House of Cars Page 4

  We kissed until Sierra stopped, stepped back, and looked at me. Her face had turned bright red and mine probably was too. She smiled and then turned away and said in a sweet soft voice, “See you, Nyl,” and with that, she walked off.

  I smiled from ear to ear. I could still feel her lips on mine; and they felt soooo good. I watched Sierra until she got inside her brother’s car and they drove off. She looked back at me and waved. I waved back. I could get used to this real fast. I thought about Rihanna’s other video that I liked; the Stay video. I pictured me being the guy singing in the video, and Sierra being Rihanna. Something in the way you move…I want you to stay….I sung to myself.

  Pops finally pulled up and I walked to the ride with a smile on my face. I wasn’t so hungry anymore.

  Chapter 7

  I watched Sierra’s brother as he turned on Fairley Road then I go toward our truck. There are still some cars on the parking lot. I imagine it’s full of happy parents coming to pick up their kids or some of them just left the game.

  “There he is,” I hear my little sister shouting. “There’s Nyl,” she shouts again as I get closer to the truck.

  “Hey, Pops. Hey, Nyla,” I say when I get in.

  “Hello, son,” Pops said and we bumped fist.

  When Pops spoke, I think I smelled liquor, and I gave my pops a strange look. Pops looks then reaches down on my side and picks up a small brown paper bag that probably had liquor in it; I can’t be sure. He puts the bag in the glove compartment. All of this because Momz died? Will he ever realize that he still has me and Nyla? Sometimes I think he just plain doesn’t care.

  I know not to say anything out of line, or he’ll put his fist in my mouth. Ask me how I know, and I’ll tell you that it’s happened before a couple of times.

  One thing I can say about Pops, is that when he does drink, he still pretty much acts like he’s sober. I’m glad the cops haven’t pulled him over for anything, because that would be another huge mess if he has an open bottle of liquor in the truck, or if they smelled alcohol on his breath.

  “How was your game, son?” Pops asks when I get in the SUV.

  “It was good.” I told him my stats for the night, which made him crack a smile. Pops had been my biggest supporter. He was like my coach and my mentor in the sport of basketball. He used to play on his high school varsity team. Pops even got a full basketball scholarship; that’s how he was able to go to Florida State University. Before Momz died, me and Pops used to spend a lot of time together. He taught me all about basketball, talked to me about girls, told me things that he said would help me be a better man as I grew up. Dang, I wish we had those days again.

  “Did y’all win?”

  “No, sir. We lost by two points. Coach said it was because we weren’t focused out on the court.”

  “Guess what, Nyl?” Nyla tapped my shoulder from the back seat. She looked just like our Momz. Dark, thick hair, coffee-colored skin, and long eyelashes that covered her coal black eyes like a cape. It’s a good thing the natural look is in, because if it wasn’t for her wearing her hair in one big afro puff, sometimes two, she would look a hot mess, because me nor Pops knew anything about taking care of a girl’s hair.

  It was easier for me and Pops to keep our hair together because he had clippers packed in the back of the Yukon with the rest of our belongings. We would find places with an electrical outlet, like a gas station rest room or a department store bathroom and he would cut our hair. I would give him a line and he would give me one. But Nyla, well Pops did the best he could to keep her together. He washed her hair whenever he could and every single day or night he made sure we stopped somewhere to wash up.

  “What’s up, Nyla?”

  “Guess what, Nyl. We had Popeye’s Chicken, and Daddy got some for you too. And then he stopped at the liquor store.”

  Man, that was the best news I’d heard in a long time, but now I knew that it was liquor in that bag Pops moved.

  “Stop talking so much. Do you have to tell everything? Girl, give your brother his food,” Pops ordered while he started driving off the parking lot. “I got paid today. I’m hoping I can get us an apartment in a few weeks, if this job goes permanent. I’ma try to get something out this way, close to yours and Nyla’s school. Fairley is a good school. I believe your mother would want you to stay here, if at all possible.”

