Better Together, page 3
Xavier sends me a thumbs up and so does JJ. Thumbs up? I expect that from Xavier but not JJ. I stick my phone back in my pocket and follow my dad off the plane.
Dad stands with his hands in his pockets as we wait at the baggage carousel for my things. He has cracker crumbs caught in his mustache from his snack. I’m about to tell him to wipe his face when a petite woman with light brown skin and mono-lid-type eyes taps my dad on the shoulder. “Hey Jackson,” she beams.
Dad holds open one of his arms, pulling her into a side hug. “Whitney, hey! Thanks for picking us up.” Dad steps aside so that Whitney and I can see each other. “Clove, this is Whitney. She’s from our apprenticing church and has been helping us with set up.”
Us? Who’s us? Oh wait, I vaguely remember him telling me that he has a whole team of people assisting with church setup.
I extend my hand out to Whitney but she pulls me into a hug. I’m taller than her and probably a good 30 pounds heavier but that doesn’t stop her from squeezing the life out of me.
“Um, nice… to meet…you,” I try to breathe.
She finally releases me but still has a huge grin plastered on her face. “You’re simply gorgeous!” she exclaims. “Jackson has told me so much about you.”
Yet he’s mentioned nothing about her. Hmmm. Something about the way she says his name is…different. My first piece of luggage is up and about to pass us on the carousel.
Dad excuses himself to grab it. Whitney links her arm into mine as though we’re already BFF’s.
“We’re so excited to have you here. You’re going to love it in Vegas! You say the word and I’ll be happy to show you around, okay?”
Whitney takes one of my suitcases from Dad. I notice my shoe is untied, so I bend down to lace it up.
“Hold on Dad, I need to–”
When I look up, Whitney and my dad are walking ahead, side by side, laughing and talking like old friends. I think nothing of it until she reaches up and rubs her thumb across his mustache.
6
Shreveport
~Jonah
It’s been three days since I’ve talked to Clove and that’s because I have a secret.
I’ve spent the entire weekend packing, cleaning and moving furniture. After I dropped Clove off at home Thursday night, my mom and Dad called a family meeting. We have family meetings weekly, but this one seemed serious. My parents sat with a straight face while I held my baby sister. My youngest brother, Caleb, sat next to me wearing the astronaut costume I brought back from Space camp. And as usual, my 15 year-old brother Zach was the last to sit down, groaning about how he detests our weekly meetings.
“Your mother and I have some big news,” Dad said.
“Oh god, please don’t tell us you’re pregnant again,” Zach groaned.
Mom shot him a sharp look. “No, but if I was, you’d put a smile on your face and love it.”
“Anyway,” Dad went on. “We’re moving.”
“What? Where?” Zach asked.
Dad held up his hands in defense. “Hold on, we’re going to explain. No one interrupt until I’m done and then you can ask questions.”
Zach sat back and huffed but Dad continued.
“Jackson has offered me a position in the church as his accountant and financial advisor. Which means we’ll be moving to Las Vegas.”
“You can’t be serious,” Zach interrupted.
“I said don’t interrupt me, son,” Dad said firmly. “This is going to be a much better opportunity for our family. I won’t have to work an hour outside of town and your mom will be working at a K-12 school that the three of you will be attending. I will be working from home and will keep Adah until one of you comes home. This means we’ll have to work together as a family like always.”
“Where are we going to live? Did you find us a home already?” Zach asked.
“Yes. Well, no. I didn’t find the home, Jackson did. We’re renting a five bedroom home not too far from the school. It’s in the same neighborhood as Jackson and Clove.”
My heart skipped a beat to hear that I would not only be in the same city as Clove, but I’d be living close to her as well.
“Does Clove know?” I asked.
“Not yet. We thought you might like to tell her yourself,” my mom said.
Ever since the family meeting, I’ve been thinking of ways that I could surprise Clove. I could walk to her house with flowers, bring her lunch or dinner, or maybe I could just call her and say, “Open your front door.”
