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The Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois(22)

Author:Honoree Fanonne Jeffers

The crowd roared: “Ooooooooooo!” She kept striking me until I fell, then she straddled my stomach, yanking my hair, until Malcolm broke through the crowd. He pulled Antoinette off me, and she kicked at the air, but he told her nobody was going to hurt her. Stop kicking. He set her on her feet, standing between us. Soon, a teacher arrived on the scene and marched Antoinette and me down the hall and to the first floor to the principal’s office.

I was surprised when my father showed up. He told me that my mother couldn’t take off from her job. So he’d told his receptionist to reschedule his patients’ appointments. In Principal Perry’s office, my father and I were informed that I was suspended. It was Wednesday, I couldn’t come back until Monday, and further, this was going on my permanent academic record.

“But Mr. Perry, that’s not fair!” I said. “Everybody saw that girl jump me!”

“Ailey. Please.” My father put out his hand, his signature, calming gesture. “Mr. Perry, I’d ask that you reconsider your decision. Look at those scratches on my child’s face. Clearly, this was not her fault or a fair fight.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Garfield.”

“It’s doctor.”

“Pardon me?”

“I’m not a mister. It’s Dr. Garfield.”

“My apologies. I have a doctorate, too, but the kids call me ‘mister.’”

“That’s lovely, but I’m a board-certified physician. General practice, though I am trained in surgery, in case someone gets seriously hurt. And you never know when that’s going to happen.”

“Oh, I see. How nice.”

“I think so.”

Mr. Perry cleared his throat. “Anyway, my decision is final. I think I’m being very fair. The other girl is suspended as well. We have a zero-tolerance policy for violence here. I’m sure you can understand.”

My father asked me to go outside to the reception area. He would come get me soon, he told me, but he stayed inside the office for another thirty-five minutes. When he emerged, he took my hand like when I was little. In the car, he turned the ignition, before turning it back off.

“Ailey, you know I’m always on your side, right?” His baritone was low, unhurried.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“And you know you can tell me anything, and I’ll treat you fairly?”

“Yes.”

“So give it to me straight: Did you do something to that girl to provoke her?”

“You mean Antoinette?”

“Yes, her. Your principal told me, that girl comes from a very disadvantaged background and some particularly cruel kids pick on her about her clothes and the way she looks. I know that sometimes, kids can get in groups—”

“Uh-uh, Daddy! I didn’t say nothing to that girl! We don’t even speak!”

“So you’re saying she jumped on you for absolutely no reason?”

“Yeah. She just, like, snapped. I don’t even know why. Maybe she’s got mental problems. Something.”

Daddy patted my arm. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, darling. I was just checking, but I already knew the answer. Your heart is too big to ever be mean.”

At home, he told me I was not suspended, but the principal had decided that I could stay home to calm down. When I returned on Monday, I wouldn’t have detention, either, and he thought that was a very reasonable decision on Mr. Perry’s part.

“Your mama will be here soon. Maybe she’ll make fried chicken. You can have both the breasts, if you want.”

“I’m not hungry. I just want to lie down.”

“Aw, darling. All right, then. There’re vitamin E capsules in the medicine cabinet. Go wash your face and start rubbing that oil on those scratches. Three times a day, okay? Don’t forget. You don’t want those marks to get permanent.”

If I hadn’t gotten my ass beat, the next two days would have been fantastic. My father stayed home with me, and we watched a talk show and three soap operas. He ordered pepperoni pizza with extra cheese and didn’t even hide the box in the trash. This was a special occasion, he said. We needed unhealthy food to make things better. Besides, my mother had given him permission.

That Monday, my cousin tried to hold my hand when we climbed out of my mother’s station wagon. If I hadn’t been too embarrassed—I was fourteen damned years old, after all—I would have let him. Instead I let go and walked behind him, my eyes on the ground as we entered the school. I could hear the whispers of There she go and Did you see Antoinette beat that ass? as I somehow made it through the hall and up the steps to my homeroom.

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