Jazzy Zigzagin' Blues: A Poetic Novel

By Dalvin Clifford

Love aint even really about love. Half of its a damn lie. Mary and Rainbow, friends since childhood, have been through everything together, and nothing has ever been able to tear them apart as they mature and find themselves in relationships and constant soul-searching. Through memorable characters, such as loudmouthed Candice, opinionated Miss Real, shy little Dookie, lovesick Miss Billy, and more, some funny, others insightful, they learn how to navigate in life. Mary realizes her jazzy poetic way with words at an early age, but a secret from the past that tore her mother and aunt apart is slowly doing the same to her until the explosive night when everyone is forced to face it head-on. Rainbow has longed to be loved for as long as she could remember but is considering washing her hands of love altogether after finding herself yet again left heartbroken and confused, until a man from her past returns ready to give her all that shes been missing. In his thought-provoking, coming of age, poetic debut novel, Dalvin Clifford expresses how day-to-day blues must be overcome in order for one to prosper. A sassy yet humorously honest story that dives headfirst into issues of love and forgiveness, Jazzy Zigzagin Blues is guaranteed to take readers on a journey they will never forget.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 14, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496930040

Dalvin Clifford

Dalvin Clifford was born and raised in Sacramento, California. He became serious about writing while attending Monterey Trail High School where he would compete in poetry competitions and write short stories in his spare time. Among the long list of authors who inspire him are Toni Morrison, Terry McMillan, and Eric Jerome Dickey. When he isn’t reading and writing, he enjoys cutting hair and listening to music. He currently serves in the military as an administrative specialist and wrote much of this book while stationed in Japan. He hopes that his writing can help keep poetry alive and give readers a feeling that they are not alone by creating characters with issues similar to their own. He currently lives in Virginia where he is working on his next novel.

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© 2014 Dalvin Clifford. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 08/04/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4969-3003-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-3004-0 (e)

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Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1 Combed and Greased

Chapter 2 Mary and Rainbow

Chapter 3 Dookie

Chapter 4 First Day of Sixth Grade

Chapter 5 Silence and Secrets

Chapter 6 Rekindling the Flame

Chapter 7 Rudy Short Shorts

Chapter 8 Shay

Chapter 9 Twinges of Jealousy

Chapter 10 Uncovering the Truth

Chapter 11 Serious Fixing

Chapter 12 Popped upside the Head

Chapter 13 Taking a Day Off

Chapter 14 Aunt Aditi

Chapter 15 Rudy’s Party

Chapter 16 Father Abandonment

Chapter 17 Advice from Hector

Chapter 18 Midnight Madness

Chapter 19 A Deep Longing

Chapter 20 Free

Chapter 21 The Fight

Chapter 22 The Grace of a Sunflower

Chapter 23 The Aftermath

Chapter 24 Changes

Chapter 25 Tutoring

Chapter 26 A Mother’s Worry

Chapter 27 Aditi’s Great Escape

Chapter 28 Write It

Chapter 29 Dipping Out

Chapter 30 Open Mic Night

Chapter 31 A Day at the Mall

Chapter 32 Double Date

Chapter 33 What Are Women Good For?

Chapter 34 The Single Date

Chapter 35 The Funeral

Chapter 36 Dwelling

Chapter 37 As I

Chapter 38 Live and Learn

Chapter 39 Beauty Shop Gossip

Chapter 40 Prom Night

Chapter 41 High School Graduation

Chapter 42 Friends in New Places

Chapter 43 Judy’s Blues

Chapter 44 That Summer

Chapter 45 Love in the Frozen Aisle

Chapter 46 Melvin’s Blues

Chapter 47 Her First Time

Chapter 48 Reggie

Chapter 49 Crossing Paths Again

Chapter 50 Changing Scenes

Chapter 51 Running Away from It All

Chapter 52 No More Naps, 1992

Chapter 53 Moving In

Chapter 54 Why Do Men Lie?