We have three days to make it to Las Vegas before school starts. Mom wanted to stay a day in Shreveport to visit my Aunt Alyson and Uncle Albert–also known as Nonk Albert. Seeing my family is cool, but I’m anxious to see Clove.
It’s mid-morning when we pull up into my Aunt Alyson’s driveway. Dad parks the moving truck across the street. Aunt Alyson leaps from her rocking chair on the porch and opens mom’s door. “Hey Diva,” she says to mom. As they embrace, we all get out of the car and stretch. Dad unbuckles Adah from her car seat.
Once she’s hugged all of us, Aunt Alyson says, “Y’all come on in and have some bruhfuss. We got fisn’n grits wit some eggs too. And we gon’ have mudbugs tonight. Y’all finna eat good t’day. Y’all boys needs some meat on ya’ bones. Y’all too skinny.”
I have always thought people in Louisiana talked funny, funnier than people in Smalltown. Coming from France, I partially understand it. Mom is Creole so often her and Aunt Alyson mix French and English.
Before going inside, I tell Dad I’ll take the moving truck to fill up on gas.
“Alright,” he says. “Take Zach with you.”
For what? I want to ask. I sigh. “Come on Zach.”
He texts rapidly on his phone. Who could he be texting this early in the morning? If anything, I know it’s a girl.
“Who are you texting?”
“Trina. She’s mad at me.”
“At 10 a.m.? How’d you tick a girl off this early?”
He explains that last night he went to go see each of his girls but they ganged up on him, each of them figured out he was playing them.
Zach is a womanizer. He takes full advantage of his looks and athletic ability. It almost always gets him into trouble with a girl or worse: with mom.
I shake my head as we arrive at the gas station. “It’s too early for all that. You pump, I pay.”
Dad’s card won’t read at the pump so I have to go inside. I leave Zach in the truck talking on the phone trying to make-up and apologize to one of his girlfriends.
“Look baby, I said I was sorry,” Zach says into his phone. “You’re the only one I wanna be with.”
He’s hopeless. None of this should matter because we’re not in Smalltown anymore. Is he seriously trying to keep up a relationship or in his case–relationships?
I stand in line behind two other people. While I wait, I observe all the food, chicken and biscuits, sausage and biscuits, catfish and biscuits, cheese biscuits and…oh, wait a minute. Is that homemade jam in those mason jars? I wasn’t hungry but I am now. Then I look to the left of the register and see cans of boiled peanuts. I shudder. Clove use to eat those and she made me try them once. I will never eat them again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see something moving. The truck. Our moving truck!
Where is Zach going? He doesn’t know how to drive. I rush outside to see Zach coming from the side of the building while hanging up his phone.
“Who’s in the truck?” he asks.
“I thought you were!”
“No, I couldn’t hear Trina, so I got out to find better reception. We really need a better cell phone carrier for being out here in these sticks.”
Is that all he can think about? “Zach do you not realize that our stuff was stolen?” I put both my hands in my hair. “You weren’t supposed to get out!”
“Me? You’re blaming me? I’m not the one who left the keys in the ignition. You’re supposed to be the smart one. How could you be so dumb? All my shoes were in there. Every single pair of Jordans!”
Wow. His selfishness annoys me, but I don’t have time to deal with him. I reach in my pocket for my phone to dial the police but remember I left it on the dashboard. I can’t be more frustrated with myself than I am right now.
A man with a snapback cap comes up to me. “Y’all better call the police right ‘way. The sooner, the better. Truck stealin’ been happenin’ out here for the past cuppa months. Sorry. Wish I wudda seen who dunnit.”
An older woman stooped over with a cane approaches us. She has wrinkles on top of wrinkles. “I can’t see very well, but I know it was a guy and a girl. I’d be happy to talk to the police for you and tell them what I can.”
“Thank you so much,” I say. “I appreciate that.”
Zach gets on his phone but instead of calling the police, I hear him say, “Hey Trina baby, guess what?”
I snatch the phone out of his hand.
