Black Beauty Read online

  Eight minutes.

  She sat back at the table and willed her hands to stop shaking. Stealing from a woman named Crazy Jade was stupid. But if she didn't want someone to take it, Jade shouldn't have left it on her bookshelf with a stranger in her house. The time ticked away while she tapped her nails on the table and thought about all the reasons why Jade didn't need the book anymore.

  Ten minutes. Ashley almost thought to wash it out, but Chantel had always left it in for twenty minutes. Naw, her hair was too nappy for only ten minutes, she decided. She needed at least fifteen minutes to get her roots straight. Where the hell was Crazy Jade, though? For $350 she shouldn't have to wash her own hair.

  After fifteen minutes; Ashley gave up on Jade and stepped into the kitchen. She had been in dozens of apartments growing up, but Vista Apartments had the smallest kitchen she'd ever seen. The sink stood directly across from the electric stove, and she could barely stand without bumping into the oven.

  She washed her hair using the gloves, shampoo and conditioner left on the counter next to the Dawn dishwashing liquid. As the warm water and shampoo cleansed her scalp, she ran her hands through her hair expecting to catch her fingers on a few stubborn tangles that usually remained after a blowout. But her fingers maneuvered seamlessly through her hair. Zero pain. "Wow, this is better than what I had before," Ashley said out loud, wishing there was someone in the room she could share her excitement with.

  After three washes, taking care to remove all the chemicals, she put a towel on her head and stood. Her breath caught in her throat. Wet black strands of hair filled the sink. She was hardly able to see the dull metal basin underneath.

  "Damn, I guess I shouldn't have left it in for so long."

  Ashley washed the stray hair down the drain before she ran to the bathroom mirror. She breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, there was still plenty of hair on her head. A few strands of fell out while she ran her hands through her hair, but that was normal. It happened every time she had a Brazilian blowout. This was just a bit more than usual.

  "What's going on?" Jade stood in the hallway.

  Ashley frowned, trying to cover up the fact she had been scared. "It took you long enough."

  "I've been gone for almost thirty minutes, are you just now washing that stuff out?"

  "No, I've been waiting for the past twenty minutes."

  "Then why is your hair still soaking wet?"

  Ashley rolled her eyes and shrugged. "I don't know."

  Jade looked like she was going to argue, so Ashley cut her off. "Are you going to blow dry my hair or not?"

  Ashley tried to walk out of the bathroom, but Jade grabbed her arm.

  "How long did you leave it in?" Jade asked sternly.

  "Fifteen minutes," Ashley said, shaking away Jade's hand.

  "I told you ten."

  "You should have come back earlier. What were you doing anyway?"

  "Saving an old lady's life," Jade said.

  "I paid you to do my hair. I shouldn't have to wash it myself."

  Jade lifted an eyebrow. "Because your hair is more important than someone's life?"

  "No, it's not, but I paid you," Ashley said embarrassment replacing anger. "Besides, what harm can an extra five minutes do anyway?"

  "Nothing. I hope," she said sarcastically. "Come on, you paid me to do your hair. Let's get it done."

  Forty minutes later, when her hair was properly blow-dried and flat-ironed, Ashley paid Jade and left the stuffy apartment. The wind had died down, and only a slight breeze remained. It jostled her hair, and the light prickling on her neck made her smile. Her hair had never been so weightless that it moved and then effortlessly settled back in place.

  "Hey, Ashley. Where are you coming from?"

  Ashley turned to see Sean, the young cutie who lived in the apartments. She had dated his best friend's brother before she met Ebony's father. "What's up, Sean?" she asked.

  "You do something different to your hair?" he asked.

  "Jade straightened it for me," she said, patting her hair.

  "You know she's crazy, right? You shouldn't be messing with her."

  "You think she's a voodoo priestess, too?" Ashley laughed. "Sean, you're too smart to believe in that kind of stuff."

  "Voodoo is a religion rooted in the worship of ancestors, and Jade does not worship her ancestors. She's evil, and you need to stay away from her."

