Jonovan was sitting down over by an oak tree on a makeshift bench that was actually a piece of a tree trunk that had been chopped down. People made out however they could back then. If a dead tree had to come down, parts of it were going to be utilized for one damn thing or another.
I walked over to him. “Hey, Jonovan.”
“Hey, Caprice. How are you?”
“I’m okay. Just wondering if you wouldn’t mind walking me home. My grandma’s going to sound the alarm and call the police if I don’t get back soon and I’m scared of the dark.”
“I’ve got my bike. You mind riding on the back of it?”
“How am I going to do that when you only have one seat?”
“I stand up and pedal. You’ve never ridden like that before?”
I was embarrassed to say that I really was not even good at riding bikes. I had never owned one. We couldn’t afford them. My experience was limited to taking a turn here or there on Bianca’s when we were younger.
“No, I’ve never done that, but I’m open. Can we leave now?”
“Sure. I need to be home by nine myself.”
As we were leaving together, I heard Herman say, “Uh-oh. What’s going on with you two?”
We both blushed.
“I’m making sure she gets home,” Jonovan replied.
“You coming back?” Bianca asked.
“No, I need to get home. Don’t any of the rest of you have curfews?”
Cherie said, “Bianca’s spending the night, and some of the other girls. Caprice, you want to stay? Call your grandmother and ask.”
“No, I can’t.”
There was no hesitation in my reply. I wanted to be home every night to keep an eye on my grandmother. She was in poor health, and my biggest fear was that she might fall and hit her head and I wouldn’t be around. Crazy because about two and a half years later, I would leave her for good. My biggest fear transformed into something much worse. I felt like staying would only bring her heartache and shame. She had endured enough of that. Everyone was always talking about Mrs. Alice Tatum, whose daughter went crazy and cut up the face of her granddaughter.
* * *
I was trembling all the way to my house on the back of Jonovan’s bike. “Nooooooooooooooooo!” I screamed out as he hopped a curb, dashed out into the street and then hopped another curb to get onto the opposite sidewalk.
“Calm down, Caprice,” he said.
It was clear that he was showing off in front of me. At least, that is what it seemed like. When we finally pulled up in the front yard, I was so ready to get off that Hutch BMX.
Grandma was sitting on the living room sofa staring out the window.
Jonovan waved at her and yelled, “Hey, Mrs. Tatum! Sorry she’s late!”
She waved slightly at him, but I could tell she was highly irritated and had been sitting there concerned. I felt bad, but at least I was home. Some of the kids I knew couldn’t have cared less about worrying their relatives.
I climbed off the back of the bike and straightened up my jean shorts that had been embedded in my crotch from the seat and my neon T-shirt. I had on pink jelly shoes and my feet were killing me. Some things change and some remain the same. By the time most girls are ten, they are already wearing shoes that cut into their toes, mess up their arches, or give them corns and bunion s. They eventually graduate to high heels and stilettos, all in an effort to look cute for men who pay little attention to the shoes. Some men like “fuck-me pumps” but most are more concerned with what kind of tits and ass the chicks are working with.
“Thanks again for bringing me back.”
“No problem.”
“So this is how the magic happens when you deliver papers, huh?”
“Yeah, sorry if I was going too fast, but I do my entire route in less than thirty minutes. I get my money fast and then get home.”
“You like delivering papers?”
Jonovan shrugged. “I guess. It was part of the deal. My dad agreed to get me this bike if I worked off the money, so I’m working off the money.”
I giggled. “Makes sense.”
Grandma was up off the sofa and suddenly swung the front door open, staring at me through the screen. “It’s late, Caprice.”
“I’m coming, Grandma.”
“You better get in there before she comes out here and beats us both with her cane.”
We both chuckled.
“She’d never do that,” I replied. “Ground me, yes. Beat me up, no.”
Jonovan seemed like he was hesitating to say something.
“What is it?”
He zipped up his Wrangler jean jacket. It was getting cooler outside.
“Seriously, what is it?” I asked again.