A lot of boys did this, but she noticed him specifically because he was white. There were barely any white people in her neighborhood … unless you counted that lady from India but she was blacker than regular black people even if she had white people's hair.
"Here comes that white boy on his bike," she said.
Jalissa squinted. And as the figure grew closer and reached the front parking lot Jalissa scowled.
"That's Scotty. I bet he stole that bike."
Vanessa looked at her in surprise. "You know him?"
"No!" She hollered in outrage. "He is white trash. They say his mama sales her coochie on Vine Street!" Jalissa hid behind the curtains and yelled out the partially opened window. "White boy! Whatchu doing up here?!"
Vanessa gasped and hid behind the curtains too. She peeked out but the boy didn't appear to have heard them. Jalissa continued to yell at him calling him whitey, honky, cracker as he continued up the second hill. He wasn't really a boy in the sense that he was older than them probably already a teenager.
Vanessa's heart was pounding. She had never called anyone names like that and her face felt hot. She knew it was wrong but it was exciting listening to Jalissa cussing.
Soon Scotty came back down the second hill and Vanessa called out trying to think of something to say. "I see you Scotty but you don't see me! Haha!"
Jalissa slapped her arm and hard. "Why did you say his name?!" She hissed.
Scotty turned his head in the direction of their parking lot for the first time acknowledging their calls.
He never stopped pedaling but she heard him clear as day, "You better turn out your light. Your mama's coming," and then he was on his way back down the hill to Winton Terrace.
Vanessa's eyes widened when she saw Her mama's Cadillac heading up the hill.
"Oh my God!" Vanessa scampered away from the window seat and hurried to turn out the light.
"He saw us!" Jalissa squealed.
"No we were behind the curtain-" Vanessa stated.
"But the light was on, so he could probably see us!" The girls quickly scampered into bed. There was school tomorrow and they were supposed to be in bed by nine—regardless of whether or not her mama was home.
"Scotty is going to beat me up … " Jalissa whined.
Vanessa was scared. That boy knew who her mama was. That meant he also knew who she was.
II
The next day at school Vanessa stayed on her Ps and Qs. If Scotty was going to beat her up then it would happen at school, which is the only opportunity that she got to spend any real time playing with her peers. Vanessa looked forward to a time when she was old enough to enter the big building for more than just lunch and library. But for today she felt lucky that the older kids had class in the main building while her schooling occurred in one of the many trailers made to accommodate all of the children that crowded the ghetto. Next year she would be in the seventh grade and would finally move into that building which held a type of mystique for her. For now the drafty trailers with a window fan in summer and space a heater in winter was all she knew about school.
Vanessa listened to Mrs. Broachcamp talking about apartheid which she knew was like slave times. She knew about slavery because her and her mama had watched a show called Roots on TV a few months ago. She felt guilty that she had made fun of a person just for being white. People used to make fun of her for having long hair and not looking black enough even though she wasn't light skinned at all.
Vanessa had a milk chocolate complexion with dark eyes and hair. But she also had a narrow nose and 'good' hair.
'Your Daddy white?'
'No. My Daddy's black!'
Her mother had told her that her father had Indian in his blood but that he was black and beautiful—only he died when she was still a baby. Black was beautiful. Everybody talked about how proud you should be of being black and how they had come from King's. But when you didn't quite fit into that mold you were left feeling not quite as beautiful.
She should never have made fun of that boy because he was different. He probably got it worse than she did. She never liked the way it felt when people pointed out her 'white people hair' and her narrow nose. For a while she had stuffed tissues into her nostrils hoping to stretch them but when her nose began to hurt and she sneezed blood she was forced to stop.
At recess Vanessa hurried to the girl's clubhouse, which was under the stairs of one of the abandoned trailers. It was one of the few times during the day that she got to hang out with Jalissa who had been held back one year so she was in the fifth instead of the sixth grade.
There was a girl's 'gang' and they were eight strong. Girls needed to band together for protection against the boys so all of the girls kept together during recess. Otherwise something bad could happen like what the boys had done to the new girl that had joined her class.
Donald Miller had caught the girl alone behind the trailer and had made her pull her dress up and her panties down and then all of the boys had taken a look at her. Girls didn't even wear dresses to school just for that reason. Why didn't the new girl know that even if she did come from a different school?
The girl never returned to school and none of the boys had gotten into trouble over it because no one could say which boys had been involved. For that reason the girls stuck together because now the boys were even bolder. Now the boys wanted to play tag and instead of hitting you they grabbed your booty or pinched your chest.