Bell Bottom High: Book 2: Sophomore Sorrows Read online

Page 5


  “What was that all about?” Joshua asked, giving me the evil eye like I’d done something wrong.

  “Nothing,” I replied, turning away from him. “Are you all right, Joyce?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied. “Don’t worry, Joshua, he’s just mad because we told the truth about something he did.”

  “Look…” Joshua began, but the bell sounded at the same time he opened his mouth. We rushed past him without saying anything else.

  *

  I stepped off the school bus on Wednesday and hurried inside my white frame house. I’d missed Joyce at school, because she had a doctor’s appointment that morning and never made it to campus. I’ve got to call Joyce and see what happened. Hopefully, everything is all right with her.

  Reaching for the doorknob, I felt the front door being pulled open. I almost lost my balance as I tumbled inside. “What’s wrong with you? You don’t remember how to walk anymore?”

  “Tyrone! What are you doing home?” I asked, beaming up at my oldest brother. He was over six-feet tall with a thick afro and pretty, straight teeth. He was as thin as a light pole with big feet and big hands. His caramel face beamed right back at me.

  “What do you mean? I can’t come home to see my little sister before going overseas?” he asked, wrapping his long arms around me. I inhaled the faint scent of his Hai Karate cologne and smiled.

  “Sure you can. I’m just surprised to see you!”

  “Good, that’s just how I planned it. I couldn’t spend another day away at college. I want to spend as much time as I can with you guys,” Tyrone stated, releasing me.

  “I’m so happy to see you. Thanks for the wonderful surprise,” I said, still smiling.

  “Look, why don’t you go say hello to Grandma, and I’ll grab my car keys so we can go for a ride. I’ve already given her a snack along with her medicine. She’s back there watching Dark Shadows,” Tyrone said, pointing down the hallway. “You know she never misses that show.”

  “Cool,” I shouted, racing down the hallway. I dropped my school books on my bed and stepped over to check on grandma. “Hey, Grandma, how’re you doing?”

  “Hi, baby, I’m doing fine. You see your big brother made it home,” she stated, glancing up at me with bubbly eyes. Grandma adored all of us the same. She kept on rocking and smiling. She loved her rocking chair almost as much as she loved watching Dark Shadows every weekday. Granny sat with her hands folded across her lap and an afghan across her shoulders.

  “Yep, I was surprised. He’s going to take me out for a ride!”

  “Oh, that’s good. You two get out and have some fun.”

  “Are you going to be okay here by yourself until we get back?”

  “I’ll be fine. Your mom will be home shortly. I called her at work and told her Tyrone was here so she’s leaving early today.”

  I stepped further into the room and gave Grandma a tight hug around the neck. “I love you, Grandma Gladys. I hope you never leave me.”

  “Ah, don’t worry about that, baby,” Grandma replied, patting my hand. “I’m not planning on leaving this world anytime soon. But whenever the good Lord sees fit to call me home, I’ll still be with you in spirit. Now, gone on with your brother and have a good time, okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “We’ll be back soon. Enjoy the rest of your TV show.”

  Tyrone was already outside waiting for me in his white Ford Mustang. I jumped into the front seat and strapped myself in. “Hey, you need to buckle your seat belt, too.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Tyrone replied, waving a hand in the air.

  “I just want you to be safe, brother.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Tyrone shifted the vehicle into gear and pressed the gas pedal.

  I ran my fingers over the smooth, red vinyl seats. I admired that car almost as much as I admired my big brother. Honestly, I’d missed being chauffeured around town by Tyrone since he’d left for college. I enjoyed being the envy of all the young girls in town while occupying the front seat in his car on our many trips to the local ice cream parlor.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, observing Tyrone making a left-hand turn in front of the Texaco station.

  “Come on, now. You know, I’m headed to our favorite hang-out. I figured you could use a banana split today,” he responded, grinning at me.

  “I was hoping you’d say that. I haven’t been there since you left home. Joshua thinks it’s crazy to eat ice cream in the winter time, but I love it all year ‘round.”

