S1Ep10: I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T

Versace “Sachi” Johnson

I get up at four in the morning. If I think about how tired I am, I won’t get out of bed, so I don’t think. I just do.

Morning pee. Ho bath. Brush my teeth. Tie up my braids and throw on some leggings and a sweatshirt.

We’re running low on bananas. I make a note as I grab the second to last one, and mix some preworkout in a water bottle. Downing that, I refill my water bottle and take a sip as I’m locking our house down like Fort Dix.

I’m only going down the street, but still.

I put on some gospel as I make the three-quarters-of-a-mile drive to the gym and park right in front. The gym is twenty-four hours, and no one is really here at this time, but even if it’s packed, this is the only time I can go.

I spend the next hour working out my entire body. Arms, back, abs, and legs. Then I do another hour on the elliptical machine to a compilation playlist of Megan Thee Stallion and Ken The Man.

I’m back home before six-thirty, drenched in sweat and ready to tackle another day.

My first stop, after dropping off my empty water bottle on the kitchen counter, is my baby’s room. 

He’s still kicking the covers off of him throughout the night, but he only recently started really staying in his room. He’s growing up, and I hate it. I love it because now, since he’s ten, I can do more things like go to the gym early in the morning, or put him in activities that don’t require my time, but still.

He’s my baby.

Why is he getting older?

I lick my lips before I bark, “Franco! Time for school!”

He flinches as his eyes tear open, before they focus on me and he smiles.

My son’s smile could light up the darkest places.

“Morning, Mom.”

“Good morning,” I smile. “I’ma shower, but when I’m out you better be up.”

He nods as I leave his doorway to grab my robe and do my morning routine.

Franco must have went to sleep at a decent hour last night, because after I’m showered and moisturized, he’s ready to shower himself. I dress quickly, since as manager at Millard’s, I have to be professional. White collared shirt, buttoned to my neck. Today I’m wearing black wide legged slacks that cover the slippers I have at work. I got them taken in at the tailor, and they so damn fire, I could wear them out.

If I ever go out.

But my best bitch is back. Onyx isn’t really a social girlie, but that’s all right with me. I’d rather go out with her, because then when she’s ready to go, we can go. My other homegirls don’t understand the idea of not staying out all night.

They don’t have responsibilities like me.

I brush back my flyaways and shake out my wig with the straight bangs. It’s long, but I roll the hair into a bun at the nape of my neck and run the flat iron through the bangs, and it’s still really cute.

Franco’s scarfing down the last banana when I leave my room. He grabs his backpack and rushes out of the house while I open a couple of windows to air it out and set the alarm.

It was the first big purchase I made after my promotion. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been living here; in fact, everyone knows it’s just me and Franco, and muthafuckas will take if they catch you lacking. My alarm is top notch, and the ass whooping you’ll get once I catch up with you is even better.

Franco must have swiped my keys like he always does, because he’s in the car and it’s warmed up by the time I turn the last lock on our front door. I wave to my neighbors before I get in, pull out of our driveway, and coast down the block toward Franco’s school.

“I’ma get you from Miri’s house all this week. That homework better be done before then, Mister Man.”

He bobs his head. “I got you, Ma.”

“And don’t give your TT Onnie a hard time, if you see her. I know how you can get.”

He smirks at me, and damn if he doesn’t look just like his daddy.

“Miri said she’s nice. He said he heard Uncle L tryna run game.”

“What y’all know about runnin’ game, boy?” I cackle. “Both y’all need to stay out of grown folks’ business.”

Franco shrugs as I get into the drop-off line. “Miri said he wants her to be his new mom. He said he’s been wanting it since he was a baby.”

“And how would Miri know that? TT Onnie’s been gone since before both y’all mannish asses were born.”

“Yeah, but not really. You guys always talk about her. And there’s pictures of her everywhere. I think it’s ‘cause he just likes her better than Butta’s mom.”

My lip curls thinking about that bitch, but I shake it off when I catch Franco snickering at me.

“I’ll be nice to TT Onnie. She did the apology, so she’s good with me.”

“My man.” We tap knuckles, since last year he told me he was too old for a goodbye kiss.

See? Breaking my heart.

“Have a good day. No cussing!” I yell as I pull up to the gate and he flies out of the car.

As soon as I’m out of the school zone, I turn that dial up so that my bass is knocking, and put on that new Shotta as I make my way to Crestview Mall.

Morning shift starts at nine. Before I got back into the gym, I’d stop and get breakfast, but now I keep granola in my office. I answer emails, eat something, and prepare my notes for my team huddle.

At nine-oh-one, we have our team huddle. I’m hard on my team, but they know if they meet quarterly goals, we have a ball, so they fuck with me. Especially the girls that have been on since I’ve been here.

One of them, Tisha, had to have emergency surgery, so I’m taking her evening shifts this week. But I don’t mind, because she more than pulls her weight.

My granny was so disappointed when I came home pregnant at seventeen. It was just me and her on her fixed income and my part-time job, and now I was adding another mouth to feed. She didn’t care that I was in love, or that I had a plan. Plans fail, she said. My mama had a plan, and look where she was.

