We were too heavy. Not with our bags. Not with our bodies. But with our burdens.
The captain yelled for some of us to get off. But we couldn’t simply walk away—we were surrounded by water. We huddled together because the boat was sinking.
Valerie and I never let go of each other. She whispered La Siren’s name over and over again, praying for the beautiful mermaid to rise up from the depths of the ocean and save us.
So the spirit of La Siren came in the form of a big boat, with strong arms to pull us up and over the side of the metal railing.
We had not drowned in that ocean. For me, it was so that I could find love and freedom in this new home called America with my beautiful girls. And for Valerie . . . if she did not perish in that ocean, then there is more for her to do in this life. We are still here.
SEVENTEEN
“YOU WERE ABSENT. I wanted to give you back your paper,” Mr. Nolan says as he hands me a folder with my name on it.
I look down at my revised paper about Toussaint L’Ouverture. There’s now an A at the top. There are no red marks on my carefully chosen words and sentences and quotes from books on Chantal’s shelves and from the internet. I listened to Imani and “gave textual evidence.” It worked.
“How are you adjusting to Detroit?” he asks. His brows are furrowed as if he expects me to give him some bad news. His beard and mustache are so thick that I can’t tell whether he smiles or not.
He sits there, waiting for an answer, but I don’t know where to begin.
Finally, he exhales and nods. “I know. It’s an adjustment,” he says. “If you ever want to write about what it’s like for you, being from Haiti and all, you certainly can. I will count it as extra credit. And it wouldn’t have to be a research paper.”
“How are you adjusting to Detroit?” I finally ask him. My question makes no sense because he lives here. He is not new to this city, to this country. He is only the second black man teacher I’ve had in my life—even in Haiti—so I want to know what his life is like here, if he has a wife and children and a big house. Knowing this bit of an American story will help me to dream a little bit.
He chuckles. “I’ve adjusted just fine. Had no choice. Detroit born and raised. Went to school. Messed up a couple of times. But got back up and did what I had to do. So I expect no less from you, or any of my students. I’m here to help.”
He doesn’t really give me the answer that I want, so I only smile, thank him, and gather my things. Before I leave the classroom, Mr. Nolan calls my name again.
“You’re doing very well, Fabiola. Stay focused,” he says with what I think is a smile hidden beneath all that beard.
“I will” is all I say.
I let Imani see my paper while we walk through the lobby out of the building.
“He was easy on you,” she says.
“What? No way. I worked so hard,” I reply as I zip up my coat.
“Yeah, right. When did you find the time to work on that paper? Last thing I heard was Kasim taking you to the opera house to see Alvin Ailey. That’s some real fancy shit.” She looks me up and down as if I’m dirty.
“What are you saying, Imani?” I shove her a little and try not to smile.
“What’d you put out for him to spend money on you like that?” She laughs.
I shove her harder and she almost stumbles down the school’s front steps. “I didn’t do anything with him.”
“Well, he’s sure expecting something back.” She laughs hard while holding on to the handrail. “And when you do give it up, he’s gonna be hitting all the walls!” She pushes her pelvis back and forth.
“Oh, Imani! That is nasty,” I say, trying really hard to keep from laughing.
“Is that what you want Dray to do to you?” Donna’s voice cuts through Imani’s laugh. She’s standing at the top of the concrete steps. Imani wipes the smile from her face and glances at me.
“Don’t you look at her,” Donna says, coming down a couple of steps. “Do you like him?”
I touch Donna’s shoulder. “No, she doesn’t like Dray,” I answer for Imani.
“That’s not what I heard.” She gets real close to Imani’s face. I get ready to pull Donna away if she tries anything. “You don’t want to mess with Dray, trust me. He’ll fuck your whole shit up, Imani. And don’t think I’m saying this ’cause I’m jealous. I’m just trying to look out for you.” She continues down the stairs but keeps her eyes on Imani.
“She’s not gonna do anything to you,” I say loud enough for Donna to hear. “She just thinks Dray likes you.”
Imani stares straight at me. “You’re real dumb, Fabiola. You don’t know shit. Your cousins will drag me out here on these streets. And it’s all ’cause I’m hanging with you.”
“No. Donna is jealous, that’s all. Pri and Chantal don’t have a problem with you.”
“They will if Donna ever put a hand on me. I got cousins, too, you know.”