“Way to go, Leon!” I whispered as he sat down.
“Almost makes me feel guilty for the prank I’ve got planned—almost.” He grinned at me with a look of mystery. “What are you going to do?”
“Can’t tell you,” he whispered back. “That way, if you are captured by the enemy and the wig woman is beating you with her wig, you can’t be forced to tell details of our attack plans!”
“You’re nuts, Leon.” I smacked him on the back of his head.
“I’ve been trying to tell you that!” he said, crossing his eyes so he looked distorted. “Nobody believes me!”
Ms. Wiggersly continued with her reading of the names. “The invocation and benediction will be given by ...”
The entire senior class said in unison along with her, “B. J. Carson!”
B. J. waved his thanks to the class. “Bless you, my children,” he said, grinning.
Ms. Wiggersly cleared her throat. “It seems that one was a unanimous decision.” She could have smiled then, but she didn’t.
She read several more names—the flag bearers, the ushers, the introducers of the school board members who would attend. Ms. Wiggersly said finally, “The last two names are for our student commencement speakers. I am pleased to announce that our valedictorian this year is Nicole Kay-well.” She paused as the entire class stood to cheer for Nicole. Being first in the class was something to be celebrated—nobody else had worked that hard, or consistently made the high grades to get to that point. Nicole stood, pleased and blushing with pleasure at the recognition.
“And, as class president, our final speaker will be Miss Keisha Montgomery!”
Once again, everyone stood and applauded, but this time it was for me. I remained sitting, looking amazed. I couldn’t understand why they were cheering for me.
“We just want to show you that we all love you, Keisha,” Leon told me. “Stand up and wave or something!”
The class was now chanting, “Keisha! Keisha! Keisha!” with loud intensity. Ms. Wiggersly started to try to quiet them down. Then the boys started shouting, “Seniors! Seniors! Seniors!” and we all joined them as the bell rang. Ms. Wiggersly gave up. The senior class trooped out of the courtyard, shouting at the top of our lungs, “Seniors rule! Seniors rule! Seniors rule!” It was good to be back.
21
The rest of April was a whirlwind for me. The end of the school year seemed to be spinning by. Final school projects, the senior class weekend trip to New York, shopping for a prom dress—all of the activity kept my mind occupied and my thoughts focused on the present and the future. I tried not to linger on the past. I worked on my graduation speech a little each day, alternating between fear about giving it and confidence that I would say just the right thing.
I still went to my support group meetings every Saturday morning, so I liked feeling normal with my closest friends around me in the afternoon. The first Saturday in May was Rhonda’s birthday. I’d asked everybody to stop by my house that afternoon to celebrate it. I had bought a small cake at the bakery the day before and stopped to get some chocolate chunk ice cream, Rhonda’s favorite.
I glanced in the mirror as I combed my hair, trying to make it look as if I hadn’t been working at it for half an hour to get it just right. I put the brush down for a moment and looked at the girl I saw in the mirror. It had been weeks after the attack before I had been able to look at myself. At first, all I saw in the mirror was shame and fear, pain and dark memories. After a few meetings with my support group, I was able to see just Keisha—a girl with brown skin, brown eyes, brown hair—a girl that could blend into any background. That day, I looked in the mirror and I actually smiled. The face I saw had personality and spunk. My eyes, no longer sunken and depressed, sparkled with anticipation as I looked forward to the afternoon. My hair was not just plain old brown, but a rich auburn, streaked with reddish-brown highlights that showed up in bright sunlight.
I decided to wear a pair of white jeans that I’d bought on a recent shopping trip with Jalani and Rhonda, with a loose-fitting black sweater that I loved. On my neck I wore the silver butterfly necklace. I wore it always; it made me feel safe. I was just putting on a dash of lipstick when the doorbell rang.
Leon was the first to arrive. “What’s up, Sunshine?” he said.
“Not much sunshine today—the sky looks like steel wool! I’m glad we didn’t decide to do this in the park.”
“Springtime weather is so unpredictable,” Leon commented, “but I love the rain! I like the way it smells when it’s over—like grass and dirt.”
“There’s gotta be something wrong with a dude who likes to smell dirt!” I said wryly.
