Way Too Much Drama Read online

  “What was she like?” I asked.

  “Her hair was as white as snow and her skin was brown and felt like Jell-O, all squishy. She couldn’t stand up straight, so whenever I said anything to her, I had to squat down so she could see me. She had arthritis in her hands and feet, but I think she had it in her back, too. She tried to lay down some rules, but that didn’t work. I came and went as I pleased. Then, when the winter set in and it turned cold outside, I hung around inside with her. That’s when the situation got really strange. She started forgetting the simplest things. Like she’d ask me to pour her a drink of water and when I’d bring it to her, she’d say that she didn’t ask for it.”

  “It sounds like she had Alzheimer’s disease,” I interjected.

  “She did. I found that out when I answered her phone and spoke to a nurse at the medical clinic she went to.”

  “What did they say?” I asked, completely intrigued by the story she was sharing with me.

  “They actually knew who I was. They said that she’d sent for me to come live with her to help take care of her. That, of course, was news to me because the last thing I wanted to do was take care of an old person.”

  “Maybe your mom gave the judge your aunt Ola Lee’s information thinking the exchange would benefit both of you. You needed a place to stay, and she needed someone in the house with her.”

  “If that’s what my mom called a benefit, I would have rather stayed on the street.” LaShaunda looked out the window again and so did I. We were now out of the suburbs and passing through a dilapidated city neighborhood. The structures were old and worn-out looking. There were abandoned buildings and there was trash blowing everywhere.

  “So what happened to Ola Lee?” I asked, bringing my thoughts back to the story she had been telling me.

  “What do you think?” LaShaunda asked defensively.

  “She died, didn’t she?”

  “Yep. It happened last winter, in January. On one of the coldest nights in the city. I remember because her apartment was drafty and the landlord didn’t like to send up heat. I had to turn on the oven to keep the place warm. That was one night when I didn’t mind sleeping with her. Having a warm body in the bed had its benefits. I drifted off to sleep and awoke during the night to use the bathroom. When I got back in bed, my foot brushed against hers and I said, ‘Miss Ola, do you want me to get you some socks for your feet?’

  “She said, ‘Yeah. My feet and head are cold. The Lord is on his way to get me. Might as well have some socks on my feet when I see Him.’”

  “Why did she say that?” I asked.

  “She said that every night. It drove me crazy. She also slept with the Bible under her pillow. She said, ‘I have my weapon, in case the devil tries to snatch me.’ Anyway, I got up, went to her dresser drawer and got a pair of socks for her. ‘Put them on my feet for me and get my shoes, I’m getting ready to go,’ she said. I put the socks on her feet, but didn’t get her shoes. I knew she wasn’t going anywhere.”

  “The Alzheimer’s again?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Once I put her socks on, I crawled in bed, turned my back to her and went to sleep. Later that night I opened my eyes and sat up in bed. I noticed that Ola Lee wasn’t covered up.

  “‘You’re going to get cold again if you keep kicking the blankets off,’ I said. I reached over to cover her up and when my hand touched her skin, she felt stiff, like a plank. I poked her and she didn’t move. When I realized that she was dead, I freaked out. I ran out into the hallway and knocked on her neighbor’s door.”

  “Dang, that’s messed up,” I said, feeling sorry for her.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “So what did you do after that? Did she leave you any money?” I asked. LaShaunda glared at me coyly.

  “No. She was dirt-poor. She didn’t even have burial insurance. The Department of Family Services got involved and, the next thing I knew, I was transferred to a foster home with some of the worst people I’ve ever met.”

  “So do you live with foster parents now?” I asked.

  “Yeah, and I hate those bastards, but I don’t want to talk about them right now. I just want to hang out and have a good time.”

  “And make some money, right?” I asked with a smile.

  “Damn right,” she said.

  eleven

  MAYA

  It was late in the morning, and I had been in my bedroom mindlessly surfing the internet. I read postings on Tumblr, Facebook and Twitter. Then I watched video clips from some of my favorite reality shows before I decided to waste time playing Bejeweled online.

  I began to think about how perfect my relationship with Misalo was before Viviana moved in and ruined my happiness. My life seemed so different and incomplete without him. I missed the attention he gave me, our phone conversations and the great times we had shared together. It was the little things that I loved most about Misalo. Like when he’d tuck my hair behind my ear for me, the way he smiled at me and how affectionate he was. I missed holding his hand, kissing him and even the scent of him. I had to force myself to not call him, although a part of me really wanted to, but another part of me said to let him go. That was the hard part. Letting go of the guy I was deeply in love with. I felt a headache surfacing so I went into the bathroom and grabbed some aspirin. Once I took the aspirin, I laid down on my bed and drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  Minutes later I awoke to the sound of my cell phone ringing. It was on my nightstand and I noticed that it was Keysha calling. I didn’t bother answering it because I did not feel like talking. Once the phone stopped ringing, I turned over and tried to drift back off to sleep. I figured Keysha had called to give me an update on how her romantic day at the music festival with Wesley was going. Romance was the last thing I wanted to hear about at that particular time. A few seconds later my phone rang again. “Leave me alone,” I said aloud as I curled each end of my pillow up to my ears to drown out the sound. When it stopped, I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

  Two hours later, I had been forced to get up because Grandmother Esmeralda was shaking my shoulder.

