Chapter One
'Take a peach, take a plum. Take a pocket full of gum. Don't like it, don't take it. Take it up, take it down, take it all the way around. Hot dog baby, sugar and gravy. Here comes Puma with the bald head baby!'�
Shelia tapped her right foot to keep the beat of the rope. Tisa was stiff as a corpse, but her head nodded up and down like she had an uncontrollable twitch. They were turning the rope way too fast, but I tried to keep up. Clip-swish-clop. Clip-swish-clop. It sounded like a horse galloping instead of a double-dutch rope. Double-dutch is the first thing a girl learns in the projects. Suburban girls must learn hopscotch first.
'Somebody is double-handed!'� I yelled. Then the rope slapped me dead in the forehead. My patience was gone. Why did I always get hit with the rope when Tisa was turning? She did it on purpose. That little shy girl thing doesn't work with me. She's sneaky. It always seemed like she was hiding something, like the time she forgot to mention that she had some more sunflower seeds when I spilled mine all over the bleachers. She was sneaky and stingy. That's the worst kind of friend. That's why she wasn't my friend. I only hung with her because of Shelia.
'Just turn the rope and try not to hit me again.'� I rolled my eyes hard in Tisa's direction. Shelia and Tisa started to turn again.
'Don't get mad at us because you can't jump,'� said Tisa under her breath. Oh no she didn't. I've been good all week, but on this last day of spring break, I will take a month's punishment from my daddy just to slap her high-yellow self right upside the head.
'You ain't talkin' to me,'� I said. Just because she's a few months older than me doesn't mean I can't kick her skinny, lemon-head looking butt.
'Girl, just get in the rope. My arms are getting tired,'� warned Shelia. Shelia was always taking Tisa's side. Whatever. I was going to be the bigger person that time. I could still hear the double clapping of the rope. Clip-swish-clop. Clip-swish-clop. They were turning the rope a little slower than last time, so I decided to close my eyes and jump in. I could feel the sting on my left ear as the rope made contact for the second time. The rope hit me so hard that my silver hoop earring popped out and rolled into the street. I grabbed my ear and howled in pain.
'That's what you get. God don't like ugly,'� smirked Tisa.
'Yo mama ugly!'� I said.
'At least I don't walk with a pimp limp!'� Tisa said.
Before she could say another word, I snatched Tisa's end of the rope and slapped her in the face with it. The white, clothesline rope looked like a lasso as it whipped through the air chasing its prey. Tisa grabbed her cheek. She looked shocked and then she began to cry big old crocodile tears.
'Let me see,'� said Shelia. Tisa let go of her face and revealed two candy cane shaped welts.
'Ooh, it looks bad,'� said Shelia, the unintentional instigator. Tisa began to wail even louder. I wasn't fazed. I couldn't stand Tisa. She thought she was better than me and all of the boys were always sniffing behind her. She didn't even look all that hot. She was just light-skinned.
'Now who's ugly?'� I asked. My fists were balled tight, ready to finish what she started.
'Puma! Get your narrow butt in this house right now!'�
That could only be one person with that squeaky voice. My stepmother. I didn't realize that she was snooping on me. I thought she was at work. Business must have been slow. Denae was a waitress on the Westside. The place was a hole in the wall, but as Denae says, it paid the bills. She's my daddy's ghetto fabulous new wife. She's wife number four and is only eight years older than me. They get younger each time he goes to the altar. She pops gum like she's in a Bubbalicious commercial and uses more slang than they do on the corner of Roosevelt & Racine. She can barely speak English right. Denae had the body of a music video queen and wore a long curly weave with red streaks. I've got one word for her: Ghetto. Her acne was worse than mine and she had an even worse attitude. She loved tight clothes and off-the-shoulder sweaters. Her favorite color was unfortunately, the same as mine, red. Her wedding dress was made out of red lace and they got married in our basement. You can't get anymore hoochie-licious than that. She said that her curves get her more tips on the job. I doubted it with that face of hers, but who knew? All I knew was that she needed to stop acting like a teenager and act her age. She was almost twenty-two. That's why I refused to call her mama, even though my daddy wanted me to. How could I call a person mama when they acted more like a stupid big sister? You couldn't tell my daddy that though. He thought she was perfect. I know better so I don't trust her. That's why she always said that I had an attitude problem. I didn't have an attitude problem. I just had a problem with her.
'I know you hear me talking to you Pu-Ma! I ain't talking to my shoe.'�
She made me sick. She said that same dumb joke every time. I'm so tired of people making fun of my name. My weirdo mama named me that. My daddy said that right before I was born, my mom's puppy died. The dog's name was Puma. When I was born, mama was still in mourning so she named me Puma, after a dog. Since a Puma is really a cat, it just proves my daddy's point that my mama is batty as a betsy bug.
I could see Denae popping that lime-colored gum all the way from Shelia's house. Even though the double-dutch rope was mine, I threw down the evidence as I walked towards her. I did not feel like hearing her mouth. She was going to run this little incident into the ground. Maybe, I could convince her not to tell my daddy. Fat chance. She ran her mouth about everything and looked for opportunities to get me in trouble.
I gave a weak wave to Shelia as she continued to baby Tisa about that itty bitty red mark on her cheek. She didn't even ask me about my ear or my forehead which would have been red too if my skin wasn't so dark. I got hit twice and it was Tisa's double-handed fault. My left ear was still hurting and my earring had probably gotten run over by a car. I didn't even know why I still hang with them. Shelia was cool when she was by herself. When Tisa came around, it was a different story. I should have just cut both of them loose. Besides, I had Dina to hang around with. That was about it after that.
Denae was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, arms crossed, tapping her pleather sandals. Her toes, with all of those corns, were almost as ugly as her pimply face. I walked towards the house so slowly that I might as well have been moonwalking backwards. Whenever I walked slow, my slight limp showed up a little more. My legs were just as lopsided as the rope. I usually walked fast and did a little runway booty switch to balance out my uneven legs. I felt heavy, like there was sand from Lake Michigan in all four of my pockets. I had on blue jean shorts and a dingy white tank top. I knew that I was in deep trouble. My daddy had warned me. I could feel my lip starting to poke out. That always happened when I got in trouble.
'Put your lips back in. I ain't done nothing to you yet Miss Missy.'� I let out a sigh of defeat.
'Oh, you wanna get smart? I'm telling your daddy as soon as he gets home. Now sigh about that!'�
'Dang! I didn't say nothing! You be trippin!'� I ran past her and into the house. I heard Denae yell, 'And there's a pile of dishes waiting for you too. Introduce yourself gymshoe.'� I could see that the distance between us was growing.

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