21

Nikki

So I went home, let out my dogs and fed them, let them back in and showered the smell of sex off my body. At ten o'clock, when I was dry and redressed, Auntie Tonya called. There was no trace of her return. I answered simply, "Hi, Auntie Tonya."

"Hey, look who's awake on a Sunday morning," she chuckled. "Wanna have tea with your grandmother?"

Grandma lived in Harlem. "In Harlem? You're in Harlem?" I asked.

"Yeah. I took an early train to church but left a little early 'cause I was underdressed and all the ladies with their hats from the fifties gave me dirty looks," she sighed. "Ma—uh, Grandma, wasn't awake so she didn't go. I'm at her place right now. I wanted to have a little girl talk but I don't have all my girls here, soooo."

Boy, I was in the mood for that. "I'll be there…in as long as it takes," I said.

"M'kay, see you soon."

I hung up and went to my car.

Grandma lived in the place all the white tourists thought was too dangerous for them, as white people, to step foot in. It wasn't the worst place in the city, but yes, it wasn't the best. It was at least safe for them to drive by in the daytime. After my dad's arrest, the neighbors in the beat-up exterior but not interior treated my grandmother and I with a new respect rather than shaming like we dreaded. We, at least Grandma and I, were already well-liked by the neighbors, especially the old man in the next apartment, Mr. Cornelius Rodgers who stood on his open porch and played the saxophone all the time. Nobody was bothered by it because he was the best you could hear without paying. He taught me the basic skills before I moved to Brooklyn. And there he was, black and gray, on his porch with dusty old sax from the olden days when I got out of my car. "Hey, Mr. Rodgers," I called over the smooth music when I was on the cracked sidewalk on my feet, hoping he could hear and/or see me. He was really old.

The mouthpiece slid out of his mouth and said, "Well, well, well, if it ain't Little Miss Nikki!" he said with a crooked yellow-toothed smile. He stuck his hand out from behind the porch and gave me a firm handshake. When he let go he said, "Here to see your grandma? Your aunt is in there, too."

"Yup," I replied. "How's life…as an old guy with a saxophone?"

"Good, good," he said. "How's life as a young person with a car?"

"Pretty awesome," I giggled. "Doing big exciting things. I'm assistant director for the school play."

"Isn't that grand?" he said genuinely.

The door of the place next door opened. Grandma. "Nikki, who you talkin' to out here in the cold?"

"Mr. Rodgers," I said, gesturing to him.

She poked her head out the door and saw him. "Cornelius, you'll catch your death!"

"Nah, nah," he said, shaking it off. "It's just a little chill. Not like I ain't used to it."

She just smiled at him and then turned to me. "C'mon in. Tea's ready."

"Bye, Mr. Rodgers," I said as I climbed the stairs to her house.

"So long, Nikki." He put the sax back in his mouth and played again.

Auntie Tonya was in the first room, the living room, reading Grandma's TV guide. "C'mon, Tonya, tea time."

"Mm, if Nikki's old enough to drink I'd go for some wine and cheese," Tonya sighed dreamily.

"Or if I liked plain ol' cheese," I said with a grimace as she got up. We went into the kitchen, where mugs and an assortment of teabags were set up. Grandma hobbled to the kettle but I told her to sit down so she wouldn't spill and burn herself. She was getting weaker by the day, but amazingly was strong enough to live alone. I poured tea for three and put the kettle back on the stove. I sat down and picked peppermint, put it in with some sugar and stirred. "So I wanna talk about Deshawn."

"Who?" Grandma said.

Tonya sighed and smiled. "I told you everything about him over the phone, Momma. Don't tell me you don't remember him. He was at the New Year's party. Remember?"

She shook her head, her eyes wide. "I don't know who the hell you talkin' 'bout."

Tonya rolled her eyes and said, "So we went to his place after the show, had some drinks," Her lips tightened. "Had sex for the first time…in a long time."

Grandma looked shocked. "In front of the child, girl?"
"She's seventeen. Ain't like she hasn't heard worse."

I took a sip of the tea and recalled last evening. I've heard worse, I guess, on TV. But I knew what it was like personally now and had no regrets. I put my mug down and said, "Yeah. We have cable."

Grandma smiled. "Kids these days."

"She wouldn't survive a day in your time, Momma," Tonya said, pointing her index finger at me.

"You wouldn't either with the Jim Crowe laws," I scoffed.

"Girls, girls," Grandma said. "It wasn't a nice way to live, no, but we squeezed fun between the restrictions somehow. I mean, in the South it was worse. I praise God I didn't have to suffer through that."

Tonya pursed her lips and nodded. Grandma took a sip of her Earl Grey and said to me as she put it down, "You, Nikki. You seein' any boys?"

"You know she's never had so much as a fling at her school?" Tonya scoffed. "I mean, not to brag or pressure you, babe, but both me and your poppa were real in on the dating scene."

"I never liked any of those kids you brought home," Grandma scoffed. "Or your brother, for that matter. Obnoxious."

"Things were different then," Tonya sighed.

Things are different now. Tonya's prophecy of a tall, dark stranger trying to attack me and being saved by a taller, darker stranger. Erik was white—literally—inhumanly pale, but he wasn't really a human anyway, but he was tall and dark. Would that have been acceptable in Grandma or Tonya's time? To bring home a white zombie who I had sex with strangely soon? I wasn't quite prepared to tell Grandma and Tonya I had sex last night with Mr. Y from Phantasma, who's also a ghost-zombie thingy and we're in love. So I just shrugged and sipped my tea. I didn't say much after that. It was entertaining enough to watch Grandma and Tonya go back and forward.