Gerald and Jalani pulled up into the driveway before I had a chance to close the door. Angel sat in the back seat, holding a wrapped gift. They had stopped by to pick up Monty, who sat next to her. The first drops of rain had started to fall just as they got out of the car. “It’s going to rain hard,” Gerald noted, checking out the ominously dark sky, “maybe even a thunderstorm.”
“This morning I heard the weather reporter say thunder and lightning for sure most of the day,” Jalani added.
“Well, I guess I bought her a dumb gift,” Monty said with a laugh.
“What did you get her?”
“A kite!”
“As long as she doesn’t try to fly it today, she’s OK,” Angel said as she came into the house. “Now we got her something awesome!”
“Whatcha got?” I asked.
“A music box!” Angel said with excitement. “Wait till you see it! It’s a little graduate that spins around and plays ‘Live Your Dreams.’”
“Wow, what a neat idea—classy,” I told her. “Did Gerald pick that out?”
“No way! Me and Jalani picked it out. Gerald wouldn’t even go inside the music box store.”
“You sayin’ I ain’t got no class?” Gerald asked.
“I’m just sayin’ that you would have picked out a rock and painted ‘Happy Birthday’ on it!” Angel teased.
“What’s wrong with that?” asked Leon, laughing. Gerald nodded in agreement.
The rain and the winds had increased. I switched on the lights in the living room, looking out the window for Rhonda and Tyrone. Monty didn’t like thunderstorms, and he stayed very close to me. I saw headlights round the corner, and Tyrone’s battered blue Ford rolled down the street and into the driveway. Rhonda and Joyelle ran screaming into the house with newspapers over their heads. Tyrone walked slowly behind them, trying to pretend he didn’t care that he was getting wet.
Joyelle was the loudest, as usual. “My hair! My hair!” she squealed as she looked at herself in the hall mirror. The humidity had swollen her hair to twice its size, and the curls she had so carefully done that morning had blown away with the wind. “I give up! I’m just going to shave it bald!”
“Good idea,” said Leon, laughing. “Why don’t you paint daisies on your head? You could change the design every day to match your outfit!”
“Yeah,” Gerald added, “a new fashion trend—all because Joyelle has puffball hair!”
She glared at both of them, then asked me, “Can I run upstairs and use your hair stuff? I gotta fix this!”
“Sure,” I replied. “Help yourself.” I walked over and gave Rhonda a hug. “Happy birthday, girl. In all this mess, I almost forgot why we’re here!”
“Did you remember the chocolate chunk ice cream?”
“For sure!”
“Then all is forgiven!” We both laughed, then jumped as a rolling clap of thunder filled the room and silenced everyone. The doorbell rang in that moment of silence.
I opened it and there stood B. J., slightly wet and slightly scared. “The thunder rolls and B. J. appears!” I said dramatically.
“What can I say?” B. J. said as he was almost pushed through the doorway by a gust of wind. “I hang with the Thunder Maker.”
Just as he said that, the lights in the house flickered and went out. “Watch
what you say,” I said, half serious and half joking.
“What do we do now?” Monty asked. He was the youngest, and I don’t think he wanted to look like a baby in front of the others.
“We’ll just sit here and wait till the power comes back on,” Tyrone told him. “We can pretend we’re on a campout.”
“Keisha, you got any candles?” Jalani asked.
“Just birthday candles,” I said. “My mom told me to get some last week when I went to the grocery store, but I forgot.”
Joyelle came down the stairs then, her hair brushed back and tamed for the time being with a couple of rubber bands. “Did I blow a fuse with the hair dryer and the curlers? I didn’t have time to finish my hair.”
“No, it was the storm. Come and sit down,” B. J. said, smiling at her. “You look great.”
“I do?”
“Sure.”
Joyelle looked at Angel, who gave her that knowing smile that best friends give each other when they know something is going on. B. J. pretended he didn’t notice.
The lightning flashed brightly once more, charging the air with light and electricity. The thunder followed almost immediately, rumbling and exploding with huge, frightening blasts.
Tyrone commented, “Thunder makes me nervous, and the only thing that can cure it is chocolate chunk ice cream!”