  I swear I could see tears in Pops’ eyes. It happened almost every time he talked about Momz. So why didn’t he just not talk about her or say her name? I don’t understand grownups at times. I miss her too, but Pops was the one who drilled in me that real men don’t cry, but I guess it was easy to say and harder to do.

  Anyway, I practically snatched the bag of Popeye’s chicken from out of Nyla’s hands. I opened the bag and felt like one of those people who had just hit the lottery. I was grinning from ear to ear. Inside the Popeye’s box were two drumsticks, two thighs and two wings, a large fry, an order of red beans and rice and two biscuits!

  “Thanks, Pops! This is right on time,” I said as I immediately began to devour the spicy chicken.

  “Here’s your drink,” Nyla said and passed me a 32-ounce bottle of Peach soda, my favorite.

  “Thanks. You already ate, right?” I asked my little sister. No way could I enjoy my food if I thought she was the least bit hungry, although I was praying that she was full.

  She nodded. “I already ate, but I have some left. See,” she said and showed me her leftovers.

  Thank you, thank you, thank you, I said to myself.

  “Nyl, I’m proud of you. I wish I could have been at the game tonight, but after I got off work, I picked up your sister we rode around looking for some potential places to live. Me and her ate inside Popeye’s. Had us a little father-daughter time,” he said looking over his shoulder, he smiled back at Nyla. “Isn’t that right, Nyla?”

  “Uh huh, and we had so much fun,” Nyla said.

  I laughed while taking another huge bite of my juicy chicken and a spoonful of my red beans and rice. It was the best food I’d tasted in a long, long time.

  We drove past Wal-Mart and I looked over at Pops. “We aren’t parking there tonight?” I asked as we kept driving, heading toward the interstate.

  Pops shook his head as he drove. “I got us a room for the night at the Motel 8 over on Brooks.”

  Boy was I glad to hear that. It was already freezing outside and sleeping in the Yukon, or any vehicle in the cold was horrific. The remainder of the ride was full of Nyla’s chit chat about school and her friends and her teacher and the field trip she needed money for by Thursday or she wouldn’t be able to go to the Orpheum to see some stupid ole play, at least it sounded stupid to me. I tuned her out and transferred my thoughts on Sierra, oh, and my Popeye’s chicken.

  Chapter 8

  When we got to the Motel 8, I couldn’t wait to get out of my clothes, take another shower, and watch some TV. Motel 8 was a cheap, run down, motel that looked like nothing but hoodrats and prostitutes hung out, but at least it had two beds. Pops slept in the hotel chair whenever we got a room, but sometimes me and him had to sleep together because there wasn’t always a chair in the rooms we got. I hated when me and Pops had to sleep together; it just didn’t feel right to me. But Pops said Nyla being a little girl, she needed to sleep in her own bed.

  I know I promised Sierra I would call her and I still planned on doing it, but it would have to wait until Pops and Nyla were sleep, because I didn’t want to get into trouble. I didn’t feel like hearing Pops yelling and going off.

  “Pops, do you think we’re going to move into an apartment soon?” I asked him while he stretched across the bed. Nyla was in her bed, playing with her Barbie doll.

  “I’m praying, son. This job doesn’t pay much. In fact, it’s a long way off from what I used to make, but I do have a chance of getting hired on permanent. They like my work and they have my resume’ showing I was in management. Something is going to give for us, son. I promise you that.”<
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  Pops looked at me and I looked at him. I wanted to believe him so bad. I knew that tonight when I went to bed I was going to pray like Momz had taught me. I was going to beg God to please, please help my Pops and help us get a place to call home.

