“Why y’all here? Come to put something on my books?” Ed frown up. “You still my damn mama,” he say. She hunch her shoulders and say, “Nigga, if you say so.” Ed just shake his head, but he ain’t fazed by how mean she being. I came to tell her I’m pregnant. To get some encouragement or some words to make me feel better. We just sit there, all dumb and shit, then I just spit it out, “I’m gonna have a baby.” Her eyes get wide, like she proud of me. Then she say, “I guess you ain’t as dumb as you look.” I start crying and Ed stand up, put his hand on my back, and pushed me out of there. I look back at her and she laughing. That’s when I choose. Cause I know Ms. Pierce wouldn’t never say something so mean. I ask him if he can take me up to Farren to see her.

Thirty-Three
The Living & the Dead

October 22, 1999

Saw Ms. Pierce today. Me and Ed go up to Farren, and the school look the damn same. Even smell the same. The butter from them damn lunchroom cookies hit you in the face as soon as you in the school. We go to the main office. It’s some of the same people in there. This lady I couldn’t never stand say, “Buchanan?” like she can’t be seeing right. I know she seen what happened to my family on the news.

She looking up at Ed, all scared. Guess she think he come to get me back in they stupid school. “Ms. Pierce here?” was all I said, cause I ain’t got time for this. She jump on the phone, call up to the classroom. I’m so nervous. She hang up, say, “No answer.” She got this nice-nasty smile. I roll my eyes, snatch away.

We about to leave, but I tell Ed, “I’ll be back.” He sit in the office, and I walk out, and up the stairs to where my old classroom at. On the second floor, some ladies standing on the other end of the long hallway, just talking. I’m walking up on them. Then, I hear Ms. Pierce voice holler, “My baby!” My eyes start stinging. She way down the hall, but she got that can of Pepsi in her hand. I know her walk. She always switching. Still ain’t got no hair. She hug me, and say it again, at the top of my head, “My baby. I’m so happy to see you.” I turn my face, look up at her, and ask, “For real?”

“I didn’t forget you.” I smooth out my weave. A new habit now that I got hair. She squeeze me tight. Then when she let go, here come that question, “You living?” I don’t know what to do with it, so I ask, “What you mean?”