her out of school and made her start learning a trade that she could get a job with. Ms. Mack might’ve had a bunch of babies, but she promised Nikola she would kick a baby out of her stomach if she got pregnant before she had her life all the way together. I was glad I was too close to 18 for Trinity to shove that trade shit down my throat, although I had been thinking about going to cosmetology school once I snagged my high school diploma in a couple of months. Nikola’s program came with too many rules, and I already had a warden on my back within Trinity. I had been promising myself I was going to look into some beauty schools since I knew college was out of the question, but I had been too busy putting all my spare time into checking up on my secret bae, Street.
“Porsha.” I heard my mother dramatically snapping her fingers. “I do not know what you are daydreaming about. But hurry up and finish rolling that weed so you can bust down your chore list before your father calls up here needing your help. I did not let you stay home so you could lounge around and watch TV, running up my electricity bill and getting fat because your ass wanna eat everything in the damn refrigerator.” And just like that, she had killed the good vibe with her alter-ego personality. Trinity did not have a diagnosis, but you could not tell me she was not bipolar.
My clothes would actually fit you if I gained a few pounds. I looked her up and down on the sly in my baby T-shirt and leggings, damn near biting my tongue off so I did not let my thoughts slip from my mouth. I hated that Trinity was always in my drawers and clothes but had a problem if I wanted to borrow one of her outfits or a pair of gym shoes. My mother was not old-fashioned about her style or her behavior. Of all my friends, I had the cool mom, but that did not always work in my favor. I sometimes wished I had an airhead for a mom, for no other reason than I could get away with a lot more. Trinity Jackson could be a muthafucka to handle, and that was putting it respectfully.
“Okay, Ma, what’s on my slave itinerary for the day?” I turned the TV off before the preview for tomorrow’s episode could finish playing.
“Slave itinerary? Oh, you wanna be cute? I can have your smart-mouth ass on the roof sweeping off the shingles if you want to do some real work. You think the light labor you do around here is equivalent to a slave’s? Child, please.”
I giggled. “Yeah, whatever, Ma. I am good on that. Just tell me what I gotta do.” I got up to take my bowl to the kitchen but was shoved back down to the floor within a split second.
“I do not know what young nigga’s dick you done sat on that got you feeling yourself, Porsha, but you are going to end up getting a helluva reputation through the hood for giving some gummy head. You have got one more time to say something slick to me, and I am sending you to the dentist with your teeth in a Crown Royal bag.” She stood over me, braced to blow my mouth out if I tested her promise.
Scared to say the wrong thing, I nodded and dared to catch eye contact with her. I knew all too well how wild Trinity could go off on me.
“Ma, ma, ma, ma, ma.” My little brother’s voice broke through the awkward silence and took Trinity’s attention off me.
“Here I come, Benzie,” she responded to my little brother in a much calmer voice. Then she looked back at me and addressed me with a growl. “You, Porsha, clean up that milk before it sets in and starts smelling spoiled in here. Then get in there and see after your brother. You done pissed me the fuck off with your smart mouth, and I do not want to take it out on him.” She scooped up the joints I rolled, then stepped over me on her way out of the room. “And by the way, I was trying to chill and be nice to you. I do not always like having to grow you up by beating your ass, despite what you think.”
I made sure I did not mutter a word until I heard her bedroom door slam. Then I said, “Whatever. I sure as hell cannot tell.” Episodes like that were why I could not wait to get out of her house.
By the time I finished cleaning up the milk and the broken bowl and getting Benzie some oatmeal and juice in a sippy cup, he was restless and whining. I tried hurrying up so he did not start having a full-blown tantrum and agitate Trinity even more. I loved my brother, although it was kinda hard to sneak around with my homegirls with him on my hip, but I started rebelling when I found out Trinity was pregnant. She taught me how to warm up ravioli in the microwave when I was in kindergarten so she did not have to feed me after school on demand. So I knew a younger sibling was going to be more of my baby than hers. Older kids always have to be overly responsible for their younger sibs. I had seen it happen with my best friend, Nikola. Her mother had been a vessel for life and a passageway for all babies waiting to be born until she had her tubes tied. Nikola had six younger siblings, and she’d raised the three who were ages right underneath her. Noel, Nyla, and Nicholas were no more than two years apart. I stopped complaining whenever I thought about how much shit she had to do for all three of them.
As soon as I opened the door and Benzie saw my face, he stopped crying and started jumping up and down in his crib with his arms spread wide. He was always happy to see me.
“Up, up, up.” He reached for me. Benzie was smart as hell for a 1-year-old.
“How was your nap, li’l man?” I picked him up and kissed his forehead.
First, he fell against my cheek with a mouthful of drool and gave me his version of a kiss. Then he caught me off guard and headbutted me.
“Ouch, Benzie.” I rubbed my head and exaggerated the pain so he would have some sympathy for me and regret for his actions, but that only made him laugh more. My daddy had been calling himself toughening Benzie up lately, and it was obvious it was working.
“I am going to give you a whoop-whoop if you headbutt me again.” I knew good and well I was not going to hit him or let harm come his way. I was my brother’s keeper.
After showering Benzie with kisses, I sat him down on his play mat with his favorite toys and got him a fresh diaper and laid out clean pajamas. He had been fighting a cold for the last few days, so he had not been leaving the house. That was part of the reason I got to stay home from school. Trinity did not feel like getting up this morning when he was fussy and coming down from a fever.
My mother’s patience was burned out when she gave birth to me, so I did not know why her tubes weren’t tied to prevent her from having another child she did not feel like strolling to the park or playing with. I spent a lot of my time as a kid watching soap operas over her shoulder and looking outside at the other kids playing because she did not feel like sitting outside with me. She did, however, buy me every toy in Toys “R” Us so I could entertain myself properly. It was hard to complain or say I had a bad childhood when I was in fresh clothes and gym shoes every time I went to school or left the house. I was the only kid in the neighborhood with a Sega Genesis, a Nintendo, a Game Boy, and video games galore. Benzie was going to be spoiled out of his mind the same way. He already was.
“Hey, baby girl, are you ready to come downstairs and work?” My father came into Benzie’s room, kissed me on the forehead, then scooped Benzie up and tossed him in the air.
Benzie was laughing harder and smiling harder than he was when I walked in the room, but I was not surprised, because he loved being under our father. Calvin was a savage in the streets, but he was the best dad in the world. And although not all of his time was devoted to us, he made sure he was present and kept me schooled on street politics. Family was important to him. He felt, preached, and taught me that we were supposed to hold each other down no matter what.
“We’re all we’ve got in this cold and cruel world, Porsha. You better ride just as hard for Benzie, your mom, and me as I ride for you. No one in this family should fail if we keep each other’s backs covered. Do you understand?” My dad’s words played over in my head as I watched him play with Benzie. The one thing I did