  Ashley rolled her eyes. "You is crazy. She's not the devil, and she's not evil." She thought about the book she'd stolen, and its cryptic writing. Maybe he knew something about the book. But she couldn't ask him about it without admitting she stole it. "I'm grown. I don't need you watching out for me."

  "Just be careful," he said.

  He looked genuinely concerned, and Ashley softened. "Why are you so worried?"

  Sean took a deep breath and looked back towards Jade's apartment. "Nothing," he said. "Just be careful. If you don't have to mess with her, don't."

  She patted his arm to reassure him. "I'll leave her alone. I promise." She got what she needed anyway. And if she could figure out what language the book was written in, she could make her own blowout.

  Ebony slept snuggled in the nook of her grandmother's arms. They both Cora and Ebony slept with downturned lips that made it seem like they were both having bad dreams.

  Cora's eyes flashed opened. "Girl, what the hell are you doing?" She said through gritted teeth, keeping her voice so Ebony wouldn't. "You scared the hell out of me."

  "Sorry," Ashley said. "You guys looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake you."

  Cora answered with a grunt and carefully sat up. The child whined with sleepy annoyance and clung to Cora tighter.

  "Sweetie, you ready to go?" Ashley asked, bending down and lifting Ebony into her arms.

  Ebony mumbled a 'no', but she never opened her eyes.

  Cora went to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of water, and took a long drink. "Your hair looks good."

  "You think?" Ashley shifted Ebony in her arms.

  "It looks damn good." Cora put her cup on the kitchen cabinet and ran her hands through Ashley's hair. "It has White Girl Flow. Damn. I can't believe how smooth it feels. I told you Crazy Jade knows her stuff."

  "Yeah, she did a good job. She charged a lot, though."

  "She ain't cheap." Cora brought her hands to her mouth and gasped. "Baby, your nose is bleeding."

  "What?" Ashley put Ebony back on the couch and touched her nose. Her hand came away covered in blood.

  Cora passed her a napkin, and with trembling hands, Ashley tried to stop the blood.

  "You need to sit down and lean your head back," Cora said with a concerned, commanding voice. Ashley couldn't help but be touched by her mother's rare show of worry.

  "No, no," Ashley pulled the napkin from her nose. "It stopped. See." She was relieved to see her wishful thinking had been the truth. The napkin was soaked, but no more blood flowed.

  "Since when you do get nose bleeds?" Cora's question was filled with fear and suspicion.

  "I think it's just the heat," Ashley said. "Jade's apartment was hot, and she had the door opened the entire time."

  Cora sucked her teeth and narrowed her eyes, but before she could ask another question, Ebony woke up.

  "Hi, Mommy," she said getting up from the couch and reaching for Ashley. "Oooh," Ebony said after Ashley picked her up. "Look at your hair. It's so beautiful, Momma."

  Ashley smiled, trying to forget about Sean's warning and her bloody nose. "Thank you, baby. You ready to go home and see your daddy?"

  "Yeah." Ebony yawned, resting her head on her mother's shoulder while affectionately running her fingers through Ashley's straightened hair.

  When they finally made it home, Ashley covered her hair with a do-rag and a plastic shopping bag, before she took a short shower. Afterwards, she put Ebony in the bathtub. As her daughter played with the bubbles and her water toys, Ashley stared in the mirror and experimented with different ha
irstyles. It looked best when it was down and flowing. But she could pull off bangs, ponytails, and buns on the days she wanted a change.

  When Ebony started complaining about her skin turning gray and getting wrinkled, Ashley forced herself away from the mirror, lifted Ebony out of the tub, and dressed her in a pair of Teletubbies pajamas.

  Steven, Ebony's dad, was due home in an hour, and she wanted everything to be perfect. She sat the child at the kitchen table surrounded by three teddy bears, a white Malibu Barbie, and a coloring book. While she colored, Ebony asked the toys about their day. She mimicked different voices for each toy. Cora said that was a sign Ebony needed a little brother or sister, but Ashley wasn't having any more kids if she had her way. One kid was enough. She hadn't had any brothers or sisters and she turned out just fine.

  "Momma, what are we having for dinner?" Ebony scribbled with a blue crayon over Cookie Monster's face.