  “Wake up, Maya,” I heard her say as I slowly drifted back to an alert state of mind.

  “What?” I asked groggily.

  “Wake up, honey,” I heard her insist. I stopped fighting the temptation to drift back to sleep and repositioned myself on the bed.

  “Why are you waking me up, Grandma?” I asked.

  “I went to Anna’s fashion show and decided to come by to see the rest of my grandchildren. I have to make sure that everyone in the family is happy.” Happy? Was she serious? I thought to myself.

  “Where is Viviana?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I answered.

  “She did not tell you where she was going?” Grandmother Esmeralda seemed concerned.

  “I don’t keep up with her. She was here earlier and left with a friend. That’s all I know,” I said. Grandmother Esmeralda’s smile turned into a straight line. At that moment my phone rang again. I got up to retrieve it from my dresser.

  “I’m going to ask Paul if he knows where she is,” said Grandmother Esmeralda. She gave me a troubled glance as I watched her exit my room. By the time she was gone, the phone had stopped ringing. My mouth felt dry and I needed to brush my teeth. I decided to do that first before calling Keysha back. I was in the middle of brushing when I heard my phone buzz twice, indicating that I had just received a text message. I walked out of the bathroom with my toothbrush still in my mouth and grabbed my phone. I put in my secret code to retrieve the message.

  Where are you? I really need to talk, said the text message from Keysha. I also noticed that she’d called me several times during my nap. I finished up, went back into my room and called.

  “Hey,” I said when Keysha picked u
p the phone after only one ring.

  “Where have you been?” She was unquestionably irritated by my lack of availability.

  “I was asleep,” I said, looking in the mirror and combing my fingers through my hair. “What’s up? How did your date with Wesley go?” I asked, dreading the idea of listening to her romantic outing. But, since I was her best friend, I knew that if I had not asked, she would have had an attitude.

  “My date with Wesley sucked,” Keysha said.

  “What?” I stopped fiddling with my hair and listened.

  “It was a nightmare, Maya,” Keysha continued.

  “I’ll be right over,” I said. Judging by the tone of her voice, I realized that what she had to tell me should be done face-to-face.

  “I’m not at home. I’m in an emergency room.”

  “What! Oh, my God. What hospital? What happened? Are you okay?” I said, sitting down on the edge of my bed. At that moment I felt horrible for not taking her earlier calls.

  “I’ll be fine. I’m at Northwestern Hospital. It’s a long story.” Keysha sighed depressingly.

  “Start from the beginning,” I said and turned up the volume on my phone.

  “Everything was going fine. Wesley picked me up and we drove downtown. He parked the car at a self-park facility near State Street by the Chicago Theater. Before heading over to the music fest, I told him that I wanted to walk down State Street toward Old Navy. Wesley didn’t have a problem with it. We stopped in, and I picked up a pair of jeans and a top. I even bought a shirt for Wesley.”

  “That was nice of you,” I said.

  “It didn’t cost much. The shirt was on clearance. We left Old Navy and headed over to the music fest in Grant Park. As we got closer, the sidewalks began to get jam-packed with people. At times the crowd was so thick, I could barely move. It felt creepy feeling strangers’ sweaty skin on my own. Wesley suggested that we head toward Buckingham Fountain because it appeared to be less crowded, and we could get closer to the stage. I really didn’t care about being close to the stage. I was just happy to be there with him. When we got near Buckingham Fountain, it was only slightly less crowded. We both complained about the heat so I told Wesley to head over to a nearby concession stand to get bottled water.

  “He agreed to do that, and I watched as he mingled in with the throngs of people. As I waited, I decided to people watch as a way to kill time. That’s when I saw Viviana.”

  “Wait, what? Viviana was at the music fest?” I wanted to be certain that I’d heard Keysha correctly.

  “Yeah, I actually took out my cell phone and snapped a few photos of her just to make sure. She didn’t see me though.”

  “Was she there with another girl?” I asked.

  “Yeah, she was. Some big girl I’d never seen before. But then it got weird. I saw Viviana do something that I didn’t believe she could do.”

  “Keysha, spare me the Viviana details. I couldn’t care less about her,” I said.

  “I shot a video clip of Viviana and...”

  I interrupted her. “Keysha get on with the story. I don’t want to hear about Viviana and her new friend who looks like a grizzly bear.”

  “Okay. As I put my cell phone back in my purse someone shoved me really hard, causing me to nearly fall to the ground.”

  “Who was it?” I asked, wondering who would do such a rude thing.

  “Maya, I tell you. My heart nearly stopped when I saw who it was.”

  “Who?” I asked again.

  “It was Toya Taylor,” Keysha said.

  “Toya Taylor.” I paused trying to recall exactly who Toya was to Keysha. “Isn’t she the girl who went shoplifting and got caught?” I asked, vaguely recalling Keysha telling me the story.

  “Yes. And she looked bad,” Keysha said.

  “What do you mean by bad?” I asked for clarification.