  “Pretty soon, you’ll be able to get a job somewhere. Especially when it gets warm. Maybe you can sell newspapers or clean off peoples’ yards, do something. I got my first job when I was sixteen at a Popeye’s Chicken,” Pops said and started chuckling. “I know you can’t work in Memphis until you turn sixteen, but that doesn’t mean you can’t find a way to make some honest money. You know what I mean? That way you can have something of your own. Maybe have some money to get yourself your own cell phone or a new pair of jeans and a shirt every now and then. I know you miss having some of those things, son.”

  Pops sounded like he really understood how I was feeling. “That’s cool. I wanna make some money. I don’t mind working,” I told him. I want to have some money lining my own pockets.

  “Yeah, you got to help out in this family too, but until you can, just keep balling and keep your grades up.

  ”Yes, sir.”

  “Nyla, go get your bath. It’s time to get ready for bed.”

  Nyla didn’t say a word. She jumped off the bed, grabbed her Dora the Explorer backpack, and ran into the bathroom.

  “Nyl, I know this is hard for you, living like this, not knowing where you’re going to lay your head from one minute to the next, but son, believe me when I tell you that I’m trying.”

  I sat at the foot of the bed and listened as Pops kept on talking. I guess the liquor I smelled on his breath must have made him want to talk. I didn’t know which it was. I was just glad that my old Pops was back, at least for a while.

  “Nyl, it’s hard out here for everybody. We may have Obama as president but it doesn’t change the fact that people are losing jobs and homes every day. That’s why I want you to do your best in school, son. I know I haven’t been the best dad lately. So much has happened that you wouldn’t understand, but I want you to know that I love you. And I’m going to make things better for you and Nyla. That’s a promise.”

  It felt good hearing Pops talk. I believed what he was saying, and I was glad he was telling me that he was going to make things better.

  Nyla came out of the bathroom running and ran straight for her bed, jumped in it, and pulled the covers up to her chin.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Pops said to her. I knew what he was about to say and Nyla did too because she got back out of the bed and got on her knees.

  “Now I lay me down to sleep; I pray to the Lord my soul to keep; if I should die before I wake; I pray to the Lord my soul to take. Amen,” Nyla said and then hopped back in the bed.

  Pops stood up and walked over to her bed. “That’s my girl.” He leaned over and kissed Nyla on the forehead. “Sleep tight; don’t let the bed bugs bite,” he told her and started tickling her.

  I watched the two of them and couldn’t help but laugh myself. For a minute, it felt like everything was back to normal.

  “You can watch whatever you wanna watch on TV, son,” Pops said and then turned and looked over at Nyla.

  It didn’t take long for Nyla to fall asleep. I found a basketball game on television and Pops got up and went into the bathroom to take his shower and shave. It was the perfect opportunity for me to text Sierra.

  I pulled out my phone. When I heard Pops turn on the shower, I texted her.

  “Whaddup?” I texted.

  “Who is this?”

  “Nyl.”

  “Awe hey.”

  WYD?

  “Homework. WBU?” she texted back.

  “Watchn da game. Told u I was gon text u”

  Yea. U did.

  For the next few minutes me and Sierra texted back and forth. I know I was using up the minutes on the phone, but I didn’t care. I would have to worry about that later. Anyway, Pops said at the first of every month the phone got 250 free minutes. But I noticed while I was texting that every text took away one minute, so I had to be careful not to use ‘em all up at one time. The first of the month would be here in another week. If I could keep him from asking me about the phone then everything would be fine because that way he wouldn’t find out I was texting Sierra.

  When I heard the water stop running in the shower, I texted Sierra one last time.

  “Ck u 2moro . TTYL”

  “K,” she texted back.

  It was good to talk to Sierra. It made everything seem normal for a change.

  When Pops came out of the bathroom I guess he noticed something different about me ‘cause he asked, “What’s wrong with you? You sitting in front of that TV grinning and looking like you just won the State championship.” He laughed as he dried off his head of hair with the hotel bath towel.

  I laughed back. “I was just checking out the game,” I answered. “I hope we do go to State this year.”

