LITMIR.BIZ

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Today is Tre’s memorial service and I’m going no matter how cloudy my vision may be. My eyes are still blurry, but at least I can see what’s in front of me, unlike yesterday.

      When I didn’t show up to class yesterday, Jeremy called to make sure I was okay. I told him I was fine, just feeling a little out of it and that I’d be back by Monday. I already requested today off because I knew Tre’s funeral would start in the early afternoon and I didn’t want to miss a single moment of it. Speaking of which, if I can’t drive myself to the church I don’t know who’s going to take me. I’m not talking to anyone who’ll be there, and I know Bryan’s not going. There’s too much gang activity on that side of the train tracks for him, and he’s grown out of that stupid shit, for real. Hopefully between now and the four hours before the service begins my eyes will be good enough to drive.

      Because my sight is almost at a hundred percent, Mama took the opportunity of having me home during a school day to give me an assignment. She made me read two chapters in the spirit book: one on the living dead and another one on the power of dreaming in our lineage. I learned that when I master my powers, in my dream state I should be able to see through my ancestors’ eyes, literally as them with their gifts, Mama’s included. Now that’s some powerful shit right there.

      “So, Queen Califia’s power of sight was her ability to see treasure buried deep in the earth, no matter where it was. No wonder she was so wealthy.” Califia was one of our ancestors—whom the golden State of California happens to be named after. Lexi looks up at me, yawns, and lays her head back down, ready for some more history.

      “And it says here that Maman could influence the body’s blood supply through her sight. No wonder she was a revered healer. Our powers are generational, sharpening with time and changing with every rebirth. That makes sense. I want to know more about Mama’s gift of sight.” I flip through the numerous pages of the heavy book to my mom’s notes on Mama, which aren’t as plentiful as the ones she and our ancestors kept. It’s usually the job of each generation to keep notes on the one before it, but my mom gave that up along with her lessons. I guess that’s my job now.

      “According to my mom’s notes, Mama can borrow anyone’s powers, even people outside of the lineage. Baller,” I say. Damn, this is getting good. I knew Mama was fierce, but I had no idea her game was this tight. “No offense, Lexi, but I wish Rah were here to talk to. I need some feedback, you feel me?” My phone vibrates and I look down to see the one name I’ve been waiting on to call all week long: Rah. Well, it’s about time he got one of my messages. If all I had to do was send it through psychic mail, he should’ve called days ago.

      “I thought you were dead,” I say, even if it’s not funny. Rah basically dropped off the face of the Earth, or at least it seems that way to me. This is the longest we’ve gone without talking since we started talking again, and it doesn’t feel good.

      “Nah, I’m here. I wish someone weren’t, though.”

      “Don’t even play like that, Rah.”

      “You started it.” I guess I did. We both pause, unsure of what to say next. “Are you going to the memorial service this afternoon?” he asks, making the first move. I’m so glad to hear his voice I don’t even hear Mama come into the spirit room, and Lexi’s no help. She never gives away Mama’s position.

      “I was planning on it but I need a ride now.” Mama looks at me, quickly inspecting my eyes with her glowing ones before stepping back outside. I close the spirit book and slide it to the corner of the table. I readjust myself on the stool, because it looks like Mama’s coming right back.

      “I thought you were driving your mom’s car. Did it break down, too?”

      “No, it’s nothing like that.” I’m glad he’s concerned about a sistah’s transportation issues. I still feel bad that I let Sandy drive his Acura when he had offered it to me first. If I’d never let her borrow the car she would’ve never got her hands on Rah’s keys and made copies of them. But, like my vision, Sandy’s going to come back eventually, and when she does, her ass is mine. “Let’s just say my eyes aren’t working like they used to.”

      “Okay. I won’t even ask if this has something to do with you and Mama,” he says, already knowing the real deal. “You don’t sound like you’re at school; are you?” I look at the clock hanging on the yellow wall above the stove and can barely make out the numbers through the blur. I realize Rah’s calling me during a nutrition break. I like that our schools are on the same bell schedule.

      “No, I had to stay home today.”

      “Oh, well if you need a ride, I can pick you up. Why didn’t you call me if you needed me, girl?” He acts like we’ve been talking since Sandy stole his grandfather’s car and ran off with their daughter last weekend. Talk about selective amnesia.

      “I have been calling, or didn’t you get my messages?”

      “Jayd, I didn’t get a call about you being sick. I just needed time to cool off from the other shit, you know that.” Rah takes a deep breath and lets it out, forgiving me in the process. I already forgave him before he called.

      “Well, I need a ride. I’m in Compton. The service is going to be at my grandfather’s church.” Mama walks back into the cottage-like environment and rolls her eyes at the mention of Daddy. Why are they still married if they can’t stand each other? I hope I never have to deal with that type of drama.

      “Alright, bet. See you at two.”

      “Thank you, Rah. And it’s good to hear your voice.” I can hear his smile through the phone, but Mama’s glare tells me not to share that piece of information right now. Her body language reveals her impatience and I know it’s time for me to get off the phone and give her my undivided attention.

      “Jayd, tell Rah I said hi and bye. We have a lot of work to do to get you ready for Tre’s service,” Mama says, pulling back the white fabric and revealing the altar in the east corner of the room dedicated to the ancestors. Mama has several miniature shrines back here, instead of one joint shrine with shelves, like the one in her bedroom.

      “I’ve got to go,” I say into my cell. I begin to separate the fresh herbs Mama picked from the garden and placed on the table. She’s got thyme, basil, chamomile, rosemary, and more lavender. Whatever we’re about to make is going to smell good. She passes me an orange and a grater to make fresh peel to soak in the grapeseed oil she puts down in front of me. I could have gone to school if I knew I was going to have to do so much work today.

      “I know. Tell Mama I said hi,” Rah says.

      I hang up my pink phone and set it down on the table, away from Mama’s fresh ingredients, and start grating. I notice a tall bottle of gin on the counter next to the sink, which means we are feeding the ancestors this morning along with the rest of our duties. Mama always says a priestess’s work is never done, and I see what she means. From morning to night Mama’s doing something for someone. I don’t know how she keeps up with it all, but she does it like a pro.

      “So, what did you learn from your studies this morning? Have any new ideas on how to control your dreaming?” She takes the small pieces of orange peel and stuffs them into the oil vial. She then crushes a small amount of the lavender and places it in the same container before putting a cork in it. I follow suit with the remainder of the grated peel and share my thoughts.

      “I learned about the powers in our lineage and why they evolve like they do. I also learned that we need to keep better records around here because your stories and Maman’s stories are incomplete.” Mama smiles as she sits down on the other stool across from me. She carefully inspects the herbs and then passes them to me to wash in the sink. I rise from my seat and begin to rinse them off. “But really, I’m very interested in the different ways we’ve used and misused our gift of sight.”

      Mama takes what I’ve washed so far and puts it in a large marble mortar with a pestle to crush it. “Yes, go on,” she says.

      “I also read up on zombies. That was

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