s here I’m not coming out my room. If Mammy thinks I’m sitting at the same table with that asshole she had better think again. Her choice. If she makes a scene I will make a scene right back. I. Don’t. Care. If he doesn’t like it he can jump in his stupid truck and go home. Nothing’s stopping him.
One loud knock and my door opened. I should have locked the effing thing. Dev walked in boldface boldface with a big plastic bag from Sports World.
—I bought something for you.
I couldn’t look at him.
—The man in Sports World said all the young fellas wearing these sneakers. It should fit. Your mammy texted me your size. I kept the bill in case it’s too small for your foot.
Without raising my head I could see his jeans and the bag. He stood there like he was waiting for me to say thanks. I didn’t say boo.
—Okay, I’m leaving it right here. Try it on and let me know if the size good. Like I said, I have the bill so we could always carry it back and get a next size.
He left closing the door soft soft and I could hear them outside. Mammy was saying thanks for the sneakers.
—You’re spoiling Solo.
—That is a small thing.
—What he say?
—Nothing.
—He didn’t say thanks?
—Leave him alone. Boys that age can act funny.
I didn’t know exactly what was happening but I heard whispering and then Mammy laughing loud loud.
—Dev, stop that. The neighbors can see you.
The two of them are just nasty. Imagine in front of me and Mr. Chetan her hand does be on his leg right near his pants crotch. And he’s not backward. I’ve seen him putting his hand all up inside her top. Yuck. Carrying on like that. Disgusting.
I opened the Sports World bag to find a shoe box. Size 8. White Nike sneakers. Real expensive only they are never going on my foot. Full stop. I wanted to fling them straight at his blasted head. You know what Dev gone and done? He gave me the exact same sneakers he’d bought for Brains and Brains’s little brother. I don’t want to look anything like them. When fellas at school see the three of us in identical shoes they going to laugh their belly full. Trust me.