Seth and Samona Read Online Free

he was criticizing anyway since he didn’t know anything about us.
    Samona met Jerome once and thought that he was a lot like Jean-Claude but I didn’t pay much attention to the opinion of someone who would sell shampoo made of horse manure. She talked to Jerome for a long time one day when he was waiting for Chantal on our steps.
    “He seems okay to me,” Samona told me after I got tired of waiting for her to go away and came outside.
    I looked at her like she was crazy and then at Jerome, who was walking down the street with Chantal. Jerome was built like a football player—not very tall but with big muscles. He kept his hair really short, so he looked almost bald. But his eyes were what bothered me. They were light brown and always seemed to be looking at everything like he was trying to take it apart and understand it. It gave me the creeps.
    Samona twirled one of the wooden beads in her hair.
    “He had to take care of his mother and his two older sisters all by himself. He thinks women should be liberated and take care of themselves.”
    “Liberated from what? Anyway, that’s not what Jean-Claude thinks,” I said. I was wondering if Samona knew that she had two completely different sandals on today. One red. One purple.
    “That’s ’cause Jean-Claude’s just like you and all men,” Samona announced. “You like to pass judgmenton people and control things—at least that’s what Leticia said about Tyrone.”
    I gave Samona a look that said she wasn’t making sense as usual.
    Now, back in the room, my brother Jean-Claude was lying flat beside Chantal. His long feet were sticking off the end of the bed ’cause he’s so tall for seventeen. He was half-watching the news and half-listening to Chantal. Jean-Claude is always telling Chantal that Jerome is nothing but a lost brother with no kind of future. He knows Jerome quit school last year and works full-time at the 7-Eleven near the highway.
    “Hi, Seth.” Chantal looked up from her toenails and smiled that smile that looked just like Manmi’s. Sometimes it surprises me how much Chantal can look like Manmi, with her golden skin and long, thick hair. “Is Papi home?”
    “No,” I said, and sat down at the edge of the bed. “You think Granmè’s gonna be all right?”
    “Yeah.” Chantal reached out and touched my shoulder gently. “That old woman’ll live forever just so I never get my own room.”
    I smiled at that ’cause Chantal’s been asking for her own room for years. She’s all the time complaining about Granmè snoring like a horse and making her do the rosary with her every night. Chantal always falls asleep before Granmè can finish.
    Jean-Claude turned his attention from the news andI was glad to see that he didn’t look upset. He goes off when he hears news like something about two brothers shooting each other over a basketball game. He’s always talking about how the television only shows bad images of black men on the news. They don’t show the good things that black men do every day like take care of their families, or come up with all those inventions like the traffic light.
    His face was still serious as he looked at us. There was a big dent in his hair and I could tell he’d been sleeping on one side of his head for a while.
    “Y’all know we’re gonna have to go to the wake tomorrow,” he said.
    “What’s a wake?” I asked. Monnonk Roddie had said that Papi was out taking care of it.
    Chantal’s face fell. “Aww, man. I’m supposed to go out with Jerome tomorrow. Maybe he can sit in the back where Manmi and Papi wouldn’t see him.”
    Jean-Claude turned his face back to the television and said, “Don’t you dare bring that sorry brother near the wake.”
    “You don’t even know Jerome!” Chantal almost tipped the nail polish on the bed as she sat up.
    I got up off the bed and left the room. I hate it when Jean-Claude and Chantal fight. They never used to argue until Chantal started seeing Jerome.