  “Me, too,” Tyrone said, laughing along with me. “Besides, it’s not that cold today anyway.”

  “Yeah, right,” I replied, burying my hands in my coat pocket. “You don’t have any heat in this thing?”

  “Nah, the heater has been out for months. Why, are you cold?”

  “Not really, I’ll be all right.”

  “Sure, you will.”

  I placed my usual order for a large banana split at the ice cream parlor, and Tyrone ordered a chocolate malt like he normally did. As soon as the waitress walked away, Tyrone placed both elbows on the table, looked me in the face, and asked, “How have things been with my little sister? How’s school?”

  “School is fine. I’m doing well in all my classes,” I replied, giving Tyrone my full attention. He’d always been a wonderful brother, and I couldn’t stand the thought of him going off to war and me possibly never seeing him again. “I’m on track to be the senior class valedictorian.”

  “What? That’s great news,” he said, raising his hand for a high five.

  I gave him a high one, and asked, “Tyrone, are you going back to college this week?”

  “Nah, sis,” he replied, shaking his head. “After I got that draft notice last week, I couldn’t concentrate in any of my classes. I figured I’d be happier if I came home and spent the rest the time with my family instead of worry about finishing a few classes. Once the war is over, I’ll go back to school and get a fresh start,” Tyrone stated with confidence.

  I stared at him, committing every detail of his features to my memory. “When are you leaving?”

  “Ah, they have me scheduled to leave a couple of days after Christmas. I don’t know why they couldn’t just wait until after the New Year, but that’s the Army for you. They don’t care nothing about family,” Tyrone complained.

  “How long are you going to be gone?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think even President Ford knows how long this war is going to last. I’m just praying to make it home alive.”

  “Are you scared?” I asked, staring into his eyes. It hurt me just knowing that I had to ask the question.

  “Yeah, I’m scared. Any sane black man would be scared to go over there and be caught in the middle of all that shooting. Even Muhammad Ali, the greatest boxer in the world, didn’t want to go to Vietnam.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to go. I wish there was some other way,” I stated, lowering my eyes. I didn’t want Tyrone to see the tears beginning to form.

  Reaching across the table, Tyrone placed his hand on top of mine, and said, “Don’t worry, sis. I’m going to be extra careful. You know I know how to take care of myself, right?”

  I nodded my head. I was feeling too emotional to reply.

  “Just keep me in your prayers, and I’ll be back home before you know it.”

  Then, I placed my other hand on top of Tyrone’s hand. I was about to ask him another question when the waitress arrived with our orders. “All right, this is what I’m talking about,” Tyrone said, sticking a straw into his chocolate malt. He took a long draw from the straw and watched me take a big bite out of my banana split.

  “Okay, we’ve talked enough about me. I want to know what’s personally going on with you, Miss Tenth Grader. Are you still keeping the boys away?”

  “I’m trying,” I replied, thinking about my altercation with Rodney Payne.

  “That’s good. Whatever happened with your friend who had the baby? What
’s her name?” Tyrone snapped his fingers, trying to think.

  “You mean Lena Turnipseed?”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever happened with her?”

  “She had a baby girl, and she’s still at the alternative school across town.”

  “Well, I just don’t want you to be in a hurry to have sex, little sister. Believe me,” Tyrone began, “it’s best to wait for some things. And you have to remember one thing if you don’t remember anything else that I say, Reecy’s cup. Girls can’t do what guys do and still be a lady,” he said, quoting a popular R&B single.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, frowning at him. “What kind of double standard is that?”

  “I don’t make the rules. I’m just telling you how society thinks. Look at your friend, Lena, as a perfect example. She got kicked out of school, and her boyfriend didn’t. Her reputation got trashed, and his didn’t. Like Betty Wright said in her song, “Girls, you can’t do what the guys do and still be called a lady.”

