Page 49 of Citiali: Teach
I laugh at Rocko. “No but in Badass no one would care. I was seen as a savage, people actually thought it about me. Since I read, I made a point to dress with care and keep my hair tamed. It started young so it’s a habit now. Breeches and the flimsy shirts were cheap and could be made easily. Now they’re like fashion or something. The T under it costs more than the shirt because they make it special for me. It doesn’t show in the front but covers my back.”
“I’m like Pres, grunge is my habit.” Rocko isn’t kidding.
I laugh with the others.
“I didn’t grow up around Indians but I can see people treating you different. Being black has racial assumptions connected to us. I avoided eating watermelon or fried chicken anywhere but at home. I never ate it at school either. I love both.”
I throw him chin. Jamal Kent didn’t have an easy life either. “I lived with my grandfather; my family banned me and my brother from the reservation. My grandfather was a medicine man and never paid much attention to our appearance. My uncle did and taught us to braid our hair and sew on the machine. Grandfather was proud and mentioned it to everyone so it stuck. Hiding who we are isn’t an option, so we made it obvious in ways that showed pride for the heritage we were raised in. Some Brothers hid that heritage. I swore I never would.” I remember the first-time grandfather talked about us sewing. I can’t remember but I doubt we did a very good job on our first shirts. It taught us to make more of an effort in that job as we grew up.
“Right on, man. Black is beautiful and all that.” Kent has me smiling.
“Embrace the inner you. I grew up in a yoga loving nuthouse.” Marjorie makes me laugh, she’s so far from that I don’t know how her parents made it. Brash and loud is funny when you think of a yoga loving nuthouse.
“My dad was a drunk but the Club took care of us. When he died, the neighbors fostered us but let us live in our own house. I was seventeen and my brother was sixteen. They paid the mortgage with the foster money and we worked at the Club for the bills and shit. It was good then. My brother bought the house and married the neighbor’s girl. They're the best family.” He loves them all and sees Christmas lights on two houses side by side.
I hold my arm out so he doesn’t pay attention to me throwing strength to him.
He takes it with a smile. “It was good then. You made it too. Like us.” He’s embarrassed he said so much.
“That is good, Rocko. Hemy sort of did that for us. We had Brothers and Indians around us growing up.”
He nods relieved to move on. “I read about you but Pres Brekan told me. I don’t know Indians and didn’t want to get shot. He’s easy and doesn’t take offense.”
I smile. “He’s a reader and would know you didn’t mean it. We’re really not all savages and have lived in our skin from birth. I don't know all Indians but the ones I know are just like everyone else. We do our best and make mistakes too.”
He smiles, losing the seriousness he had on to convince me. “He said you’re like him but have more freaky. It don’t scare me like other Brothers. No one cares if I didn’t go to college and shit. I do my job like you all.”
Kent puts his fist out. “Went to the army and do my job, Brother. I love the Brothers at my back and the never alone Badass gives us.”
My eyes meet Marjorie’s and I smile at her rolling hers. “I’m out. Dyani is onto something. You’re boring.”
The two trainers watch her leave then look at each other. I’m younger than both, but don’t feel that now.
Rocko turns toward me. “So, the warning, I don’t like the kids mixed up in there.”
I shake my head. “I was told to be alert. Not who, when or where. Visions can happen in minutes or years. Since someone showed up, I’d say it’s hours or days for this one.”
He nods slowly. “I don’t like that.”
I smile. “Can’t say I love it either but it’s a warning I need and I’m alert. It’s all we can do until it shows and we react.” His body relaxes, surprising the hell out of me.
“Yeah. At least we know to be alert. It’s like a job. We got this, VP.”
I hold the laugh in but smile. “We do, Brother.”
“I’m swimming’.”
I nod and watch him and Kent start shedding electronics, then clothes and decide it’s a good time for more firewood.”
***
I stand at the door watching my girl sleep. Her unruly hair is spiked and corkscrewed every which way above her serene and flawless face. With almost almond shaped eyes, prominent cheekbones, wide mouth and narrow chin, the heart shape makes her look more dainty than you’d think of an Indian. At least what I’m accustomed to. She got new hair shit from Josephine but the taming doesn’t last in sleep, I guess. I still love it. It fights the dainty like her spirit.
My clothes go on the chair and I climb in bed behind her. My hands know where and when to move so I get the sleep filled moans I love to hear. She moves into my hand and purrs. WhenI see the secret smile, I flip her to her stomach and roll onto her. “Love that you love this.”
“Mmm, love that you know how to do it.” She’s got to be half asleep. We’ve been fucking since the day I claimed her.
With an arm under her, I wrench her up hard and slide in between her lips. That purr sounds again and I know this isn’t lasting for her, which is good because it already has me on edge after the fuckin’ grapefruit.