7
Surprise
~Clove
Goodness! Las Vegas is hotter than a cat in pajamas. I thought getting the mail after the sun went down was a good idea. I was wrong.
In Smalltown, we didn’t need a key to get our mail and we certainly didn’t need to walk for what seems like a mile to get it. It actually wasn’t a mile, but from the way I’m sweating, you’d think I’d crossed the Sahara Desert.
As soon as I get inside, I put the mail down on the marble kitchen island. Our new home is nice. It’s one-story and neatly organized. I have a strong feeling that Whitney had something to do with it, seeing as how she’s already in our kitchen cooking dinner. Whitney seems friendly and perky, but why is she all up in our space? I suspect there’s more than a friendship between her and my dad, but I’m not going to ask.
“Hot out there, huh?” Whitney says while taking some seasoning from the cabinet.
“Yeah.”
Not knowing what else to say, I begin to walk away.
“You ever had Lao food?” she asks.
Great. She wants to have a conversation. I stare at her as if that’s my answer.
“My dad is Laotian and my mom is African American. I thought I’d share one of our traditional dishes with you.”
“Uh, thanks.” I take another step towards my room but Whitney speaks again.
“I work at Garvey, the school you’ll be going to. It’s a pretty big campus; there’s the elementary school campus, the middle school campus where your father’s church will be held on Sundays. Then there’s the high school building where you’ll be. If you need anything just–”
“I’m fine.” I cut her off not wanting to listen to her go on and on. I go to my room and stay there until my Dad taps on my door.
“Hey Buttercup,” Dad peeks his head in. His eyebrows are set low and there’s a worry line on his forehead.
“Dad, what is it? Is something wrong?”
He takes a deep breath. “James just called.”
James is JJ’s dad. My heart stops beating and I clutch my chest as if I can’t breathe. Oh God, no. Something has happened to JJ.
“Relax,” Dad says. “They’re alright but their moving truck was stolen.”
My heart rate slows down but then I catch on to what he said. “Moving truck?”
Dad crinkles his eyebrows. “Yes, their moving truck. You knew they were moving here, right? I assumed Jonah told you.”
I’m stunned beyond words. JJ never mentioned it. Why did he lie to me and say that stuff about us just maintaining a friendship because of distance?
“Well, I was coming to tell you that I was going to call a meeting with my church team tomorrow. We’re going to talk about how we can help the Jourdan’s. I’d love to have your input too.”
I pick up my phone to call JJ.
“Oh, by the way,” Dad says. “Jonah’s phone was in the truck when it was stolen so you won’t be able to call him. Zach and Jonah had went to get some gas and someone drove off with their things. James said Jonah left the keys in the ignition thinking Zach was going to stay in there but Zach got out to talk on the phone.”
I bet anything Zach was talking to some girl and if I know JJ, he is probably internalizing this like crazy. He’s always taken the responsibility of being the oldest seriously.
I decide to not reel him out for lying to me, instead I dial Mama Jourdan’s number.
8
Mudbugs
~Jonah
I do not understand how someone could steal an entire moving truck. Why would someone do that? All of our family heirlooms, the piano that I first learned to play on, my new guitar, our clothes, and all of our family photos, are gone. I can’t believe it. And then, Dad’s old car was attached to it. They don’t have the keys so I’m guessing they’re probably going to use it for parts. Ugh! Zach is right. How could I have been dumb enough to leave the keys in the ignition? The truck had very little gas. How far did the thieves think they would get?
I talked to the police for almost an hour while Dad consoled my mom. Seeing Mom cry made me feel like a failure.
Now, I’m lying down while the rest of my family eats a late dinner. I’ve been in Louisiana for less than a day and my mind and body are dilapidated. I can’t eat or sleep because my stomach is filled with guilt.
There’s a light tap on the guest bedroom door.
“Jonah,” My Aunt Alyson says walking into the room. “Ya needn’t worry yerself ova alla dis. It ain’t nonna ya fault. Come an’ eat. Ya Nonk made y’all some mudbugs. We gon’ have us a good meal tonight.”
