“I’m right here,” he said, exiting the dressing room in his street clothes. His earphones blasted the latest hip-hop song. He didn’t look happy to see his mother.
“Where’s your instructor? I need to talk to him.”
“Ma’am?” Darryl asked, pulling the left speaker out of his ear.
“Turn it down so you can hear me. I asked about your instructor.”
Irritably, the boy pointed toward the office.
“Watch your attitude, boy!”
“Ma, why you startin’ with me already? I ain’t even do nothin’ to you. I’m the one been sittin’ here two hours.”
“Go wait for me in the car. I just wanna go in and apologize.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, replacing the dangling earphone.
“What’s his name?” Frankie yelled.
“Sensei Reid,” Darryl replied on his way outside. Frankie rapped on the door and waited for permission to enter. A bit taken aback by the instructor, she ignored the frustrated facial expression, surveyed the trophies, photos, and certificates, and finally said, “Listen, I’m sorry for running late. I got caught up at work with—”
The athletically built black woman raised her hand in protest. She then leaned back in her massive black chair and said, “I hear where you’re coming from but we don’t tolerate excuses from parents or students. The records show you’ve been late almost every night since Darryl’s enrollment. We don’t want to punish him for your beh
avior but we can’t continue to stay late to supervise him.”
“Well, you don’t really have to stay late or supervise him. I mean, he’s twelve years old. He can look after himself.”
“Ms. Greene, it is my responsibility to ensure the building is empty when I leave.”
“I know, and again, I apologize for the—”
“Yame!” the sensei exclaimed.
“Excuse me? I don’t eat sweet potato!”
“Yame means ‘stop’ in Japanese. I need you to just stop talking.”
Frankie crossed her arms and sucked her teeth. Rolled her eyes and neck like oats. “I think it’s nice you’re teaching the kids respect, concentration, goals, and all that along with the karate but you can’t talk to me like that. I ain’t one of your goddamn students!”
“Why not?”
“I don’t have the time or money to—” Frankie stopped herself. “Why am I explaining myself to you? You ain’t nobody!”
“Okay, have a seat. We may have started on the wrong foot. Call me Rita for now, but in public or if I’m ever your instructor, call me Sensei Reid. What’s your name?”
“It’s Frankie and I’ll stand. Darryl’s in the car.”
Rita looked at Frankie earnestly. “Do you have a second for a quick sistah-to-sistah talk?”
“I don’t see what there is to talk about and I don’t like you talking to me like I’m a child. I’m late, I apologized, and that’s that!”
“Iya!”
“Bless you!”
“Frankie, I didn’t sneeze! ‘Iya’ means ‘no’! It’s not, ‘I apologized and that’s that.’ Your lateness inconveniences everyone. Besides, how can you help your son with karate if you don’t know the commands or the basic principles of respect?”
“That’s what I pay ya’ll for! I can’t be everything to the boy. I have work, school, Bible study, housework…and I can forget about having a social life!”