Chino Hills Hoodrat

promises

"Little Ms. Palmer." she said as her eyes scanned over me.

There, in all her glory, stood Nana Williams, Keem's mom. Her frail frame stood at just an inch shorter than me. Her clothing that once wrapped around her as if they were made specifically for her now hung from her like the drapes of a window. Her permed hair lied stiff barely reaching the bottom of her ear lobe. She blew smoke from the cigarette lodged in between her fingers, into my face casually.

I turned my head to the side, avoiding the smoke. "Hi Nana. Keem in there?"

"You've come to steal my son huh?" she joked.

"Never that." I sent her a smile.

"You love him or something?"

"Of course."

"Bless your poor soul." she shook her head. "He no good, just like his damn daddy."

I ignored her spill, "Is he in there?"

"Come in" she held the door open.

I walked into the house. I'd only been here a few times recently. But in my younger years, it could've been a second home to me.

Nana was best friends with Kenya's mother at a time. She was well kept, and bright. She had her issues with men always, but Keem had a mother who loved her son dearly. We were in and out Keem's house like it was nobody'd business. From tag as child, to spin to truth or dare as teens, this was our sanctuary.

The closet is where I had my first, second, and third make out session with Armani. The doorstep is where I decided Armani never loved me, as I watched him kiss Becky Santana. And Keem let me cry on his shoulder for the following eight days on his bed. I'd never forgot that.

This was where Jayo and Kenya fell in love. The couch they shared their first kiss on lied there. But it happened to be the same couch my mama would steal Keem's mom on too. We, Keem and I, were far too young to understand as we watched from the kitchen as our mothers snorted a white substance. We were maybe 12.

I had gotten used to my mother's fanatics by that time. I knew the 'white sand' made her crazy, and Jaxon was mine to keep. I understood to an extent of what that sand was capable of and I didn't want in for Keem's mom too. Keem didn't deserve that.

We made these plans. Keem would find the packages and flush them when his momma was out for work. And it worked for a time. But the day Keem got caught, he came to school with a black eye. And we decided it was above us now.

"You a spittin image of Loretha I swear." she looked me up and down. Loretha was my mother.

"They say that."

"Girl, stop standing like it ain't your home too." she moved to the hallway, banging on door, "Hakeem, it's someone here to see you!" she yelled.

"Can you believe this boy selling, and won't cut his damn mama a discount." she laughed, like it was something funny. "You thirsty?"

"I'm good." I cringed as I watched her drink from an obviously dirty glass.

The music stopped, and the door to Keem's bedroom opened. He stopped in place as his eyes landed on me. "Why you not in school?"