  "We are having fried pork chops, macaroni, and green beans." Ashley reached into the top cabinet and grabbed a box of macaroni and cheese, opened it, placed the sauce package on the countertop, and poured the pasta into a boiling pot of water. "It's your daddy's favorite meal," she said, more to herself than Ebony.

  Jodeci's "Forever My Lady" played on the cassette player. She and Steven had slow danced to this song the first time they met while at a house party. She bobbed her head and swayed her shoulders to the beat while she stirred away the clumps out of the macaroni. The air smelled of fried pork chops and black cherry incense from the air freshener plugged into the wall.

  Ashley poked a fork in the last two chops frying in the grease. They were white all the way through, so she took them out of the pan and placed them on a napkin to catch the oil. As she stirred the macaroni to the beat of the song, something red dropped into the water. Before she could bring her hands to her nose, a steady stream of blood fell into the pot, turning the water and the macaroni pink.

  She took her hand away from her nose, hoping the blood had stopped, but it still gushed like a waterfall. The flow created a pool of blood in the palm of her hand. She reached for a dish towel, but a sharp pain shot through her head. The feeling was so intense it took her breath away and made her knees buckle. She grabbed the counter to stop her fall while fireworks danced behind her eyelids. When she opened her eyes, she saw streaks of blood on the counter, but vibrant lights were still playing havoc with her sight.

  She tried to call out to Ebony, but no sound escaped her lips. Jodeci singing about getting to know her suddenly felt like the theme song for her death. "Ebony," she managed to say, just as another explosion of pain sent her to the floor, turning everything into nothing.

  ANDRE

  Hair is the first thing. And teeth the second. Hair and teeth. A man got those two things he's got it all. - James Brown

  Andre picked his high-top fade three times before he patted it down, making sure the top was good and flat.

  He put the black hair pick on the back of the bathroom counter and studied his reflection. Smudges of toothpaste and specks of brown hair gel were splattered on the mirror. He hurriedly wiped the stains with a wet piece of tissue, threw the paper into the toilet and looked in the mirror again.

  Andre bit his lip and nodded. His hair looked damn good.

  He stared at his black basketball shorts and his freshly starched white t-shirt. Last night, he'd spent thirty minutes ironing and starching the shirt while he watched music videos on BET in the living room.

  His clothes looked damn good.

  He peered in the mirror again to makes sure there were no crust in the creases of his eyelids and no boogers in his nose.

  He blew his breath into his hand. It smelled good and minty.

  "Get out of the bathroom, Andre!" His brother screamed.

  "I just got in here." Andre shouted in return.

  "You been in there for thirty minutes. Hurry the hell up."

  "I just got in here!" he said absently, while he stared in the mirror and patted the top of his box.

  "Hurry up!"

  "Damn." Andre stepped over his dirty pajamas and opened the bathroom door.

  Malik, Andre's older brother, stood on the other side. "You gonna make me late for work."

  "You got a job. You need to move out," Andre said.

  Malik took his hands and pressed down on Andre's hair. "I ain't going nowhere. I'm going to stay here to mess with you for the rest of your life."

  "I hate you," Andre said, ducking and trying to get away to protect his hair.

  "Whatever." Malik laughed and slammed the bathroom door.

  Andre bucked up to the closed door for one last show of dominance before he walked into the living room.

  Koko and Kali, his two little sisters, were sitting in front of the television watching cartoons and eating cereal. They giggled as two lab rats planned to take over the world. While they laughed, large drops of milk and cereal fell out of their mouths and onto the carpet.

  "Where is Momma? She's gonna get y'all for eating in the front room." Andre imagined the bugs that would pounce on the area once the girls were gone and the lights were out.

  "She went to see Uncle Teddy. And you need to mind your own business," said Koko or Kali, Andre couldn't tell them apart most days.

  They were born eleven months apart. One was seven, and the other eight, but they had the same brown skin tone, and they were almost the same height. To make it worse, their mother dressed them alike and did their hair exactly the same. Since he couldn't tell them apart, he just called them the worsesome twins.