Chapter 55 Devonte’s Blues

Chapter 56 The Pizza Man

Chapter 57 True Intentions

Chapter 58 Reginae’s Blues

Chapter 59 Miss Billy’s Blues

Chapter 60 The Bodyguard

Chapter 61 Good Old Soul Food

Chapter 62 Lollipopping

Chapter 63 Advice from a Five-Year-Old

Chapter 64 The Dinner

Chapter 65 Parent Visit

Chapter 66 Leave It to the Night

Chapter 67 Daisies, Sunflowers, Roses, and Lilies

Chapter 68 Spelling

Chapter 69 The Grand Opening

Chapter 70 Let Me In

Chapter 71 Extra Weight

Chapter 72 Anita’s Blues

Chapter 73 The Ice Run

Chapter 74 Keeping It Real with Miss Real

Chapter 75 Out in the Open

Chapter 76 Jazzy Zigzagin’ Blues

Author’s Note

About the Author

To Aunty Denise and Uncle Myron,

Who gave everything they had to ensure that I had everything I needed

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank God for giving me the ability to take my thoughts and express them creatively. Aunty Denise and Uncle Myron, thank you for adopting me and my sisters and keeping us all together when we would have been separated in foster care. I’m forever thankful. To the rest of my family, I love you all, and I can’t wait for you to read what I’ve been working on for years. Thank you for your patience. I would like to thank Ms. Buford, my creative writing teacher at Monterey Trail High School, who was the first person to say on one of my graded writing assignments, Dalvin, I hope to see your work in print one day. I never forgot that, and I never will. I would like to thank everyone at AuthorHouse Publishing, many of whom I may never meet in person, for your interest and determination in making this book the best that it could be. To anyone who buys or reads this book in the days to come, thank you for allowing this book, my dream, to be a part of your life. I hope that you are able to take something from it, be it a smile, laughter, wisdom, or strength. Know that if no one else does, I care about you. Thank you.

Chapter 1

Combed and Greased

Sacramento, California, 1980

"Ow! You’re hurting me, Mama!" Mary screamed as she sat on an old pillow, locked between Anita’s legs, getting her hair combed and greased.

Child, it wouldn’t hurt half as much if you’d sit your narrow behind still, Anita told her daughter as she applied a dime-sized amount of beeswax to another section of Mary’s naturally coarse hair. As tired as she was of the little girl fussing whenever it was time to get her hair combed, Anita understood her daughter’s pain. Though Mary had been begging her mama to let her get a perm or at least hot-comb her hair like all the other brown girls at her school, Anita refused to give in. Her mother had explained to her when she was just Mary’s age herself that heat, chemicals, and such only weakened black hair, leading to hair breakage and sometimes hair loss altogether. Virgin hair, as her mother, Delorah, had often called black hair never exposed to hair straighteners, such as relaxers, was the healthier way to go as a young girl’s hair follicles continued to mature.

As if Mary had somehow heard her mother’s exact thoughts at that very moment, she tried again. Mama, can I get my hair straightened?

Anita stopped combing the kitchen of her daughter’s thick mane only for a second before responding, Child, you already know the answer to that one. Ya’ better go on somewhere with all that.

Why not, Mama?

Anita reminded herself to be patient with the young girl as she responded, My mama ain’t let me straighten my hair at your age, and I won’t do yours, either.

Mary said sharply, But your hair is straightened now.

Her sassy tone threw what little patience Anita still had out the window, and she popped her daughter’s head hard with the handle of the comb and yelled, Mary, don’t you sass me!

Yes, ma’am, Mary mumbled as a fat tear rolled down her cocoa-brown cheek. With the help of a brush dipped lightly in a mixture of water and beeswax, Anita slicked her daughter’s now combed-out hair into one big Afro puff, which she fastened with a satin ribbon that would match the pretty red dress Mary would be wearing to school that day. She smoothed a few rebellious strands back down before tapping Mary’s shoulder lightly, signaling that her work was done. Mary flew up as if her little behind had caught on fire and quickly left the room heading to her bedroom in the tiny two-bedroom apartment that the Harrisons lived in.

I pressed ya’ dress. It’s hung up on the door handle. Hurry up and put it on now so you can eat something before you go to school, Anita called after her child. She then sat back in her reclining chair for a moment as she took in her surroundings.