  “She looked rough. Like the women I see on those prison reality shows. Toya had a scar that had turned into a hideous-looking keloid. It extended downward from her right earlobe to her shoulder.”

  “Ewww,” I said.

  “That’s what I was thinking, and I guess my facial expression showed it,” Keysha explained.

  “Well, what did she want?” I asked.

  “Maya, she wanted to fight,” Keysha said.

  “What?” I spoke aloud.

  “She had been holding a pathetic grudge against me ever since I found out who my father was and moved out of my old neighborhood. The last time I had any dealings with her was when she stole my father’s Trans Am from my idiot brother, Mike.”

  “Wait a minute. How did Mike know Toya?” I asked, totally confused.

  “That’s a story for another day. Dealing with Toya was a hard lesson learned for Mike,” Keysha said.

  “So did you fight her?” I asked.

  “Yes. I had to defend myself. She was with another girl and two guys. Toya taunted me. She griped about how I thought I was better than her ever since I learned who my biological father was and had moved to the suburbs. She told me how she had hoped she would run into me one day so that she could settle an old score. I tried to defuse the situation. I backed away from Toya, but her female friend had maneuvered behind me and shoved me into Toya. She looked at me with utter disgust. I told her that I didn’t want any drama with her, but Toya had her mind set on fighting. The next thing I knew, Toya grabbed a fist full of my hair and slung me to the ground. I scraped up my hands and knees, but got right back up and lunged toward her. I was able to grab her hair and yank her fake ponytail off. Then the other girl and one of the guys grabbed and held on to me while Toya beat on me.”

  “Oh, my God, Keysha. This all happened in broad daylight, while there were so many people around?” I asked.

  “Yeah. The time of day doesn’t matter. When I lived with my mom, some of the most brazen acts took place in the middle of the day. Maya, people stood there and watched. No one was going to help. People don’t like getting involved.”

  “What about the police? Weren’t they around?” I asked.

  “They were everywhere, but it was crowded and by the time the message would have reached them, the damage would have been done, and Toya and her goons would have disappeared into the crowd.”

  “Dang, Keysha. How badly did they beat you up?” I asked.

  “Nowhere near as badly as Wesley. He had come back to help. He had wrestled the guy who was holding my arm. The boy was shorter and stockier than him. Everything happened so fast, Maya. Toya and I were fighting, and then I heard a loud hollow thud. Toya’s male friends shouted for them to run and that’s when I noticed Wesley lying facedown on the ground. The guy Wesley was fighting with slammed his head against the ground I think, and the blow knocked Wesley unconscious. I squatted down and rested on my knees. I turned Wesley over and placed his head in my lap.

  “Was he okay?” I was now pacing the floor in my room. I couldn’t believe what Keysha was telling me.

  “I slapped his cheek a few times, but he didn’t respond so I screamed for someone to call an ambulance. As I sat there, Wesley opened his eyes, which were blurry with confusion. I told him help was on the way. It took forever for the paramedics to find us because of the crowd. Wesley tried to get up, but he was too groggy.”

  “Did the police come?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but by the time they got there, Toya was long gone. They took a report. After I was done with them, I got into the ambulance with Wesley and called you,” Keysha said.

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t answer my phone,” I said, feeling guilty.

  “It’s okay. The important thing is that Wesley is going to be all right. His dad got a neighbor to drive him to the hospital since Wesley took the car.”

  “I’m glad to hear that he is going to be okay. Had he not been there
for you, things could have been worse,” I said.

  “I know. This is the second time that Wesley has come to my rescue. He’s so selfless. He didn’t hesitate to protect me.” Keysha’s voice climbed a few octaves and I immediately knew that she had gotten emotional.

  “He’s a good guy. There is no question about it,” I said. “You’re lucky to have someone like him.”

  “Yeah,” Keysha said. I could tell there was a boulder of emotion lodged in her throat.

  “When will you be back home?” I asked.

  “I’m getting a ride with Wesley and his dad. When I get home, I’ll give you a call,” she said.

  “Okay, call me then,” I said and hung up.

  twelve

  VIVIANA

  Lollapalooza was one of the biggest summer music festivals hosted by the city of Chicago. The festival featured popular alternative rock, heavy metal, punk rock and hip hop bands, dance, food and comedy performances. Thousands of music lovers from around the world came each year to enjoy the festivities. LaShaunda and I snuck into the festival by jumping an unattended section of a three-foot barricade that was normally used to keep crowds back during parades. We were not the only people who jumped the barricade during the brief moment security had stepped away. There were other partygoers who had the same idea. Once we were on the other side of the fence, we saw a sea of people dancing to the music of a rock band that neither one of us had ever heard of. The crowd was energized and totally focused on the performers, which was perfect for what I had in mind. We meandered through the crowd until I found a spot where I could talk to LaShaunda and tell her my plan.

  “Here’s the deal,” I said, as I pulled her off the sidewalk toward a tree away from the crowd.

  “What are we about to do?” she asked, while I squatted down and unzipped the backpack.

  “You’re going to be my drop-off girl,” I answered, searching the backpack to make sure it was empty. I came across something in the bag that I pulled out.