  “Work hard, give it your all. It’s not impossible because y’all have a good team. Playing high school varsity ball is a little different from when you played in middle school. Each level of basketball is different and gets more intense. When I get a permanent job and us a spot to live, then I’m going to start back working with you on your game. I know you probably think since I don’t come to your games like I used to that I don’t care, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. You just wait and see, son; things are going to change for the better; real soon.

  I looked at him and nodded my head. “I know Pops. I know.”

  Pops sat down in the old looking, fading green chair next to the bed and we watched the game until I saw his head lay back against the back of the chair. He had fallen to sleep. I thought about texting Sierra again but decided I would eat the rest of my chicken and fries then I was going to go to bed too. There was no telling when we would have a chance to lay in a real bed again and I wasn’t going to miss out by staying up all night.

  ∞

  “Nyl, get up. Wake up, boy.”

  “Stop hitting on me,” I yelled and popped up in what was supposed to be a full size bed but it felt more like a cot sitting on top of a pile of steel. I looked up and it was Pops. Immediately, I was sorry I’d yelled, but hey, I didn’t know.

  “What did you just say?” he barked in his early morning, heavy voice that reminded me of a growling grizzly bear.

  I looked around, uncertain of my surroundings. “I’m sorry, Pops. I didn’t know who was hitting me. Is it morning already?”

  He nodded.

  Dang, it felt like I had just gone to sleep. I had tossed and turned most of the night. So here I was again, sleepy, tired, and just plain miserable because off and on during the night I kept hearing people going back and forth pass our door. They were cussing, talking loud, and playing music. I looked over at Nyla. She was sitting on the side of the bed, putting on her tennis shoes and singing to herself like she didn’t have a care in the world. Don’t get me wrong, hearing her singing was better than listening to her screaming and crying. But times like these, I don’t know how she did it. How could she be singing when all I felt like doing was crying, but I had to keep reminding myself ‘real men don’t cry.’

  “Get up, go get your shower and brush your teeth,” Pops ordered. “If we want to get some breakfast, you know the drill. We have to hurry up and get to St. Mary’s.

  St. Mary’s Catholic Church was one of the places we sometimes went on Saturday mornings to get a free meal without questions being asked. Only thing, we had to get there real early so we could get close enough in line before they cut it off for the day.

  St. Mary’s food was pretty good. The only thing is they always passed out the same food. It didn’t matter that it was breakfast time because we always got a meat sandwich, or peanut butter sandwich, an instant cup of soup, a soda or juice, a cookie or doughnut, a piece of fruit, and a bag of chips.

  “Nyl, it’s Saturday, and I have a lot to do today. I know you
have practice but you’re going to have to miss it today, or take your sister with you.”

  Was my Pops out of his mind? Had he been drinking this early in the morning? There was no way I could take Nyla to practice, not again. Pops needed to find somebody else to look after her.

  “What? I can’t take her with me to basketball practice, not again. I told you what Coach said the last time. If I bring her with me this time, I could get benched. What am I going to do with her?” Coach would be asking me a million and one questions, and then the team would think I was out of my mind having my little sister at practice. They would be checking me until the end of time if I showed up with Nyla tagging along behind me again.

  “You heard me,” he said again. “I volunteered to work for a couple of hours. I told you, I’m trying to make enough money to get us somewhere to live. And we have to check out of this motel; unless I get a hold to some more money for us to stay another night. Now, get up and get ready. I don’t want to hear your back talk. You’re no baby, Nyl. Men do what we gotta do to survive. You hear me, son?”

  “Yes, sir,” I answered. I heard him all right. And I was sick of hearing him talk about what he was gonna do. I wish he would take his own advice. If he hadn’t caved in like he did when Momz died, maybe we wouldn’t be having to live in our “house on wheels” or at these low class motels. No way would Momz have us living on the streets. If he had been the man he always preached to me about, I would still have my own room with all my cool stuff and a wardrobe that made the girls go ‘ahhh’. But naw, he had to break down and lose it when she died.