Chapter 14 - Jabali
Of course, Aziza and Zoriah wanted to have a sleepover. I got two surprises with that. Zahara said yes. She didn’t let Zoriah stay anywhere. The one big caveat was that she wanted me to stay, too. Surprise number two was that Kyleigh agreed.
“You sure?” I had asked.
She shrugged. “This house has seven bedrooms. It’s fine.”
And then, the girls swore they needed snacks. When two big pairs of brown eyes stared at you and one tremulous voice said, “Can you go to Dollar General, Daddy?”, you folded like a rickety lawn chair. Man, that “Daddy” did something to me. So, I drove my ass right back into town.
And here I was, at Dollar General, like a good little simp. I killed the engine, sat for a second, and checked my phone.
I had a text from Kyleigh:
They found another flamingo. They insist it goes in the front. I blame you.
I smirked.
Me:
Flamingo definitely goes up front. I want it to haunt you.
I was still grinning when I stepped out of the truck. That didn’t mean I was oblivious to my surroundings. And the conversation I heard as I approached the door had me repeatedly clenching my fists, then spreading my fingers.
“Ay, I’m just saying… whole year she been up on that hill acting like Batman, and now she in Bellarose’s like she ain’t the Grinch? Girl folded.”
The voice came from the left. Th barbershop two doors down had just let out a bunch of men. Three of them leaned against a car, talking too loud like clowns always did when they had an audience. One of them had a fresh line-up and more ego than brain.
Deon, of course. I walked a little faster than necessary.
“Nah, for real,” another one said. “David said you oughta see that tree. Big stupid-ass thing like she Ms. Christmas Spirit now. She ain’t slick. She trying to make y’all forget she was tryna shut down the hill.”
Deon laughed. “Facts. I said that. ‘Lil Miss Grindley Who Stole Christmas’ finally realized she can’t beat the town. Dude probably fucked her right, got her happy to be a citizen again.”
They laughed, then. I didn’t even realize I’d changed direction till I was walking straight at them.
“Who the fuck is ‘dude?’” I asked.
They shut up so fast it was funny.
Deon’s eyes widened. “Jay. What’s good, man?”
“Not this bullshit.”
He shifted. “We just talking shit, man. Relax. Merry Christmas and all that.”
I stepped in close enough to smell his cologne and cheap beer. “Run that last part back for me. The ‘folded’ thing.”
He licked his lips, looked at his friends like they could help. They could not, if they knew what was good for them.
“I mean… she came down. Got a tree. Letting people decorate the pines again. Town won. That’s all I’m saying,” he muttered.
“You know what I heard. I heard you a grown-ass man obsessed with a gate that don’t belong to you. Mad because that woman never belonged to you.”
One of the other dudes snorted, then swallowed it when I looked at him. Deon scowled at me.
“I’on want Kyleigh, man. That’s all you.
Always been you. What, I can’t have an opinion now?
Everybody got something to say about her.
She ain’t no victim. She left, came back, and been acting brand new ever since.
Now she smiling in folks’ faces ’cause you put your foot down? That’s all I’m saying. She sold out.”
I smiled. I was sure it didn’t reach my eyes.
“Come here,” I said.
He backed up half a step. “Nah, I’m good right here.”
Chuckling, I moved closer. “I wasn’t asking.”
I fisted a hand in the front of his hoodie and yanked him off the car. His back hit the side panel with a hollow thud. His friends jumped but didn’t move in. Good. I wasn’t in the mood to beat all they asses.
“Jabali, chill. We in front of the store,” Deon pleaded.
“Then speak like you in front of the store. Not like you in some group chat with people who don’t correct you.”
My voice was calm. My grip was not.
“Man, you extra. Over some jokes?” he complained.
My eyes bored into his. “Nothing about my child or her mama is a joke. And you keep saying ‘town won’ like y’all did something. Like you bullied her into it. You didn’t. I did.”
He blinked. “That’s not a flex, my boy.”
“Oh, it is,” I said. “Because here’s what you not understanding.
She could’ve kept that hill dark forever.
It’s hers. Her land. Her name on them papers.
The only reason them lights and trees going back up is ’cause she chose to let go of some shit that hurt her.
