Ghetto Girls Too. Anthony Whyte

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       FIFTEEN

      “Are you all right, Coco? You don’t seem to be yourself today,” Ms. Katie said as looked at the bronze skinned teenager sitting across the kitchen table from her.

      Coco sat staring into the hot liquid thinking that the shower had done her well but it couldn’t rid her mind of the thoughts that had her in this mood. She didn’t feel like being around anyone but Miss Katie was not just anyone.

      Miss Katie was a mentor and someone who Coco could go to with any problem. Although tonight it felt like it was all ramble to her, Coco tried to listen as the old woman continued to speak.

      “Go ahead, Coco, sip your hot chocolate before it gets any colder.” Miss Katie watched Coco rubbing her hands against the cup. “Oh yeah, did hear that the police were up there on the sixth floor? They went to see about that Spanish couple.” Miss Katie continued her coverage of the latest gossip from the building.

      Miss Katie stayed home all day and always knew the latest gossip. She never missed a beat and most of the time there was something new to report. Miss Katie had a knack of somehow knowing everything that happened to everyone in the surrounding area. Apart from being a snoop, she was a sweet old lady and the person entrusted by her mother to keep an eye on Coco.

      On any given day, Coco would listen closely to what the old lady had to say. Her mother was forever saying, ‘Older people acquire knowledge, younger people acquire experience.’ Sometimes, it was out of duty that Coco listened to the old lady. Tonight, as far as Coco was concerned, Miss Katie was speaking pure gibberish. Nothing she said made sense to Coco. It wasn’t interesting until the old lady mentioned the TV news. Coco knew it would eventually come but Miss Katie was subtle.

      “Saw that, ah, music producer. What’s his name?” she asked. Coco couldn’t decide right away if she was feigning amnesia to get her involved in the conversation or the old lady had really forgotten.

      “You talking about Eric Ascot?”

      “Oh yeah, yeah, that’s the one,” Miss Katie said and without waiting for any further input, she continued. “Seems like someone tried to rob him and he shot the guy. Damn thug killed one of the girls.”

      “Kamilla Davis.”

      “Were you there when the ruckus was going on, Coco?” asked Miss Katie.

      “Miss Katie, you knew that’s where I went after I called you from the diner.”

      “That was yesterday, right?” Miss Katie asked but before Coco could give an answer, the old lady continued. “You gotta forgive me, girl. The memory goes when you get to be my age.”

      Coco looked at the old lady knowing she meant well. Coco wanted to say something that would make this awkward moment better. “Aw Miss Katie, you’re not that old. You’re still young.”

      “No, Coco, I’m an old lady. Come July, I’ll be seventy years old but you won’t see me taking those Botox shots or having no face lift or none o’ that plastic surgery thing. I don’t mind growing old gracefully.”

      “You’ve got quality genes. You’ll be forever young.”

      “Thank you, sweetheart. I like to think I’ll stay youthful if my heart stays young.”

      “Oh, let me find out that you dabbling in poetry, Miss Katie.”

      “No, my time is gone, Coco. I leave all that poetry and rhyming up to you.” She walked over and patted Coco’s shoulders. “You care for some of my sweet potatoes crushed in butter? I’ve got some corn on the cob and chicken smothered with bacon over there too.”

      “Hmm, hmm, that’s what smells so good? How could I say no? It sounds too delicious to pass up, Miss Katie,” Coco said as she reached up to hug the older lady. “Thanks for everything,” she said.

      “You’re more than welcome, sweetheart.”

      “You had said my mom called?”

      “Yeah, girl, you know your mom. She’s always worried about you. When she told me you had called and told her that she shouldn’t worry, you know that whole thing started her worrying even more. Oh my Lord, that lady called at least a dozen times.”

      “I hear you. I know how my mom can get,” Coco said as she sipped from her cup.

      “Coco, you know your mother is a worrier.”

      “Yep, she do be going bananas with that,” Coco added.

      “Just like my mother,” the old lady leaned closer. “My mother was born under the sign of the crab. She sure was crabby,” Miss Katie said with a big laugh.

      “Was she, huh?” Coco asked with a smile.

      “Oh, you don’t wanna hear this,” Miss Katie said with surprising seriousness.

      “But I’m sure you loved her anyway.”

      “Well, she was my mother so how could I not love her? She carried me for nine months. Plus, you only get one, child. I’ll love her always.”

      “Sometimes though, did you ever wish you could take back that love?”

      “Of course, ‘specially when she beat me with branches but the Bible teaches us that you’ve got to love your parents and honor and cherish them forever. This is so that your days won’t be made shorter. Love your parents and your days will be long on this earth. That’s what the good book says.”

      “I hear you, Miss Katie. I love my mother. It’s just that sometimes, you know, she kinda gets on my nerves.”

      “I know, Coco. We’re all human and we’ve all got weaknesses. All you got to do is lend her some of your strength. You’ve got to lean on each other. It’s a relationship. Mother and daughter, they shouldn’t give up on each other.”

      “Sometimes I just don’t know.”

      “Coco, you’re still young. You’re a teenager in high school. Don’t worry too much. Child, God works in mysterious ways. Your mother will have to carry her share of the load. You can’t do all the carrying.”

      “Sometimes, I feel like I’m the only one doing the carrying.” Coco paused and thought for a couple beats before she continued. “It becomes a burden and she blames me when anything goes wrong.”

      “You can only control the things that you’re able to and no more. You cannot control everything.”

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