She was scared I wouldn’t be shit. But my baby wouldn’t have a grandparent that gave a fuck like I did.

I worked hard to prove to her that I got it. Even though she’s been gone for years, every day I’m proving that becoming a teen mother didn’t end me.

And I thank God for the little support system I do have, that allows me to have this job that I surprisingly love.

Black and L, no matter how stupid niggas can be, have always come through for me and Franco. Probably because L had a son around the same time, but I won’t complain. My baby never went without when I couldn’t pay for it, and even ended up with a built-in best friend.

Stupid as hell, with one of them becoming a jailbird, but as solid as they come. They could have cast me out when Onyx left, but they didn’t. They held onto me, and though I’d never say shit to they dumb asses, part of my success is owed to them.

Which is why I let Black talk to me like he ain’t got no sense, and why I love on Miri and Butta as much as I can.

I smile to myself as I look over the email that Corporate sent. Onyx would be a great mother to Miri. Shit, Onyx was almost his actual mother.

Black would never let them get together. But shit, he was about to be sent up the creek anyway.

At lunchtime, I grab a Mediterranean salad and close my office to take a nap. Tisha’s section is the men’s section, and if I’ma be parlaying with customers, I need my energy.

Dontaé’s texted me a few times, but I haven’t been responding. 

I don’t even know why he still bothers with me. It’s gotta be a Southern thing. A Kenton nigga woulda been moved on, especially one with money.

But not Dontaé.

He talks about a future. About me quitting my job, and him meeting Franco, and us being a family.

He’s on it, bad, but I can’t.

I refuse to involve Franco in any more foolishness. These niggas can play with me, but not my baby.

Now, Dontaé is fine, paid, and got a big ass dick, so I’m never gonna just cut him off. But all that other noise he talking about, I wish he would stop.

Knowing he has no qualms about making Big Swole come up here to hand me a phone, I finally reply and tell him I’m working late.

He responds immediately.

Woadie: I kno u got PTO . Im takin u n lil man to turks when the season over

I smile despite myself, before I tuck my phone back in my pocket. I only keep it on me in case Franco needs me, though nowadays, I’m fairly certain he’s fine with the two buffoons.

In a perfect world, I’d be down. Dontaé is laidback, has values, and I know he’d even take Franco under his wing.

But I’d rather be safe than sorry.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, and before I know it, my feet are hurting. I made a commission on an Amarni suit, and the mall is closed. One of my girls, a stud who swears she’s my keeper, walks me to my car, since it’s just us.

I make quick work of the drive to Sutton Avenue, and park on the curb. I don’t live on the same block as Onnie and them, but I might as well have, as much as I was over here.

Since it’s late, I amble up L’s lawn and knock on the door.

He doesn’t answer right away, but when he does, I can’t help but beam.

“I got him,” he says, walking past me with a sleeping Franco in his arms. He puts him in the backseat for me and straps him in.

“He did his homework?”

“Yup. I checked it myself. He can just spend the night for the week if that’s easier for y’all. I been doing better at getting him to school on time.”

“Unt unt,” I snicker. “I want that perfect attendance record and I’m not foolin’ with you. If anything, you need to be letting Miri come with me.”

L rolls his eyes. “He told me you too damn loud. Shit, I be hearing yo ass all the way from here.”

I curl my lip at his mean ass. He know he wrong.

“Whatever.”

“Ay.” 

He pokes my shoulder and I turn before I get off the curb.

“Onyx fuckin’ with anyone? Some nigga called her phone–”

“Shit, foreal?” I beam. Dontaé’s cousin Nino Brown is mean as fuck and damn near mute, but he’s paid, and based off that one girl he brought to Dontaé’s birthday party a couple years back, I know Onnie is his type. My girl deserves to level up.

I fold my arms and smirk at L. “Do yo homie know you questioning me about his sister?”

“I mean, you can answer me and I can keep watching Franco whenever you need,” he shrugs, smug as fuck because he knows he got me.

Deep down, I know he isn’t an asshole like that, but I can’t take my chances. Besides, I don’t have any real tea, so it’s not like I'm lying foreal.

“I’on know shit. But if she is fucking with someone I may or may not have introduced to her, then good for her. She deserves better than the lame ass, flaw ass niggas she’s unfortunately had feelings for during her lifetime. Especially the last two.” I arch my brow, hoping he catches my drift.

L chuckles and backs away. “Glad to see y’all back two peas in a pod. Have that maid of honor speech ready.”

“Yeah, yeah, nigga.” He cost me my bestie with his friendly dick ass. Love him for how he looks out, but fuck him, foreal.

And his whoreish baby mama.

Franco thankfully wakes up just enough to get out of his outside clothes and collapse onto his own bed. It would be better for him to spend the night at L’s, but I’m selfish.

I want my baby with me. Even if I get home later. I want us together.

He’s all I know.

Well, almost.

A tap on my window wakes me out of a sleep I wasn’t getting anyway. Grabbing my gun from my nightstand, I ease to my window, and sigh when I look through the shutters. 

“Go to the back porch,” I hiss.

“O-okay,” a shaky voice answers from outside.