  I thought for a second. Everything Tyrone said was true. As unfair as it seemed to me, it was the honest to goodness truth. I wondered what my brother would say if he knew what Joyce was going though right now because of that same young dude. “Hey, I’m almost done. Can you do me a favor?” I asked, licking my plastic spoon.

  “I guess, what is it?”

  “Can you take me by Joyce’s house for a minute? She didn’t come to school today, and I’d like to check on her.”

  “Sure, I can do that. But only for a few minutes, okay?”

  “Okay, I promise, I’ll be in and out before you know it.”

  Chapter Six

  Tyrone pulled up in front of Joyce’s blue house and turned the car engine off. They were playing a new tune by my favorite group, the Jackson Five, so I waited a few seconds for the song to end. As I much as I loved Michael, all I could think about was hearing Joyce’s news.

  “I’ll wait out here and listen to the radio while you go inside.”

  “Thanks, I’ll be right out. I promise you this won’t take long.” I got out the car, closed the door, and hurried up the steps to Joyce’s front door. I knocked and waited patiently for someone to answer. I looked back at the car and saw Tyrone bobbing his head to the music of Marvin Gaye singing “What’s Going On.” He looked serious, like he was really studying the lyrics relating to the effects of the Vietnam War.

  When I turned back around, Mrs. Deloris Campbell, a beautiful woman about the same age as my mother, was standing with the front door opened. Dressed in a gray pantsuit with salt and pepper hair framing her face, she smiled.

  “Well, hi, Reecy. What a nice surprise. You can come on in,” she said, stepping aside as I crossed the threshold into the scantily-decorated living room. A huge picture of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. stood out against the dark paneling in the entryway. It smelled like she was baking fresh bread or an apple pie.

  “Hi, Mrs. Campbell, how’re you? Is Joyce home?” I glanced over at the plaid sofa set and then returned my eyes to the woman of the house.

  “I’m good, and Joyce is in her room working on something. You know where it is. Go on back there and knock on her door,” she replied, waving a hand.

  “Yes, ma’am, thank you.” I headed towards the rear of the house. Joyce’s family home was smaller than mine. They only had three bedrooms and one bathroom. However, it was sparkling clean every time I came to visit.

  I tapped on the door a couple of times and waited for Joyce to answer. I could hear music playing in the background and wondered if she was actually working on her homework. “Who is it?”

  “Hey, Joyce, it’s me, Reecy.”

  “Come on in.”

  I opened the door, stepped into the small room, and closed the door behind me. Joyce was sitting Indian style in the middle of the twin-sized bed with an open textbook resting on her legs. The brightly-colored floral bedspread caught my eye while the smooth sound of William DeVaughn singing “Be Thankful for What You Got” played softly on the radio.

  “How can you study with that music playing?”

  Joyce shrugged her shoulders. “It doesn’t bother me. I can’t study when it’s quiet.”

  “Well, how did it go today?” I asked, leaning against the door.

  “Not too good. The antibiotics he gave me don’t seem to be clearing up the infection that well. The itching came back, and I’m having a yellowish discharge with some spotting. But he changed my prescription today. Now I have to start all over again and do ten days straight on the new pills which seem to be bigger than the first ones I had to take, if you can believe it.”

  “That’s too bad, Joyce. I was hoping this episode was over with.”

  “Nope, it’s still a long ways from being over. I’m just biding my time until I can take a pregnancy test. Apparently, they have to be careful about the medicine they give me because they’re not sure whether or not I’m pregnant.”

  “That makes sense. If you are pregnant, they don’t want to hurt the baby. How long before you’ll be able to take the test?”

  “The doctor said by the time I finish taking the new set of pills, he should be able to find out something. Until then, I’m just waiting.”

  “Have you heard anything from Rodney? Has he tried to contact you at all?” I asked, already knowing the answer, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

  “No, that fool don’t want nothing to do with me. He’s still in denial about his condition. I hope he leaves it untreated until his thing falls off,” Joyce snapped, releasing a short laugh.

  “Maybe he hasn’t experienced any of the symptoms yet or either he’s choosing to ignore them.”