  "I would come over there and whoop yo' ass, but I ain't got time for y'all." Neither he nor Sam had been allowed to eat in the front room when they were their age.

  Deciding to ignore them, he went to the kitchen to make a bowl of cereal. He took the box of Rice Krispies from the counter, opened the fridge, and his heart sank. "Y'all drunk all the milk!" he yelled.

  The girls replied with more giggling and probably more food falling onto the floor.

  "Ugh. I don't even know why Momma had to go and have any more kids. Damn brats."

  "I'm telling Momma you cussed," both Koko and Kali shouted.

  Stomach growling, he searched the fridge for more food, but he knew it was useless. It was the end of the month and it would be two more days until they got more food stamps. Until then, he was straight out of luck. He slammed the refrigerator closed. The force sent glass jars of miracle whip, grape jelly, and salad dressing rattling against each other.

  "Ooh... I'm telling Momma you broke the icebox!" one of them shouted.

  "Shut up!" Andre walked to the living room. It smelled of clothes detergent and dryer sheets. His mother had washed last week's laundry two days ago. The clothes were never folded, so they were piled on the couch. He'd hidden his basketball in the mess of clothes, towels, and underwear so his sisters wouldn't find it. He dug through the clothes, grabbed his ball, and left the apartment.

  It was only eleven o'clock and the heat hadn't picked up yet. He needed to get to the court before all the other wanna-be ballers came out, but damn. He knew from experience he couldn't kick ass without eating. Andre sighed and surveyed Vista Apartments. He had homies all through here, but most of them had empty fridges at the end of the month too. Sean was the only person he knew with parents that were not on food stamps or weren't just flat broke. But every time Andre stepped into their house, Mr. Accra, Sean's dad, looked at Andre like he had crap on his face.

  He sprinted towards the parking lot, and a smile crept across his face. Mr. Accra's tan Toyota Camry was nowhere in sight. That meant his evil ass was gone. Good.

  He walked the few feet to Sean's apartment and knocked.

  "Why you knocking on my door like the police?" Sean wiped the sleep from his eyes. He wore baggy, red boxers and no shirt. He was a few shades lighter than Andre with small eyes like the super model Tyson Bedford, and all the damn girls loved him for it.

  Andre shoved past Sean. "Wake up. It's almost elev
en."

  Sean's apartment was not meant for the living. All of their furniture was white and wrapped in plastic. There were no specks of dust on the furniture or bookshelves. There were no clothes out of place. Mr. Accra was a male nurse, and their apartment always felt like a sterile hospital.

  "It's Saturday," Sean said as if that was an excuse to still be in bed.

  "What you got to eat?" Andre placed his basketball near the front door before he went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

  "I don't know. Take what you want. I'm going to get dressed."

  While Sean disappeared into the back of the apartment, Andre dug through the fridge. Jackpot! He pulled out eggs, bread, and the butter and put them on the counter next to the stove. "You want a fried egg sandwich?" he shouted.

  "Hell naw!" Sean screamed from the back.

  "Whatever." Andre rummaged through the cabinets until he found a frying pan.

  Just as Andre sat at the kitchen table with his finished sandwich and a glass of water, Sean returned smelling of toothpaste and Irish Spring soap. He sat across from Andre at the dining room table. He had changed out of his boxer shorts and into a pair of black jeans with no crease down the middle and a wrinkled black t-shirt. How he got so much attention from the girls, Andre had no idea.

  "Your dad at work?" Andre asked.

  "Yeah. You already know."

  "I heard your two girlfriends got into it yesterday." Andre bit into his sandwich. The yolk, salty and delicious, burst into his mouth.

  Sean rolled his eyes and leaned back. "Don't remind me. That was crazy."

  Andre laughed and a piece of egg shot across the table. "Man, you got the finest light-skinned girl in the school and you messing it up for Shemeya."

  "It ain't like that. Besides. Shemeya is fine. You just think every girl got to be white or light-skinned."

  "Anyway, can I ask Latreece out now?" Andre asked in between a bite of his sandwich.

  "Hell no," he sneered. "We haven't broke up. She'll calm down in a few days."