Ajahni’s View.
The morning was silent, remorseful. None of the girls spoke to me, and I didn’t mind the least bit. If they did try to talk to me, I brushed them off. Anastasia, Adriana and I just sat in our dorms with The Nanny playing softly in the background, the audience’s artificial laughter tempting to lift my mood but only deepening my sadness.
But what I expected to be a bad day turned into a good one.
Apparently, there was an intercom in each dorm by which Mrs. Roland or any other official could speak to us for important matters. I discovered this when the television program was interrupted and replaced by Ms. Viola’s sharp, nasal voice—which much resembled Fran’s voice in The Nanny—calling me down to the main office.
“Ajahni Nash, please report to the main office to see Mrs. Roland immediately. Ajahni Nash, please report to the main office. Thank you.”
I looked at the girls, expecting them to give me some kind of warning or expectation as to what I could possibly be called down for, but they looked just as clueless as I felt. So I left the dorm and headed for the staircase, seeing Qi peek out of her dorm to see me walk away. Maybe she was wondering what they wanted me for, too.
When I got to the brightly-lit main office, buzzing with printers beeping and phones ringing, I was told to report all the way to the back. Mrs. Roland was standing in front of a printer, evidently waiting for something to print from a computer. I stood beside her until she finally bothered to acknowledge me.
“Good morning, Ajahni,” She said, focusing still on the printer’s status.
“Good morning.” I replied courteously.
“Give me a moment here; I’m waiting for these to print and then we can head to my office.” Mrs. Roland reassured me. I nodded. It didn’t take more than just a few extra seconds before two copies of an informational sheet of paper slid out of the printer. Mrs. Roland raised her fist in success, and then hurried to her office on the opposite side of the hall. I followed her and closed the door behind me as she directed me to.
“Sit, will you?” She offered as she situated herself in her big chair. I sat in the chair directly across from hers and waited.
“The paper I was just printing—it’s your rap sheet. I made two copies so that you can keep one for yourself, if you should ever need it for court-related situations in the future,” said Mrs. Roland without looking at me. She handed me one copy of the paper, which I didn’t exactly want to read. It was indeed my rap sheet, consisting of the possible disorder that they thought I had when I entered Cedar Gardens—multiple personalities. The sheet also had most of my background information and notes on my general behavior. It said basically everything about me based on how I displayed myself, which was mostly good.
But I didn’t understand why I had it.
“Why are you giving this to me now?” I asked her, confused. Mrs. Roland peered up at me, her glasses resting on the bridge of her nose, with a duh expression. She blinked at me silently before explaining.
“Ajahni, did no one tell you what today is?” She asked.
“I know it’s Wednesday, but no one had to tell me that.”
“Ajahni, dear,” Mrs. Roland said with a sigh. “This is the day that you’re being released.”
The news was shocking. “You mean, I can leave this place?”
“Yes. You don’t ever have to come back. Your behavior here has been exceptional—we even considered enrolling you to be a mistake. You’re fine. Now go upstairs to say goodbye to your friends while the cab waits for you downstairs. The chauffeur will take you anywhere you need to go.”
Thrilled, I hugged Mrs. Roland tightly and bolted up the stairs back to my dorm. The girls were still watching the sitcom, but neglected it when I entered the room. They probably saw the wide-eyed expression on my face.
“They’re letting me go,” I smiled enthusiastically. The girls didn’t seem happy, though. My smile faded.
“That’s good for you, Ajahni.” Anastasia muttered.
“Yeah, that’s good.” Adriana co-signed. I was puzzled. Why weren’t they just as happy as I was? Better yet, why weren’t they sad that I was leaving?
“Are you going to miss me?” I asked slowly.
“Of course we are. Come back to visit some time.” Anastasia stated. But her uncaring voice contrasted completely with her statement. Without saying another word to the noticeably unimpressed girls, I left the dorm and knocked on Qi’s door. She answered immediately.
“What did Roland have to say to you?” She asked eagerly.
