Chapter Ten - Jeremy

“So Mommy and Papi met your model-girlfriend,” Lovelie said when I answered her call.
“Do you need something?” I asked her, not in the mood for her judgment.
“Yes. I need you to go see Dr. Francois. He has a new prescription for your condition.”
“Mwen konprann,” I said, receiving the coded message. “Anything else?”
Lovelie snickered. “Maybe he can prescribe something for your girl to get her weight up.”
I sucked my teeth.
“I heard this one is skinny enough to hula-hoop through a Cheerio. But she’s light, just like you like them. You sure know how to pick’em, bro.”
“How’s that situation with Ricardo and the young bartender?”
This time Lovelie sucked her teeth. “There was no situation. She made the whole thing up.”
“So you’re just gonna stay in denial about your husband not only being a whore, but a whore who chases younger women?” I said, getting back at her.
“Something you know all too well, huh? Anyway, like I said, she made it all up, and the only reason you can’t stand Ricardo is because he managed to pass the bar and Papi is trusting him more and more with the properties.”
Lovelie was partially correct. I hated that I was a college dropout. Lovelie excelled in school, earned an MBA, and won even more of my father’s trust and approval. Then she brought Ricardo into the picture. Dude was weird. He creeped older women out and intrigued the younger ones. It was strange. There’d been many incidents throughout their relationship where Ricardo had been accused of cheating or pursuing younger women. He always denied it, and Lovelie always found a way to forgive him or sweep his shit under a rug. My parents weren’t crazy about him, but he completed law school and passed the bar. The closest thing to a second son, Papi trusted him to represent him in court and keep his paperwork legit. Meanwhile, I was an errand boy for Uncle Marvin and Lovelie, delivering cash and messages regarding arms shipments.
“I’ma see Dr. Francois tomorrow,” I said, changing the subject.
“Good,” said Lovelie.
“I’ll call you after.”
“Jeremy,” Lovelie said, prolonging the conversation. “Don’t let this one get you fucked up out here. I’m talkin shit about her weight, but really, I heard her father is a big deal where they’re from—”
“He’s the minister of education. It’s not anything to worry about.”
“You never know,” Lovelie went on. “Holding any office, especially on a small island, makes you connected. Don’t do anything stupid that could get us—”
“Nobody’s getting deported. Did we get deported before? No. So fèmen bouch ou.”
“Oh oh!” Lovelie said with shock.
I sucked my teeth. “I told you I’ll see the doctor tomorrow, and I will call you after. If you don’t have anything else for me, I’m hanging up.”
Lovelie sucked her teeth once more. “Good night ti fre.”
“Bon nwi.”
After some reheated leftovers and a long shower, I rolled a joint and called Marsha.
“Hello, good night, Jeremy,” said Sheila.
I chuckled. “You Antiguans and Jamaicans always end the conversation before it begins. Good night, Sheila. May I speak to Marsha, please?”
“Yes, but first mi want to know—”
I held the phone away from my face while I sighed heavily. “What would you like to know, Sheila?”
“What are your intentions with muh cousin?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Yuh know what mi mean. Are you plannin to marry her? Or are you gonna start playin her now that you got what you wanted?”
“Got what I wanted?” I held the phone away from my face once more, as if I’d figure out what she meant by looking at the receiver.
“Yuh know what mi mean,” she repeated in a lower tone. “What all men want.”
I knew what she meant.
“It’s not like that,” I explained.
“Taaalll. Marsha may be naive, but I am not a fool, Jeremy. Remember, is my friend yuh deal wit before yuh even meet Marsha.”
“And that was different.”
“What’s the difference?” Sheila pushed.
“I love Marsha,” I admitted.
Sheila was quiet for a moment before finally saying, “You better. If you mishandle her, there will be hell to pay, Jeremy.”
I rolled my eyes. “I hear you loud and clear.”
Without another word to me, Sheila called out for Marsha to come to the phone.

*****

Jeremy looked down at his paper schedule. Communications 101 was to begin in five minutes, and he had no idea where his class was. He hated asking for directions. As much as he tried to work on his accent, people always asked him at least twice to repeat himself. He watched students rush past him, like they knew where they were going, and he wished he could blend in and look as confident as they did. He sighed and figured he would check the name of every building on campus if that’s what it took.
He’d passed four buildings before finally reaching the building he was supposed to be in. He was ten minutes late—fifteen by the time he reached his classroom. His skin was clammy with sweat, and his throat was dry from breathing heavily. The classroom had two doors, so Jeremy attempted to enter through what he assumed was the back door, but it was locked. He jiggled the handle a little, but nothing happened. He could hear laughter on the inside of the room. His stomach churned at the thought that he was possibly the butt of the joke. He made his way to the other door and opened it. Eighteen sets of eyes, including the instructor’s, landed on him. “Eskize m,” he rasped, though he’d attempted to clear his throat before speaking.
The instructor, a balding blue-eyed white man, peered at him over his round frames. “Mr. Anthony, I presume?”
Jeremy nodded.
“Class began seventeen minutes ago…” his voice dragged as he looked at his roster again. “Mr. Jeremy Anthony.” He then snickered. “How’d you get two first names?”
Jeremy looked around at his classmates, who looked amused. He was also scanning the room for an empty seat. “I apologize for being tardy,” he said. “Can I sit, please?”
“Oh, and there’s an accent! Where ya from?”
Jeremy shrugged.
“You don’t know where you’re from?”
Jeremy grew even more aggravated. He took accountability for showing up late, but the instructor was now wasting his own class time. “I’m from Florida, sir.”
“No way, there’s no way that accent came from Florida, boy.” The instructor let out a hearty laugh, and the rest of the class followed. “Where were you born?”
Jeremy cleared his throat again. “Haiti, sir.”
“Oh, you’re one of those,” the instructor muttered. “I think there’s a seat in the back. Hopefully you can catch up and keep up, as this is a communications class and English doesn’t appear to be your first language.”
Jeremy finally made his way to the back of the room and found a seat next to a copper-toned beauty. She had her notebook out and had already written some things down. Jeremy looked up at the board, but there was nothing there. He took out his own notebook and peered over at the young lady’s page, trying to see what she might’ve written down, in case the information was pertinent.
The young lady looked up at him with indignation, so Jeremy smiled, hoping to warm her up to friendliness. Instead, she seemed even more annoyed and edged her notebook closer, hovering, so that Jeremy could not see what she’d written.
With that, Jeremy sighed and sat back in his seat. By the end of class, he hadn’t been completely deterred by his classmate’s attitude. “Hey,” he said to her as they rose to pack up and leave.
She eyed him suspiciously.
“Obviously I’m new around here,” he said, slowly enunciating his words.
The girl shifted her weight from one hip to the other. She was indeed beautiful, from her blemish-free complexion to her compact coke-bottle shape. Jeremy could smell Spearmint coming from her slightly parted lips. She tickled his fancy alright, but that wasn’t why he was speaking to her in that moment. He went on, “And you see the way that pwofesor was talking to me.” He slipped, and just as he tried to catch himself, the girl held up her hand. Jeremy paused.
“I don’t date Haitians,” she said as she turned her nose up and skirted around him.
By the time Jeremy turned around, she’d skittered out of the room. He looked down at his schedule. He had thirty minutes before his next class. He had time to take lunch off campus. After his belly was full, though, he decided he’d had enough of this college business. Before the day was over, he was discussing with Uncle Marvin how he would admit to his parents that college was not for him.