We all laughed. I said, “Tyrone is right. Let’s go ahead and eat. Jalani, help me cut the cake. Then I’ll get the ice cream.”
“You want me to help?” Angel asked.
“No, you stay there and guard Joyelle’s hair in case it escapes!” I laughed as me and Jalani went to the kitchen.
I lit eighteen candles and carried the cake into the living room, where they all waited, sprawled on the floor or the sofa. The soft golden glow of the candles flickered as I moved the cake carefully to the coffee table. I looked at the faces of my friends—Rhonda, happy and hopeful with Tyrone by her side. Jalani, dark, sleek, and sophisticated-looking, comfortably happy with Gerald, whose powerful shoulders offered protection to both Jalani and Angel. Angel, thin and delicate, but healthier now; and Joyelle, who found the joy she needed in the circle of friends around her. B. J., always the loner but never alone, keeping more than just a brotherly eye on Joyelle and her unruly hair; Monty, hungry for attention and friendship, thankful to be included; and Leon, who patiently offered me his strength.
The lightning crackled, the thunder roared, and their voices, small beneath the noise of the wind and storm outside sang:
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday, dear Rhonda,
Happy birthday to you!
Rhonda grinned with pleasure, thanked us all, and blew out the candles in one try. The faint smells of candle wax and smoke floated in the room for a moment, reminding us all of birthdays past, of childhood gone.
“Ice cream!” Monty demanded, breaking the spell. We all laughed and agreed. Monty grinned when he realized that not only was the ice cream chocolate chunk, but the cake was double chocolate chip. “Chocolate can cure anything,” Monty mumbled with his mouth full.
“Even thunderstorms?” B. J. asked.
“Makes them easier to take,” Monty answered. I think he felt a little better, even though the storm was still loud and forceful outside. We ate our cake and ice cream quietly, listening to the thunder, hoping that the magic of chocolate was real.
I looked at Leon and smiled, a feeling of peace surrounding me in spite of the noise outside.
“Can she open her gifts now?” Monty asked after his third helping of cake. “Mine first!” he insisted. Rhonda, pleased to be the center of attention, sat on the floor with a small pile of gifts in front of her. She glanced at me and smiled. She knew that this party was as much to help me get back to normal as it was to celebrate her birthday. She opened Monty’s gift, barely concealed in the thin plastic bag from K-Mart.
“Hey, a kite! Awesome! I haven’t had one of these since I was kid,” she said, giving Monty a hug.
“Can you fly a kite in a tornado?” Monty asked, watching the wind whip the trees outside.
“Probably not a good idea, kid,” Tyrone told him, “but it sure would be fun till you got blown away! Here, Rhonda,” he said, pushing a small box wrapped in newspaper toward her. “Open this one next.”
“Diamonds?” she asked, shaking the box.
“If it was, you just broke ’em, shaking them like that!” Tyrone answered. “Not that you’re not worth diamonds, but my budget wouldn’t stretch that far.”
“Your budget wouldn’t know a diamond if it tripped on one!” Gerald teased him.
“What’d you wrap it in newspaper for?” I asked, laughing.
“What is she going to do with the paper? Rip it, right? So why do I have to buy paper for her to tear up? I’d rather spend my money on what’s inside!”
As he predicted, Rhonda ripped the paper, and Tyrone gave me a look that said, See, I told you! Rhonda carefully opened the box. Inside was a small book entitled, Smart Quotes by Smart Women for Smart Women.
“I love it!” Rhonda exclaimed, as she flipped through the pages. “This is really cool, Tyrone!”
“Do I get a hug like Monty did?” he asked, grinning. She ran over and gave him a huge bear hug. She started to kiss him, but I think she thought better of it, and ran to sit back down.
Rhonda opened the rest of the gifts, delighted with them all. She loved the little music box from Angel and Gerald, and the blank journal I gave her. The last gift was from Leon. He had forgotten wrapping paper, so he ran upstairs to my bathroom and returned with it wrapped in toilet paper. He gave it to her as if he were presenting a gift from a king. I laughed so hard I almost fell off the sofa.
