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home, I know the first thing Mama’s going to ask me is if I made the appointment with our family physician, Dr. Whitmore, yet. I have insurance through my mom’s job with Kaiser, but Mama doesn’t trust them with shit like my sleepwalking. I don’t blame her, because the last time something like this happened to me and my mom took me to my pediatrician, they tried to give me antipsychotic drugs, as well as send me to a shrink. When Mama found out she wanted to crucify my mom, and I was right there with Mama.
    Walking up the driveway and up the porch, I look over my shoulder to make sure the alarm lights come on, indicating my mom’s ride is somewhat safe parked in front of the house. I doubt anyone will jack it because we protect our own on our block, even if Gunlock Avenue is notorious for being the spot to take jacked cars to get money for the parts. So a sistah still has to be cautious.
    As soon as I walk through the front door, Mama walks into the living room from the kitchen. She looks ready to harass me about my sleepwalking incident this morning.
    “Hi, baby. You didn’t forget any of the details from your dream last night, did you?” she asks, wiping her wet hands with a kitchen towel before giving me a hug.
    “No, ma’am,” I say, returning the hug. It feels good, embracing my grandmother, whose vanilla scent is comforting.
    “Good. And did you call Dr. Whitmore to make an appointment? I had Bryan put a reminder in that fancy phone of yours.”
    “Mama, I just got home,” I say, putting my pile of school-books down on the dining room table before taking off my shoes. It’s been a long day and I’m in no mood to get drilled.
    “Don’t you sass me, young lady. Tomorrow afternoon we’re at Netta’s, but you tell him that Wednesday works for me. And now that you’re driving your mama’s car, it should be good for you, too. Now, get on that little pink phone of yours and make the call.” Damn, Mama can be harsh sometimes. You’d think she was the one sleepwalking instead of me.
    “Yes, ma’am,” I say, near tears. Mama looks up from her spirit book, also on the dining room table, and sees the emotion written all over my face. She pats my hand with hers, letting me know she’s here for me.
    “Look, Jayd, I know it’s hard right now, but it won’t always be this way. We need to immediately get to the bottom of why you’re sleepwalking, and Dr. Whitmore will be able to help me see what I can’t right now. And more importantly, he’ll be able to help you get some solid sleep. The sooner we take care of this, the better.” I couldn’t agree more with her final statement. The last thing I want to do is have another episode like the one I had this morning.
    “I know, Mama. I know.” I take my phone out of my purse and put it on top of my stack of books. I look around the living room and notice my backpack isn’t where I left it by the dining room table. Mama follows my eyes as I search the room.
    “Your backpack’s in my room, Jayd,” she says, reading my mind. “You have to be careful, girl. You know these fools around here will snatch it and anything else up without a second thought.” Mama’s right. I have to be more careful and pay attention to what I’m doing. Maybe a visit with her doctor is just what I need to get myself together after all. Between his work and Netta’s head cleansing tomorrow, I should be straight by the weekend.
     
    After Monday’s eventful day, I opted to hide out all day yesterday, and with it being a usual short Tuesday because of the weekly staff meetings, it went by pretty quickly. Mama, Netta, and I also had a quiet afternoon at the shop. But even with Netta’s rogacion de cabeza and Mama there to assist with the head cleansing, I still didn’t sleep well last night. It seems like as soon as I close my eyes, it’s time to get up. There’s no dreaming, no hard sleep, nothing. Just lying down and getting up. That’s what usually leads to more