They didn’t have much. Secondhand furniture and pictures in cheap wooden frames filled the living room, but it was theirs, and that meant a lot to Anita. Her eyes locked on a picture of her husband, Mary’s father, Paul Harrison. In the photo, his face held a wide smile, as if he were the luckiest man on earth. With his hair cut in an attractive close-cut and his mustache neatly trimmed, Anita had to admit that she was a lucky woman herself. Unfortunately, with the passing years, the two had become so engulfed in making ends meet and providing for their eleven-year-old daughter that they weren’t making time for each other anymore. Anita now worked as a maid in a newly established hotel close to home, and Paul worked long hours at a car-repair shop owned and operated by Mr. Duggs, who also happened to be their next-door neighbor. He was married to a woman named Showanda. They had a little girl the same age as Mary named Rainbow. While Mary and Rainbow were very close, like sisters, the relationship that their mothers shared was hardly identical—if one could even call it a relationship.

Showanda called herself a stay-at-home mother, but Anita had never seen a stay-at-home mother like that in all of her thirty-four years. The woman don’t cook or clean, and she dang sho’ don’t keep her loose butt at home, Anita had often thought to herself. How did she know? Mr. Duggs would often rant complaints to Paul at his car shop. Paul would then tell Anita, who usually insisted she would not tell a soul. According to Mr. Duggs, his wife was often gone all day long shopping, playing bingo, and even dining out, all of this with his money, of course. There were nights when Mr. Duggs would make it home before she did, and he didn’t close his shop until nine some nights! With all the complaining Mr. Duggs did about Showanda, he was proud of the fact that she was now pregnant with what he hoped would be the baby boy he’d always wanted. Anita couldn’t bring herself to understand how that man stayed around with a wife like that. Now what kind of wife don’t even have dinner cooked for her husband when he comes home from work? Anita had asked her girlfriend Candice on multiple occasions as they dished out the dirt together, discussing all the town gossip, telling everybody’s business but their own.

Humph. You got me on that one, sistah, Candice had replied with a grunt so aggressive her wig had shifted before adding slyly, but I will tell you one thang though. She better watch out! They gots a whole bunch of fresh young gals running around that’ll scoop that man right out of Showanda’s manicured hands. I ain’t lying, child! If I was just a little younger without all these stretch marks, I’d scoop that fine man up myself! They both laughed at that.

Anita was still laughing as she yelled, You just out here acting a fool, girl!

Candice smiled, but her face still held the same sly look as she responded, Mark my words, girl, because I’m thirty-eight and you thirty-four. We know what time it is! Ain’t no man with his head screwed on tight about to take more mess from one woman than he can from another. Showanda ain’t but a baby her dang self, so she probably don’t recognize that, Candice added.

That woman is twenty-nine. She ain’t too young, Anita said.

Well, she ain’t twenty-one; her hair ain’t no less nappy than ours, and her skin is ashy without a coat of petroleum jelly, so as far I’m concerned, her cards are just the same as us, and if she don’t watch out, she ain’t gon’ have that hardworking man much longer! Now is we gone play cards or what? Candice asked.

Feeling more heat in the air than she would have preferred, Anita had decided to shut her mouth on the topic and show Candice yet again why she was known as the pity pat champ.

Chapter 2

Mary and Rainbow

Mary stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom taking in the fullness of her appearance. She was rather tall for her eleven years, at least compared to the other girls in her sixth-grade class.

Her teacher, a pleasant-looking tiny black woman in her mid-twenties, had asked her just last week with joking astonishment, Mary, how much taller can you get?

Mary had smiled at the halfhearted statement then, but the core of the words made her feel tremendously uncomfortable. She had never really felt that she was the same as the other young girls at her school. They weren’t so tall or even as athletic as she was. The reason it bugged her was because all the guys seemed to like them, often going out of their way to tease the girly girls who could never catch them in a game of tag or match them in a competition of basketball. Mary could though, and rather than be admired or liked among the young boys, she was put down as a tomboy, which one particular class clown had called her after pointing out that her hair looked like a boy’s ’fro. Of course, this had hurt Mary very deeply and increased the dislike she’d already grown for her hair, height, and way of being altogether.