“She’s letting me out. She gave me my rap sheet and everything.” I announced, a little cautiously this time. But Qi’s reaction was totally different from the twins. She jumped up and embraced me tightly, letting go when I begged her to. I laughed when she released me.
“Congrats, kid! You know you’ll be missed.” She said.
“Yeah, at least you cared. The twins had a ‘whatever’ attitude when I told them.”
Qi waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t mind them. They just think that it’s your fault that Barbie’s locked up and that Mickey died. They’ll realize how stupid they were being after you leave.” She didn’t even bother to lower her voice not to be heard. I pondered on her statement for a moment…is it really my fault? I didn’t tell Barbie to kill that man, but I sure did make her feel like she had an obligation to do me. But I didn’t even know Mickey. I had nothing to do with her.
“Yeah, you’re right. Well I better get going. There’s a cab waiting for me.” I hugged her once more and took down her phone number before leaving. The phone number thing was just to be polite. I knew that there was a slim chance that I would be able to call Qi anytime soon. Leaving here meant that I was back on track, taking care of business on my own. There was no time for leisure.
The chauffeur made conversation with me in the car, and didn’t seem to care when I told him that I didn’t know where I wanted to go. He discussed city attractions with me, but I told him I didn’t want to be in the hotspots. A hotel would be nice, but how do I know I’ll be able to stay there for more than one night?
“Just take me to a motel,” I decided finally. If it was just for one night, so be it.
The motel was literally called ‘Motel’. I didn’t have to pay the chauffeur, since Cedar Gardens was taking care of it. After he said goodbye and dropped me off, I checked into the motel for just $100 a night for the cheapest room. I had that money on me, from savings prior to my enrollment into the institution and allowances they give you when you behave properly. I took the room key, put my things in the room, and then went back outside. It was just late afternoon and the sun was still out; there was no need for me to be shacked up inside.
I went outside and visited a nice pier by a near beach, seeing kids heading home with their parents since it was a school night, and couples taking relaxing strolls along the boardwalk. I walked all alone, a slight smile on my lips from the freedom I felt.
In no time, I spotted an interesting water balloon game I wanted to play. As I approached the hut, a boy crossed the path of a girl walking ahead of me abruptly.
“Watch where you’re going, idiot!” She shouted.
“Sorry, Darcelle. Dang.” The boy replied. Evidently, they knew each other. But that wasn’t important—it was her name that was captivating me…
“Darcelle?” I asked aloud. She turned back and looked at me expectantly. I caught up with her.
“I feel like I know you from somewhere…” I said to her. She squinted her eyes thoughtfully, and I continued to try to remember. All that was coming to me was a phone call and the smell of Hodgy’s perfume.
“Hey. I can’t remember your name, but you came by the store the other day searching for Roshon Solomon. This is Darcelle from Yellow pages, by the way. I found a location on him. Call me back so I can tell you everything. Bye!”
That was the message she left on Hodgy’s phone the night that Forrest took me.
“Now I remember you. You’re friends with Hodgy Beats, aren’t you?” I asked her, smiling. She shook her head. Did I have the wrong Darcelle?
No. It felt like it was her.
“I’m sort of friends with Frank Ocean, if that’s what you meant to say.”
My heart must have stopped, because so did my legs. I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at Darcelle. She looked right back at me. “What is it?” She asked.
“I’m friends with him too,” I said in almost a whisper. “But I don’t know where he is. I’ve lost him. And…you work for Yellow-pages, don’t you?”
A plan was suddenly developing in my brain.
“Yeah, I do. How’d you know?”
“That’s irrelevant. But look, do you think you could help me find him? I know he’s not in the Yellow-pages, obviously. I’ll pay you to help me.” I said, still smiling. Darcelle didn’t’ seem to be suspicious of me at all, because she smiled in return.
“You don’t to pay me. Sure, I’ll help you. Just take down my number and I’ll call you when I get a link.”
After taking her number, I imagined a situation similar to this happening with Darcelle and Hodgy. She must have left the message after he asked her to search for ‘Roshon Solomon’. There was only one mystery left in the meantime.
Who’s Roshon Solomon, and what does he have to do with Hodgy?