  “He’s probably just ignoring them. But that’s okay. I hope he keeps on ignoring them until it’s too late. Then, he’ll be sorry for ever spitting in my face and calling me out of my name.”

  “I know that’s right. I still can’t believe he did that. He just thinks he’s better than anybody else.”

  “If my brother was here, he’d take care of Rodney.”

  “Yelp, Alfred would knock him out for sure. Joshua was ready to punch his lights out for putting his finger in my face.”

  “Oh, I wish he had. I would have been cheering and clapping like we do at the basketball games.” Then, Joyce asked, “Why don’t you come over here and sit down?”

  “I’m in a hurry. I have to get going.”

  “What? How’d you get over here, anyway? Did you walk?”

  “No, I can’t walk this far. Tyrone came home today. He took me to get ice cream, and I asked him to stop me by here to check on you. Why didn’t you come to school after your doctor’s appointment?”

  “I just didn’t feel like it. I started to come, but Mom was fussing at me so bad about having to pay for more medicine and stuff. I broke down and started crying big alligator tears. When she couldn’t get me to stop boo-hooing, she drove me back to the house. I’ve been in my room ever since listening to the radio and trying to study,” Joyce replied, rubbing her forehead.

  “Well, I’ve got to go. Tyrone is sitting in the car waiting for me. He’ll be blowing the horn in a minute.”

  “Ah, I wish you could stay longer. Why don’t you sit down for just a minute, Ree?” Joyce asked, sliding off the bed.

  “I wish I could, but I promised Tyrone I’d be in and out before he knew it. I’ll call you later when I get home.”

  Joyce walked me to the front door, gave me a hug, and waved at Tyrone who’d shifted into the passenger’s seat. Watching me walk towards him, Tyrone placed a sly grin on his face.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, staring at him.

  “I’m gonna let you drive while I ride shotgun. How about that?”

  “Really?” I asked, getting excited. I’d been begging Tyrone all summer to teach me how to drive. Rushing to the driver’s side, I jumped in and slammed the door closed. “Okay, what’s the first thing I need to do?”

  “Well, you could begin by turning the key to start
the car,” Tyrone responded, adding a quick laugh.

  “Wow, I can’t believe you’re letting me drive your car,” I stated, turning the key. I listened to the smooth-sounding car engine for a second before flashing a smile at my brother. I checked to see if Joyce was still standing in the doorway. I wanted my best friend to share this special moment with me, but Joyce had disappeared inside the house.

  “Ah, press down on the break, shift the car into drive, and give it a little bit of gas. Keep your eyes on the road, and hold the steering wheel real steady with both hands.”

  I did as instructed, thinking, Man, you’re a great brother. I’m really going to miss you.

  *

  The next afternoon on the school bus, I slid into the seat beside Joyce, and said, “Guess what? Tyrone let me drive his car yesterday when we left your house.”

  “No way, get out of here,” Joyce replied, shaking her head. “There’s no way Tyrone let you drive his Mustang as much as he loves that car. And you can’t even drive.”

  “I can now. Well, at least a little bit. It was great,” I stated, sticking out my chest.

  “Man, I wish my brother was here to teach me how to drive,” Joyce said, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Don’t worry about it, once I learn how to drive, then I’ll be able to teach you.”

  “Really? Do you really mean that?” Joyce asked, grinning at me.

  “Sure, what are best friends for?”

  “Thanks, Ree. I can’t wait. When is he going to let you drive again?”

  “I don’t know. He was just having a real good day yesterday. I think he’s feeling sorry about leaving me to go overseas to war.” I glanced out the window at the green sports car passing the school bus and then turned back to Joyce. “How’s your brother doing? Have you heard from him lately?

  “Yeah, I get a letter from Alfred about once a week. He doesn’t talk much about the actual war. He just tells me about all the guys that he’s met and how much he misses the good ole United States. I guess things are really different over there.”

  “It’s hard for me to imagine what it’s like. I can barely stand to see it on the news. Anyway, let’s talk about something else I heard in school today.”