I still don’t understand how the word Nonk comes from Uncle. I’d said the words over in my head back and forth. Nonk. Uncle. Nonk. Uncle. Yes, it all made perfect sense. Aunt Alyson has such a thick accent that I can barely understand her sometimes.
“No thank you, Aunt Alyson. I’m not hungry.” I don’t want to eat any mudbugs, whatever that might be. I turn my back away from the door and close my eyes.
After a moment, I smell the scent of Jasmine. Mom rubs my arm. “Jonah, you’ve been moping all day. This is not your fault. Things can be replaced but people can’t. Even if we do not have all of our things, we have each other.”
She turns my chin to her. “This is a new chapter, baby. It will be different but I want you to put this out of your mind. You are a wonderful son and I love you no matter what. We’ll get through this. You need to eat.”
“Sorry mom, but dinner does not sound appetizing.”
Mom snickers. “It’s just seafood. She also has some étouffée and beignets.”
Aunt Alyson makes the best beignets. I may need to reconsider. Mom gets a call and shows me her phone. Unfortunately, it’s a number I recognize.
Mom frowns. “Why did you give this girl my number? She’s been calling me non-stop.”
“I didn’t give Hannah your number. She must have saved it that time I used her phone.”
“Well tell her to stop calling me. If you don’t want to be with her, then say so.”
I had said so several times and don’t know how else to say it. Mom leaves her phone on the bed. I watch it ring and then lay back down. Five seconds later, it rings again with the same number.
I take a deep breath. “Hello.”
“JJ, sweetie, I’ve been calling you all day.” Hannah cries.
What a coincidence, I’ve been avoiding her all day.
“How did you get my mom’s phone number?”
“I saved it when you called her on my phone. But anyway, I called earlier and your mom told me your stuff got stolen. She told me you didn’t feel like talking.”
So then, why is she calling me? “Hannah, I’m fine but you can’t keep calling my mom.”
“Do you need anything?” she asks ignoring my statement.
What kind of question is that? I need our stuff back but absolutely nothing from her. “No, I’m good.”
Hannah tells me how bad she feels about our things. She goes on and on until another call comes in. I look at the picture that lights up the screen. It’s Clove and I from Easter this year. I forgot Mom took this photo. Clove wore a bright yellow, halter dress that caught everyone’s attention. Not because it was bright, but because she was so stunningly gorgeous. I stare at the two of us in the photo.
“Hold on,” I tell Hannah. I try to switch calls but mom’s phone is different. I think I’ve hung up on Hannah. Whoops.
“Hey Clove.”
“JJ? I wasn’t sure if you’d answer your mom’s phone or not. I know you don’t want to talk right now, but my phone will be by my bed if you change your mind.”
“Thanks,” I reply.
We’re silent for a few seconds until I realize that if she’s calling mom’s phone, she must know my surprise.
“You know, don’t you?”
“Yep, can’t believe you tried to keep a secret like this from me.”
“I know. I’m sorry but the night I brought you home from the airport, I honestly didn’t know we were moving. It was a last-minute decision and we spent three days selling, packing and throwing away stuff.”
“JJ I don’t have the right words for how I feel. I’m happy that you’re moving here, mad that you didn’t tell me sooner and disgusted that someone stole all your things.”
I don’t want to think about it so I change the subject. “How is Las Vegas so far?”
“Hot, and I saw a scorpion already.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I ran away from it, but if you were here, you would’ve tried to examine it.”
I sort of laugh. “No, I wouldn’t. They sting, but it would be kind of cool to see their bodies glow under blacklight.”
“You know what else I learned about Scorpions?” she asks.
“What?”
“Scorpions are part of the Phylum Arthropoda family. Did I say it right?”
“I think so. You been reading up on Phylum Arthropoda?”
“Kinda. After I saw the scorpion, I thought about you and wanted to know more.”
I smile. She’s been thinking about me. “More about me or the scorpion?”
