The Night Changes

part one (2) - k h a d i

"And through Mary but for Jesus we say?" Mother ended.

"Amen." We all followed in unison. It was mama, papa, Camery, Jamie, and I at the dinner table. A couple months had passed since the incident with the twins. Jamie always looked at me in anger and fear with his amber eyes and Camery with excitement with her honey brown ones. Strange the two.

"So," my fathers radiant voice exclaimed, "what's up with y'all? How's school? Tell me the tea of the day." He chuckled.

"First of all dad, don't say 'tea' you sound weird." Camery laughed, "Second, how would you feel if I was pregnant?" She said nonchalantly.

My mother chocked on her food, my brother ate his food, and my father glanced at my mother. "Well uhh," he scoffed, "are you pregnant?"

My mother stopped eating, "No, some girl at school is." Mama resumed with her food.

"Well, if you were, then there wouldn't be anything I can do. I'd accept the fact and open my arms to my grandkid."

"Absolutely not!" Mamas lion voice came out. Mama was the head in the house, she wore the skirt and pants, kept the balance, made sure everything was perfect. "I ain't raise my children to birth at a young age. Or impregnate at a young age. I won't let you ruin your life cause some guys pull out game is weak! Or your," she glared at Jamie, "pull out is weak." Jamie covered his face in embarrassment.

"Sacar...? Èl sacó?" In English, I thought, "to...sacar...to..."

"Pull out, honey. Remove." Mother sighed glaring at my father.

"Mom, don't worry. You were twenty-three with your first pregnancy. Weren't you young?" Camery asked with excitement in her stare. She had looked at me grinning, "Did you know that Khadi?"

I shook my head, not understanding why she even brought it up like it was important. "You're making me nervous. Estoy nerviosa." I then looked at Jamie and remembered the face he had made when I had commented on his nervousness. "Estaba nervioso." I whispered.

Jamie glared my way, clenching the fork in his hand. "What did she whisper?" He had looked over at mom and dad, "Mom, dad, the hell did she say?" he spewed angrily.

"Jamie—"

"James—"

"Watch your tone at the dinner table, man. I ain't raise you to be disrespectful, yahurd?" Dad had said his finger in Jamie's face.
Dad grew up in the hood, not liking how it did him when he was younger and living with his crack-addicted, heroine loving, abusive parents who didn't take care of him or his twin sister when they were young, didn't help. So, he did a whole 360 with his life. The Turing point being when his twin sister died in jail—"she didn't belong," my father always said—she was trialed as an adult, the reasoning being in there still not known. From then on, my father decided to keep watch over who went in and stayed. He became a lawyer, worked his butt off, and now he's here, doing justice, his family supporting him every step of the way.

"You watch your respects, and tone is all 'bout that shit mane. Don't get angry at yo little sis for not speaking a language you—"

"But...but I'm not angry, dad, I just—" my dad put his hand up silencing Jamie.

"James, I know you ain't mean no disrespect, but watch yourself boy," dad glared. Jamie went back to his food, playing with it, his appetite gone.

My sister ate her food gracefully, and my mother nodded and returned back to her food before saying, "He was nervous."

Mind you I was still six when this happened so of course I was still in a cry baby faze. My dad was yelling and Jamie was mad at me, so that resulted in tears. I cried myself to sleep that night.