That heavenly sound turned into laughs and jokes from our peers.

"I just paid the rent you little crumb snatchers," said mama. There was a sadness in her eyes I couldn'texplain. I also noticed that one of her eyes were blackened.

Probablywhy daddy's fisthad a bruise on it before he left for work. As a matter of fact he had a black eye, too. I never saw them argue or fight so who knows..

"Its always Ghanelle. You gonna get your siblings ass kicked you keep on like you helping me pay as you mufuckin lay!"

What that got to do with our ice cream?

Something is wrong with Mama. She always buy us an ice cream every single day from the ice cream truck, but for the past week she hasn't so much as look at an ice cream or the truck it came from and I found that weird.

Ghanelle glanced at the crisp fifty dollar bill folded between her breasts. So did I.

"Can you buy me one with the child support money from daddy?" Kingston asked with a sing-song type of pitch, very unconfident with himself.

Mama denied the claim. "Boi what are you talking about?" I don't get..."

"Yes, hun!" Kingston exploded, clearly hurt. "Grandma says that money is for us, the kids but you bought packs of weave tryna be like those rich crackas on the soaps and there's not a chance on heavens door of us hood rats having a job let alone kick it with rich crackas, so why not buy us an ice cream," reasoned Kingston, not knowing that when Mama glared at him with her mouth agape that meant his ass was grass.

I covered my face, shaking my head.

No mo' ah hoppin and ah skippin and ah dancing and ah prancing, singing and ah ah cappin for some ice cream.

"Oooohhh, boiiii, you in troouubblleee!" I instigated.

Pop!

Mama smacked my chapped lips and spun me in a circle seven times then took off her flip flop and spanked me so hard I stumbled back on my ass.

"That's the place a child of my coochie stays when it comes to this house hold: in your gahdamn place..."

My mouth was wide open for a good fifteen seconds out of shock because Mama NEVER whipped us, ever, before the first painful wail made everybody look and pick at us.

"Iiiiiii, haaaaa yo bald head ass like us you ain't getting nooo ice creammmm!" The haters taunted me from the sidelines...

Mama continued, "You're gettin too grown! And you need to play with girls ya age and stop playing football with those niggas. You. Are. A. Girl! Act like one!"

Is she throwing shade?

Mama looked at me more closely, a knowing look befell her expression, but failed to cover that dotted eye.

"Nah. You like pussy. Keep playing with the boys with your lil gay ass. A mama knows her child!"

It wasn't that I ressed like a tom boy. I hated girly shit.

I was hurt that Mama thought that way about me. Clearly embarrassed, I covered my face and continued to scream.

Pow!

Right across the forehead.

"Shut the heck up before I give your lil sweet gay ass something to cry about!"

In half a second I quickly contained myself.

Like the t rex from Jurassic Park, Mama leaned into my face and stared deep into her eyes.

"I dare you to let a sound fall out your lil smart ass mouth. That's the problem with you ungrateful kids of mine. Think you can say what the fuck you want. Not on my calendar!"

She beat my brother's ass.

Right there on the front porch.

We hated that shit.