Mary probably would have completely resented school if it hadn’t been for Rainbow Duggs. They’d been tight ever since the summer before fifth grade when Mary’s parents had told her they were moving into a two-bedroom apartment where she would finally have a room all to herself. She’d been more than excited, but words could not describe her happiness when they’d gotten to their new home and she had met Rainbow. Rainbow was everything Mary had longed to be at that time. She was pretty, not too tall, and her hair was nice. They’d gone swimming at the public pool on many occasions, and Mary had watched Rainbow’s hair frizz up the same way as her own natural hair did. However, to her dismay, Rainbow’s hair would always be nice again the next day when she’d come to get her to play at the park or go get ice cream.

One day, Mary’s curiosity got the best of her, and she asked, Rainbow, how your hair be getting all straight like that?

Rainbow had simply shrugged her shoulders, looking at Mary’s hair as if it were a clump of weeds in a beautiful garden. I don’t know, she finally responded. My mama just puts some kind of creamy stuff in it every now and then. After a while, my head starts burning real bad and she rushes me to the sink to rinse it out real fast, Rainbow added.

Oh, was all Mary could muster back in response. Mary knew Rainbow looked up to her mother a lot.

She would often tell Mary when they were out walking or playing two-square, My mama is so pretty. She bought a nice black dress today. My daddy paid for it. Mama told me to always look for a man that will take care of me and treat me like a princess, just like my daddy does her. I told her that I don’t think the boys is like that at our school. All they ever care about is stupid video games, and they ain’t never got more than a couple dollars for lunch. Rainbow said this with much certainty, swatting her long eyelashes.

Dookie ain’t like that though, huh? Mary asked Rainbow in a teasing voice. She knew, like everyone else in the sixth grade knew, that Rainbow loved her some of that boy. Dookie’s real name was Charles. No one called him that though, at least not since that one morning in the fifth grade.

Because Rainbow was so pretty and nice to everyone who didn’t cross her, boys tended to cling to her like a bee to honey. Even at the young age of ten, she didn’t care about any of those stupid boys though, only Dookie—short, quiet, and nerdy little Dookie.

When she and Mary had just begun their friendship in the fifth grade, rumors had begun to buzz among the young children that Rainbow and Dookie had a thing for each other. At first, it had begun as a simple thing. Kids would walk by Rainbow, singing, Rainbow and Dookie, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage!

Rainbow would fake annoyance while secretly toying with the idea of being friends with Dookie. However, what Rainbow failed to realize was that her politeness, her pretty little hairstyles, and her confidence had accumulated her quite a fan base where young boys were concerned. To them, unlike the other girls, she never had cooties, and even if she did, it was fine and dandy because they were Rainbow’s cooties. They pushed, shoved, and played mean to get Rainbow all to themselves. As for Charles, well, he’d simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Chapter 3

Dookie

On one particularly cold winter morning as Charles made his way to his fifth-grade class, he was stopped by three sixth-graders. They were extremely troublesome boys named Craig, Mark, and Teddy. They were often in the center of trouble for stealing, fighting, or for just being plain incompetent. Charles had looked at them curiously only for a moment before attempting to walk around them. However, to his great surprise, Mark, the quickest of the troublesome trio, blocked his path almost effortlessly. While Mark was the fastest of the three boys, his voice was the highest. It often cracked uncontrollably when he spoke as he tried to hide the ever-existent stages of puberty. However, he was not one to be mocked or made fun of, at least not to his face. He’d served many kids in their elementary school with the fist for even cracking a smile when he spoke.

He looked at Charles for a moment before he said in his squeakiest voice yet, Well, well, what do we got here?

Craig and Teddy laughed at the worried look that had formed on Charles’s face. Or was it Mark’s voice that had humored them so?

Charles was trapped. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew he didn’t have time for these games. He’d had a problem with one of the math questions in his homework the night before and wanted to get to his teacher early that morning for help. Deciding to try to carry this moment along faster, he asked nervously, Wh … Wh-What are you talking about?

His stuttering triggered more laughter from the three boys as well as a small group of curious kids who were beginning to surround the four boys. We’re talking about those twigs growing from your head, chump, Craig said coldly.

