“Get out!” she yells.
The door fly open, and Carlos rush in. “She said leave!”
“Man, mind your goddamn business!”
“She is my business!”
“Carlos, stop,” Lisa says softly. “He’s not worth it.”
It hit like a gunshot. That’s the worst thing she ever said ’bout me.
Carlos eye me, and he smirk. He finally got what he wanted.
“You heard her,” he says. “Go.”
Lisa wipe tears from her cheeks. I wish I could wipe them away myself. More than that, I wish I could kick my own ass for making her cry.
Instead, I do what she asked. I leave.
Seven
Two days go by, and Lisa won’t talk to me.
Three days.
A week.
Two whole weeks, and I don’t exist to her.
This time different. Usually when Lisa mad, she hang up when I call. Nah, she done blocked my number. I went over one day, hoping she had cooled off. Her momma’s car was gone and so was Carlos’s. I heard the TV inside, and I know I caught a glimpse of Lisa in the window. No matter how many times I rang the doorbell she never answered.
This shit hurt, man. I’m talking listen-to-sad-R&B-songs-all-day kinda hurt. I done had my Boyz II Men CD on steady rotation. Lisa was my best friend. The one person who could always make me smile and who I wanted to make smile. Call me soft, I don’t care. The thought of not having her in my life almost too much to handle.
Ma claim I walk around looking like a sad puppy. I can tell she feel bad for me. All she say is, “You made your bed, now you gotta lie in it.”
If this a bed, it’s made outta rocks—everything hard. Iesha ain’t come and got our son yet. I talked to her twice, and both times she asked me to keep him a little longer. Never said how “long” that is.
In the meantime, Li’l Man got me beyond tired. He ain’t cheap neither. I have to buy diapers, wipes, and formula all the time, and my money looking real funny now that I’m out the game. Ma asked the light company for an extension so we could afford a changing table. She talking ’bout working on weekends at the hotel to keep things from being so tight. Dre also a big help. Some days he’ll come watch my son for like an hour so I can nap, and he buy clothes for him that I can’t afford.
I really hope this job with Mr. Wyatt help. Today gon’ be my first day of school and my first day of work. While I ain’t really looking forward to work, I ain’t been this excited for school since my elementary days. I’m finally getting out this house. On top of that, I get to be with my boys. I ain’t seen none of them these past two weeks. They probably busy, I’m not tripping. Not like I got time to hang out. I’ll only be with Rico and Junie today though. King got expelled from Garden High last year.
I should be resting up for my long day, but around 2:00 a.m. Li’l Man wake up, screaming his head off.
It scare the shit outta me. I check his diaper first, and it’s clean. He can’t be hungry, I fed him a little while ago. I run outta ideas real quick, so I take him to Ma’s room.
I’m surprised he didn’t wake her up. Then again, I think Ma could sleep through a bomb. Her bonnet stick out from under all of her blankets. She keep the air on high in the summer only to sleep under a bunch of covers.
I shake her shoulder. “Ma, wake up.”
“What, Maverick?” she mumbles.
“Li’l Man won’t stop crying.”
Ma pull back the covers and squint at us. My son cry and gnaw on his hand. Drool and tears run down his face.
“He’s teething,” she says.
“How you know?”
“Trust me, I know.” She touch his forehead. “He doesn’t have a fever. His gums are probably bothering him. Get him one of those teething rings I bought. He’ll calm down.”
“What if he don’t? I got school in the morning, Ma. I’m tryna sleep.”
The look she give me . . . man, she cuss me out with her eyes. “You should’ve thought of that before you had sex with that girl.” She turn her back to us.
“Ma—”
“Take care of your son, Maverick.”
Fine, then. I take him to my room and grab the teething ring.
“C’mon, man,” I mutter as I put it to his mouth. “Gnaw on it, okay? It’ll help you feel better.”
He cry around it. I sit on my bed and rock him. I talk in them hushed tones like Ma do and tell him it’s okay. Minutes and minutes and minutes pass, and that li’l brown face scrunched up with tears all over it, and that tiny mouth won’t stop wailing.
“Please, man?” My voice crack. I only wanna sleep. “I’m tired. Please, calm down.”
He cry louder.
“What’s wrong with you?” I cry. “Just take the teething ring!”
I shouldn’t snap, but I don’t know.
I don’t know.
I don’t know.
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
I can’t make him stop crying.
I can’t sleep.
I can’t do this.
I set him in his crib as he scream at the top of his li’l lungs, and I walk out the room.
To the hallway.
Then the living room.
And out the front door.
I stop at the porch. It’s so quiet and calm outside, unlike in my room. I sit on the steps, and I bury my face in my hands.
What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t get a teeny little baby to stop crying. Then I left him in there by himself when he need me the most.
He need so damn much. I don’t wanna be needed no more.
I’m tired. I wanna sleep. And now I’m sobbing like a baby as if I ain’t got a baby sobbing for me.
I don’t know how long I been sitting here when the front door squeak open.
Ma come up behind me, rubbing my shoulder.
I try to suck it up. “I’m sorry.”
“All parents have moments,” she says softly. “I got him settled and back to sleep. Go get some rest, baby.”
Somehow I’m still her baby.
I drag myself back to my room. It feel like I just got back in my bed and closed my eyes when it’s time for me to get up for school. My body ache, I’m so tired.
I check on Li’l Man in his crib. He sleep peacefully as he suck on his pacifier. I hope he don’t realize I walked out on him. I love him, I swear I do, but it’s a lot, man.
I lean in the crib and kiss his forehead. “I’m sorry.”
While he sleep, I iron my clothes: Girbaud jeans and a red Polo shirt to go with my white-on-white Reeboks. I’m gon’ have to throw a durag over my cornrows. Lisa would go in on me if she saw them all frizzy like this. Would say I better come to her house after school so she could redo them. I’d grin and tell her that’s what I hoped for.
I’m all twisted up over her.
Li’l Man still asleep, so I can go eat. I pour a bowl of cereal and watch a little TV. Maybe these Martin reruns will help wake me up. Ma stand in the living room doorway, rubbing cocoa butter on her arms. She never leave the house ashy.
“I know you’re probably exhausted, but you have to push through today, Maverick,” she says. “The first day of school sets the tone for the rest of the year.”