I curse myself internally over and over again. As I put on pants and a robe. As I grab clean men’s clothes from my closet and a stick of cheap deodorant and lotion. Holding all this stuff to my chest, I pad as light as I can toward the back of the house.

The motion light is already on, and I take a quick detour to grab the body wash from the bathroom before opening the back door as quietly as I can and stepping onto the back porch.

There he is. Standing in the light of the motion sensor. Dirty. Chapped lips. Tattered clothes.

He raises a hand and waves, a small smile twitching on his face.

Looking just like his son.

“H-hey, Sachi.”

There’s a familiar tremor in his voice. He’s not on his meds. I move as slowly as I can, so he sees every movement. Bending down and easing everything onto the concrete steps. Keeping the gun tight in my grasp.

“You ain’t stepping a foot in here dirty as fuck.”

“I know.”

I nod, and grab the hose from the side of me, and turn on the nozzle. He takes a few steps back, and hisses when I blast him with the cold water.

He takes off the tattered clothes and lets himself get saturated.

I turn the nozzle off and throw the soap at him, and watch as he bathes himself.

Ten years ago, Alexander Hamilton Mackenzie was that nigga at Crestview High School. Most of the time, niggas around us were that nigga because they played ball, or got to the money.

Not Alex. He was that nigga purely off having a cute face and a better personality.

Nigga was the captain of the debate team. The debate team. Six feet, caramel skin, deep set eyes, and was smart as the fuck.

And he loved my ass. A girl who didn’t even learn to read foreal until middle school. A girl who used to get teased because she had a designer name and wore thrift store clothes.

He never cared. He tutored me in whatever. He’s the one who put me and Onnie on about getting a mall job for the discounts. 

He was the one who taught me there was more to life than South East Kenton.

Then, in twelfth grade, someone laced his blunt. He hasn’t been the same since.

The worst of it was when I was pregnant. He went off the deep end, and his parents sent him away.

Nowadays, he roams the streets so he doesn’t have to take his meds.

But he’s Franco’s daddy. So regardless, meds or not, he knows if he needs a bath, and a meal, and a hug, he can come when Franco’s asleep.

“I’m ready.”

I blink away the past and turn the hose back on to wash the soap off him. When he’s clean, he grabs the towel that was hanging on an old clothes line and dabs himself dry before I toss him the deodorant, lotion, and clothes.

Only when he’s clothed, do I let him inside.

While he shuffles to the bathroom to brush his teeth, I grab some socks and shoes and set them by the table before making a couple sandwiches.

He smiles broader as he comes into the kitchen, but I just slide him a plate and sit at the table with him.

“You look good, Sachi. How’s Benjamin?"

He’s always been the only one to call Franco by his first name. Long before that insufferable play, Alex harped on the great American thinkers that were never presidents. Alexander Hamilton, who he’s named after.

It was only fitting that his first son be named after Benjamin Franklin. Everyone else figured it was ‘cause I love money.

Not an ode to my personal nerd.

“Benjamin’s good. The shit at football. Doing all his homework. Just getting him ready for middle school next year.”

He nods as he devours his sandwich.

“How are you, Alex?”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m good. They got a new therapist at the shelter. I, uh, lost track of time tonight, but I’m there most days.”

“Yeah? What about your meds?”

He averts his eyes, and I already know he’s gonna lie to me.

“I’m thinking about it. But you know the fuck with my head, Sachi. I’m no better on them than I am not on them.”

“Uh huh.” I stand and go to wrap the other sandwiches. “It’s gonna get cold soon. What are you gonna do this winter? You ain’t coming around here off them meds. Bad enough–”

“I’ll figure it out,” he grits, silencing me. I glance at the gun as a precaution. Alex has never hurt me, nor Franco, but he’s flashed out too many times, destroying shit, for me not to be armed around him.

He must notice me freezing because he sighs and stands. I hand him the sandwiches after he puts on the new socks and shoes. He takes the sandwiches and pockets them, before he opens his arms.

And like always, I fall into the embrace.

I don’t tell him I miss him. I don’t tell him I wish he’d get on his medication. I just hug him, and let him sniff me. He smells like soap and him. My Alex.

When he lets me go, his smile is brittle.

“Thank you, fly girl.”

I push out laughter at my old pet name. I was the fly girl to his nerdy ass.

“Be safe, Alex. Please.”

“I will. Tell Benjamin…” he doesn’t finish. He just shuffles out the back door.

I grab a trash bag and gloves. When I get outside, he’s gone. I grab the soiled clothes and put them straight into the trash bins in the back of the driveway.

Damn, how I wish shit was different. All the ifs swarm my head as I get in the bed. If Alex would just take his meds… If he never smoked that laced blunt… If I never got pregnant–

That’s where I stop. Because no matter what, no matter how hard I have to rub two pennies together. No matter how lonely I get at night. No matter how bad my attitude will be in the morning since I’m definitely not going to sleep any time soon. No matter how sad Franco gets when I explain to him why Alex seeing him may set him off…

I’ll never regret my son. Just like I’ll never regret the little time I had with his father, when we were in love.

When he was my nerd. And I was his fly girl.