Charles had a black mother and a white father. He’d never met his father and had been raised by his mother Lourise alone. He’d gotten his mother’s skin tone of light brown but had his father’s wild, often untamable hair. It was a garden of loose spiral curls. Each curl seemed to have a life of its own, as they all sprang in different directions. While his mother found his hair to be adorable, Charles resented the kind of attention it got him. Like right now.

Before Charles could blink his eyes, Craig and Teddy each grabbed one of his legs. Craig held Charles’s left leg, and Teddy held his right. Mark grabbed his back, and together, they held Charles upside down as he screamed for dear life.

The crowd of elementary school kids had now grown rather large, and giggles mixed with exaggerated Ooooohhh’s made many think it was simply a game between Craig, Mark, Teddy, and poor, poor little Charles. Charles felt blood quickly rushing to his head. His vision grew hazy, and he became more fearful with each passing second that they would drop him right on his head. He was so overtaken that he forgot to control certain releasing parts of his body. With little control of himself, Charles let a large fart.

At first, the onlookers and the trio of trouble simply laughed, fanning their noses to kill the foul odor. Dang, spiderhead, watchu been eating? Teddy had finally spoken. He violently shook Charles’s right leg, which he held as if holding the boy upside down wasn’t cruel enough.

As he shook, a massive brown clump escaped the back of the pants Charles wore. It hit the pavement with a plop, and a random voice from the back of the crowd yelled, Eww, he just dookied in his pants, y’all!

As the smell spread even more, the crowd began to thin out, but not before Mark squeaked, Nice one. Try to get Rainbow now, Dookie! The crowd erupted with laughter as Charles was dropped lightly to the ground by the three boys.

On that day, Dookie became his official name. As humiliated as Charles felt, he quickly realized he had a bigger problem on his hands. The boys had carelessly dropped him in his very own droppings, which now decorated his clothing. He certainly wouldn’t be making it to class early that morning.

Chapter 4

First Day of Sixth Grade

I’m about to walk to school, Mama! Mary yelled to her mother with one foot already out the door.

You gon’ walk by yourself? Anita asked.

Mary quietly sucked her teeth because her mother knew dang well she wasn’t walking by herself. Every morning, she stopped at Rainbow’s apartment and they walked together. To Mary, it seemed like her mother found any reason to hold her up by either asking her questions with obvious answers or by telling her to do something just when she was heading out the door. She knew her mother was just getting started. Wait a minute, child. I wanna see ya before you leave.

Mary felt that her mother was a very beautiful woman with strong features, such as her attractively round nose and full lips. Her skin, a dark shade of chocolate, shone radiantly without makeup, and she rarely wore it. She walked toward her daughter, holding her robe closed with her hands because its tie had long ago come off. She wore a white scarf over a head of thick black hair rolled up in countless curlers.

Look at my baby! She in the sixth grade now, lord! Anita began.

Mary looked at her mother and couldn’t help but laugh at the ragged robe and curlers she now wore. What’s so funny, baby? Anita asked her daughter as she smoothed out the red dress she’d bought Mary just for today.

Nothing, Mama, Mary lied before saying, I really gotta go before Rainbow leaves without me. Mary knew Rainbow would never do such a thing, but she had to tell her mother something or else she’d never be set free.

Anita nodded her head and then said, All right, let’s go then. I want to see what Rainbow’s wearing today anyway.

As much as Mary didn’t want her mother to step outside looking the way she did, she knew that there was nothing she could do to stop her.

With her mother close behind, Mary knocked on the Duggses’ apartment door. Mrs. Duggs opened the door with a look of impatience at someone interrupting her sleep. However, her face quickly softened as she saw that it was Mary. Well, good morning, Miss Mary, she said.

Mary smiled politely and responded, Good morning, Mrs. Duggs.

Showanda Duggs gave a fake smile as she addressed Anita, Well, good morning to you too, Anita. She smiled humorously as she took in the sight of her neighbor. That sure is some robe you got there, Anita! Ha-ha. I understand though, honey. I don’t look too hot myself on laundry day. I mean, I assume it must be laundry day for you because why else would you be wearing that? she asked with another fake laugh.

Defeated and mad