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Authors: Jacqueline Woodson
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on me like you’re still my babies.” She moved away from us and took off her coat. “I love y’all both to death,” she said, putting it on a chair beside her purse. “But you’re a little big to be pulling on me so.”
She sat down on the couch heavily and pulled me into her lap. I was way too big for laps. I knew that. But me and my whole family made believe that I wasn’t. Grandma put her other arm around Sean.
“What’s this I hear about Wilt Chamberlain?” Grandma asked Sean.
Thirty thousand points, Sean signed. He had a huge grin on his face.
“And he’s the first black man to score that many?”
He’s the first any man! Sean said. In NBA history.
“Well, ain’t he something,” Grandma said.
“Argh, that’s nothing. If I was in the NBA, I’d score sixty thousand,” I said.
And then you’d wake up, Sean said.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with the two of you,” Grandma said.
“Grandma, you know this white cat’s in my class now. People calling him Jesus!”
Grandma closed her eyes a moment. “Frannie, some days I have no idea what you’re talking about. What cat ?”
“You know, cat, like person. You call a person a cat.”
“Is it a cat or is it a person?” Grandma asked. “Because if it’s a person, why are you calling him a cat?”
“Grandma! That’s the language! That’s what you say. It’s the seventies! That’s jive talk.”
Grandma just laughed and looked at me.
“Maybe you should concentrate on learning some English first. Before you start learning jive talk . And what’s this about Jesus?”
“That’s what they call him. Because he looks like Jesus—I mean, that’s—”
“You don’t want a piece of my Bible on your head, now, do you, Frannie.” Grandma’s face was starting to twist into the face that wasn’t so patient.
“No, ma’am. I’m not the one saying it. It’s other cats—I mean kids.”
Why would Jesus come to your school, Sean said.
I shrugged. “ I’m not the one saying! I told you that. It’s other kids.” I started getting mad myself. The trouble with this family was you had to explain too much!
“You know the world’s changing, Frannie. I don’t want to hear about you messing with that boy just because he’s white.”
“Oh, just forget about it!” I folded my arms and moved off Grandma’s lap.
“Come on back here with your stubborn self,” Grandma said, pulling me back. “Don’t go getting mad now. You just remember there’s a time when each one of us is the different one and when it’s our turn, we’re always wishing and hoping it was somebody else. You be that somebody else when you see that boy. You be the one to remember.”
“I know that already,” I said, not looking at her. “A million times I know that.”
“Good,” Grandma said. “That’s good. Just keep knowing it.”
Our living room was starting to get dark—the gray sky coming in all dim through the big windows behind the couch. We hadn’t turned on any lights and the TV was off.
For some reason, we just all three sat for a long time like that without saying anything else. After a while, I felt myself relaxing a little. It felt like there was a hundred million things being said all at the same time. Only you didn’t need words or signs or face expressions to say them with. I put my head on Grandma’s shoulder. It was warm and soft. She smelled like lavender and coconut hair grease.
I stared out the window. Snow coming down like feathers. You be the one to remember.
Sean leaned against Grandma’s arm and let out a long sigh. After a while, we all just fell asleep that way.
12
The phone rang early Sunday morning and Mama answered. I’d seen the light flashing but had just walked by it on my way to the bathroom. The light was for Sean—he had his own special kind of phone that let you type in what you were saying and messages came back to you. He didn’t spend much time on the phone, though. I heard Mama telling
She sat down on the couch heavily and pulled me into her lap. I was way too big for laps. I knew that. But me and my whole family made believe that I wasn’t. Grandma put her other arm around Sean.
“What’s this I hear about Wilt Chamberlain?” Grandma asked Sean.
Thirty thousand points, Sean signed. He had a huge grin on his face.
“And he’s the first black man to score that many?”
He’s the first any man! Sean said. In NBA history.
“Well, ain’t he something,” Grandma said.
“Argh, that’s nothing. If I was in the NBA, I’d score sixty thousand,” I said.
And then you’d wake up, Sean said.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with the two of you,” Grandma said.
“Grandma, you know this white cat’s in my class now. People calling him Jesus!”
Grandma closed her eyes a moment. “Frannie, some days I have no idea what you’re talking about. What cat ?”
“You know, cat, like person. You call a person a cat.”
“Is it a cat or is it a person?” Grandma asked. “Because if it’s a person, why are you calling him a cat?”
“Grandma! That’s the language! That’s what you say. It’s the seventies! That’s jive talk.”
Grandma just laughed and looked at me.
“Maybe you should concentrate on learning some English first. Before you start learning jive talk . And what’s this about Jesus?”
“That’s what they call him. Because he looks like Jesus—I mean, that’s—”
“You don’t want a piece of my Bible on your head, now, do you, Frannie.” Grandma’s face was starting to twist into the face that wasn’t so patient.
“No, ma’am. I’m not the one saying it. It’s other cats—I mean kids.”
Why would Jesus come to your school, Sean said.
I shrugged. “ I’m not the one saying! I told you that. It’s other kids.” I started getting mad myself. The trouble with this family was you had to explain too much!
“You know the world’s changing, Frannie. I don’t want to hear about you messing with that boy just because he’s white.”
“Oh, just forget about it!” I folded my arms and moved off Grandma’s lap.
“Come on back here with your stubborn self,” Grandma said, pulling me back. “Don’t go getting mad now. You just remember there’s a time when each one of us is the different one and when it’s our turn, we’re always wishing and hoping it was somebody else. You be that somebody else when you see that boy. You be the one to remember.”
“I know that already,” I said, not looking at her. “A million times I know that.”
“Good,” Grandma said. “That’s good. Just keep knowing it.”
Our living room was starting to get dark—the gray sky coming in all dim through the big windows behind the couch. We hadn’t turned on any lights and the TV was off.
For some reason, we just all three sat for a long time like that without saying anything else. After a while, I felt myself relaxing a little. It felt like there was a hundred million things being said all at the same time. Only you didn’t need words or signs or face expressions to say them with. I put my head on Grandma’s shoulder. It was warm and soft. She smelled like lavender and coconut hair grease.
I stared out the window. Snow coming down like feathers. You be the one to remember.
Sean leaned against Grandma’s arm and let out a long sigh. After a while, we all just fell asleep that way.
12
The phone rang early Sunday morning and Mama answered. I’d seen the light flashing but had just walked by it on my way to the bathroom. The light was for Sean—he had his own special kind of phone that let you type in what you were saying and messages came back to you. He didn’t spend much time on the phone, though. I heard Mama telling
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