She opened it and inside were seventy-five packs of bubble gum in dozens of flavors. “Awesome!” Rhonda said, laughing. “This ought to keep me quiet for a year!” She gave everybody a pack of gum to try a flavor.
I said, “You know, graduation is next month, and we might not get another chance to be together like this, all in one place.”
“Sure we will—what about the parties?” Jalani offered.
“It’s not the same,” I insisted. “This is just us. We’ve been through an awful lot together.” Everyone was quiet, agreeing with me, thinking their own thoughts about the past.
Then Leon said, “And for sure we won’t get another chance to try to make the biggest bubble gum bubbles in the world!”
“Huh?” Joyelle asked.
“Can you chew a whole pack of bubble gum?” Leon asked excitedly.
“I bet I can,” Monty replied with confidence, stuffing four pieces into his mouth.
“The trick is to chew one, get it soft, then chew another and another,” suggested Gerald, who was also unwrapping a whole pack of gum.
We all started to giggle and stuff gum into our mouths.
Monty blew a giant cinnamon-red bubble. “Andy used to love bubble gum,” he said when it popped. “I’ll always remember Andy—the good stuff, not the bad stuff. One day I’ll be older than he was when he died. That’s weird.”
Joyelle could hardly talk because her cheeks were bulging with green apple gum. She laughed and then said quietly, “Life will never be the same without Robbie. But I love my new name and thinking about joy each time I say it. Now I just want to be happy, and have my hair look good three days in a row!” We all laughed.
Angel sat quietly for a moment, the lightning outside making her face flicker from bright to dark. “I think if we don’t get rid of the monsters and ghosts and bad stuff, they will eat up our guts. I think I like bubble gum better than gut-sucking ghosts. And I like dancing better than that. One day I’ll be a star, and no leftover monster is going to stop me!” Gerald hugged her so fiercely when he heard that he almost made her spit out her gum.
Gerald inhaled, then blew a bright yellow bubble that was bigger than his head. It popped and landed all over his face. Laughing and pulling th
e pieces off his face, he said, “All I’ve ever wanted was for Angel to be happy and safe,” he said. “I haven’t really thought much about me. But I like math, and I’m good with managing stuff, so I’m going to the University of Cincinnati and I’m majoring in bubble gum. If that won’t work, I guess I’ll major in business. That way, when Angel gets out of college, and she’s a star on Broadway, and she’s ready to open Angel’s School of Ballet, I’ll be there to run it for her. Till then, I’ll make a lot of money running other people’s businesses.” Angel beamed and blew a small pink bubble of her own.
Jalani laughed. “My jaws are tired!” She looked at all of them sitting there in the darkened room. “I feel as if I have known all of you all my life. At a time when I needed friendship—and new shoes—you brought me into your circle and made me one of you.” She paused, trying to hold back the tears. “It’s impossible to cry and blow a bubble at the same time,” she said, half laughing, half crying. “I have found a little sister in Angel, a mother in your mom, Keisha, and yours, too, Rhonda. And I have found someone,” she took a deep breath, “whose soul reaches out to mine.” Gerald reached out to touch her, but she blew a bubble in his face instead. Laughing, she picked up Monty, and put him on her lap She started to kiss him on his bubble-gum-puffed cheek.
“Hey, don’t be doin’ that. I don’t like no mushy stuff!” Monty laughed, wiggling out of her lap. “Besides, you got bubble gum on your lips!”
“You’re safe, Monty. I was just teasing Gerald,” Jalani said as they all laughed at Monty. “He knows how special he is to me.” She leaned over and kissed Gerald lightly on the lips.
B. J. announced, but not to anyone’s real surprise, “I got my letter of acceptance from Cookman Christian College yesterday. I’m going to be a preacher.”
“Well, duh!” Tyrone said. “We all knew that’s what you’d be before you did,” B. J. grinned sheepishly.
Tyrone glanced at Rhonda and said, “Well, as long as we’re announcing college stuff, I guess I told everybody that I got accepted to Florida A & M—in computer technology. Full scholarship if I play basketball. I can’t turn it down. I’m gonna miss all of you, but I don’t know how I’m gonna make it without Miss Foxy here.”