LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

does not.” Mama’s stern voice let’s me know that her patience with me is wearing thin. “You act like you haven’t been coming here all of your life, Jayd. What’s gotten into you today?”

      “I’m just saying, what’s my tongue got to do with my temperature?”

      “You can tell a lot about what’s going on in a person’s body by looking at the color of their tongue. Part of being a natural practitioner is taking the path of least intrusiveness, and that starts with you being quiet and sticking out your tongue.” Mama throws her soft pink cashmere shawl across her shoulders and covers the slight cleavage she’s letting pop today. She looks like she’s going out on a date or something.

      “Chilly?”

      Mama smiles at me and I can’t help but smile back. Mama’s a grown, attractive woman and she’s not dead. If anyone deserves some innocent flirting and positive attention from a man it’s my grandmother. Dr. Whitmore walks through the curtain and sets my chart and a small tray of instruments down on the table next to my feet. He looks at my grandmother and takes in her presence fully before turning his attention back to me.

      “As you already know, your visit alludes to a larger spiritual problem and I know your grandmother’s already on top of that.” Dr. Whitmore winks at Mama and she blushes like a schoolgirl. If they keep it up they’re going to make me sick instead of heal me, which is the reason I’m here. Taking the miniature flashlight off the tray, he looks into my eyes, ears, and nose. Dr. Whitmore returns the light to the tray and takes out seven thin acupuncture needles. Mama rises from her seat and walks over to the sink on the other side of the room where his shelves and cabinets are housed, and washes her hands.

      “Lynn Mae, do you remember the first time we performed acupuncture together?”

      “Of course I do. You let me in the room knowing I’d never poked anyone with a needle before.”

      “Yes, but even then your acupressure was exceptional.” Dr. Whitmore watches as Mama reaches for two of the small tincture vials lining the wall above the sink. She takes two cotton balls from their jar next to the sink and joins Dr. Whitmore for my session. “Lie down, child. This won’t take long.”

      “Jayd, I want you to breathe deep and try to relax,” Mama says, patting my thigh with her right hand as she pushes the cotton ball down on one of the tincture jars with her other hand. She then applies the effervescent ball onto the center of my forehead, my temples, the top of both shoulders, and on the side of both big toes. These are the points where Dr. Whitmore will place the needles. As I inhale the lavender and patchouli oil intermingling in the air, Dr. Whitmore follows Mama’s trail, and I’m directed to be still and let the needles do their job.

      I know it sounds crazy, but these little needles really do get some things moving in my body. I don’t have acupuncture very often, but every time I do I feel better afterward. It’s just the poking and prodding that bugs me. After they are done placing the needles, Mama cleans up and returns to her seat while I drift off, enjoying the surge of ashe, or spiritual power, flowing through me.

      After what seems like only a few minutes, I can feel Mama rise from her seat and begin to remove the needles. I open my eyes and glance at the clock on the wall. I’ve been lying here for close to an hour. Mama smiles down at me and Dr. Whitmore smiles down at her. They both look like they enjoyed my nap more than I did.

      “How do you feel?” he asks, again forcing my tongue out while he searches for signs of life. He gives a nod of satisfaction and Mama does the same thing.

      “I feel okay. I slept.”

      “Yes, but did you dream?” Mama asks. In any other household parents would be happy to know their children were sleeping, but not in mine. Mama’s got to have the dreams too, and damn the REM sleep.

      “No, I didn’t, or if I did I can’t remember. I didn’t even realize I’d been out for this long.” Mama breathes a sigh of concern and looks up at Dr. Whitmore for suggestions. Dr. Whitmore walks over to his medicine cabinet, pulls out a jar of huge brown capsules, and hands them to me. “Whatever or whoever’s stressing you out, let him go. That goes for you too, Lynn Mae.” Mama and I both look at him and reluctantly smile. We’ve both got our share of boy problems and, unfortunately, that always leads to hating females like Esmeralda and Misty.

      “Thank you, Dr. Whitmore.”

      “Don’t mention it, young lady. You just take care of yourself and watch your back. Esmeralda means you harm and that’s real. But we won’t let her get the best of you, little Jayd.” Mama takes out her wallet to pay, but Dr. Whitmore puts his hand over hers and directs her to keep her money. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

      “Thank you again,” I say, following Mama to the door.

      “Yes, thank you, and we’ll talk to you soon.” Mama looks back at him as he walks us to the entrance. They look at each other like they want to say more but can’t because I’m here. I step outside in front of Mama and let them have a moment alone. I walk to my mom’s car and open the passenger door, tossing my purse into the backseat. I look at the bottle the doctor gave me and study the Chinese characters.

      “What are these?” I ask Mama as she exits the building. She walks over to me and looks around to check out our environment. Mama’s always on red alert, and rightfully so. We’ve got plenty of haters out here.

      “They are vitamins to help strengthen your ashe. You’re going to need all of the help you can get to fight off whatever this girl’s put on you. And even more than that, you’re going to need to learn how to control your dreams before they end up hurting you, or worse.” I’ve never heard Mama this scared before. Worse?

      “The only thing that could be worse is death, and I know that’s not what you’re talking about, is it?” I search her eyes for a hint, but she’s not giving in.

      “Jayd, you ask too many questions,” Mama says, answering my question with a straight poker face. “Just focus on getting some sleep and leave the rest up to me.” No problem. I have enough on my plate as it is.

      “Can I drive you home?” Mama looks at me like I’m really crazy this time, but I have to ask. Without responding, Mama drapes her shawl over her shoulders and begins her trek toward Gunlock Avenue. “Okay; see you at home,” I say to Mama as she turns the corner, walking toward our block. As fast as she steps, she’ll probably beat me there. I didn’t have a chance to ask her about how to handle my new classmates, but that can wait until tomorrow. I don’t want anything else on my mind for my date with some much-needed sleep. The drama will definitely still be there come morning.

      With Tre’s service on Friday and Rah still not talking to me, the last thing I need is something else to worry about. Mickey’s still pissed at me for telling her off about Nigel getting shot, and I can’t get any information from Nigel himself because his parents have confiscated his cell. It seems like life as I know it has changed permanently, and there’s nothing that I can do about it. After I finish my homework I’m going to take my meds, and if they work like they’re supposed to, I should get some good sleep tonight.

      “Lynn Marie, please stop. You don’t know what you’re doing!” Mama shouts as I empty the contents of one of my three large Hefty trash bags that house my clothes, underwear, and other possessions. Bryan’s bottom bunk bed is covered with all of my things—except they’re not really mine and I’m not me. I’m my mother at my age. Oh hell, no, not again.

      “You don’t own me, Mama. I can do what I want, when I want.” I continue to empty the bags onto the bed and sift through my mother’s things. Damn, she has a lot of shit.

      “No, you cannot, little girl, and as long as you live under my roof you will do as I say.” Mama grabs my arm and turns me toward her. When I look into her eyes I see it’s not Mama but rather Maman, and she’s looking at me so intently it’s making my head hurt.

      “Problem solved,” I (as my mom) say, without moving my lips. I’m talking to Maman from my mind

Скачать книгу