That’s growth on her part. What you doing is running your mouth outside Dollar General in some ashy slides, like you still in high school.
” I tightened my grip, pulled him a little closer.
“And if you say ‘she folded’ again like she weak?” I went on. “I’ma unfold you myself. We clear?”
His eyes bounced from my face to my hand to the tattoo on my wrist he remembered from high school, now sitting on a bigger forearm.
“You threatening me?” he asked, trying to look tough. The tremble in his voice belied his stance.
“Threats are what you say when you might not do it. I’m telling you what will happen. There’s a difference.”
His boy in the black beanie lifted his hands. “Jay, it ain’t even that serious. For real. We just talking. Folks been talking about her all year. You gon’ fight the whole town?” he asked.
“I don’t need to fight the whole town. Just the ones dumb enough to let my daughter hear them,” I corrected.
Deon shook his head. “Still weak over that b—”
My fist slammed into his mouth, cutting off the word. He’d been asking for an ass whooping for a long time, and it was taking everything in me not to give it to him now. He tried to swing back, but two swift punches had him reeling, then subdued. The group went quiet.
I leaned in closer to Deon as he cupped his mouth.
“There’s a nine-year-old little girl living on that hill now. My daughter. You let her hear you calling her mama names acting like she some villain? I swear on everything I love, I will turn this friendly little conversation into something so bad your mind will wipe it out.”
“A’ight, man, I get it. I’ll chill,” he mumbled.
Behind me, a horn honked twice.
“Ay!” a familiar voice yelled. “Jay! Why you over here doing interrogations in the Dollar General lot? It’s Christmas!”
I didn’t have to turn to know it was Braeden. That fool’s voice carried across state lines. I let Deon go but didn’t step back.
“We clear?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, we clear. Damn, boy. You heavy-handed now.”
Braeden pulled his Challenger into the next spot, music bumping old-school R&B Christmas like we were at a block party. He hopped out, grinning.
“You over here making threats by the plastic wreaths, my guy? In Jesus’s season?”
I shook my head. “Mind your business.”
“Nah, this is my business,” he said.
He clocked the three dudes, clocked Deon’s crooked hoodie, and put it together fast. “Ahhh. I bet… somebody stupid said something sideways about our hill princess and the gangsta Santa elf had to step in.”
Deon scoffed. “Nobody scared of you, B.”
“Cool,” Braeden said. “Be scared of him, then. Makes it easier when I slide yo’ ass.”
He came to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me, all loose posture and silly smile, but I knew the look in his eyes. If they swung, he’d swing right with me.
“Just for the record,” he went on, “anybody still calling her ‘the Grinch’ need to update their material. She out here putting lights up, shopping for ornaments, letting my niece on the hill. That’s progress.”
Beanie Guy held up his hands. “We heard. We straight. Dude already gave the TED Talk.”
Brae looked at me. “Good. Maybe he needed practice. He gon’ be giving this speech a lot.”
Deon looked between us. “Aight, can we go now?” he asked his friends. “Before y’all start quoting scripture, too?”
“Already did. Book of Don’t Get Your Ass Beat, chapter one,” Brae chuckled.
They piled into their car, still mumbling, but quieter now. As they pulled out, one of them stuck a hand out the window and gave a half-wave.
“Merry Christmas,” he yelled.
“Yeah, you, too,” I called back.
We watched them drive off. The cold air wrapped around us, smelling like their exhaust and the chicken joint a few doors down.
“You hood now?” Braeden asked.
“Yeah,” I lied.
He bumped my shoulder. “I get it, though. They say something about Ky or ZiZI, I’m on the same shit. I got your back. I’ll choke a caroler. I don’t care.”
I laughed, tension easing out of me. “You not choking no damn caroler.”
He shrugged. “I might trip ’em. Little seasonal violence.”
“Seasonal violence is insane,” I said.
“You good, though?” he asked, quieter. “For real.”
I thought about the tree in the foyer. The way Aziza had said our. The way Kyleigh had smiled at the star even though her hands were shaking.
“I’m getting there,” I said. “I just need this town to figure out they not a show.”
Braeden nodded. “Well, they about to find out. One parking lot sermon at a time.” He opened the door. “Come on, Gangsta Claus,” he said. “Let’s get what you need so you can get back on that hill.”