CHAPTER 10 #5
“She not home and Shay not out here,” she clarified.
“And we not goin’ far.”
That’s the trap. It’s not the distance, it’s the lie that you are still within arm’s reach of home. I hung there for a second, the block’s roar pulsing at my back, loud and unmistakable. I let the night air cling to me for one more breath, then I got up.
“Aight. Real quick Mia.”
As the next corner approached, the street’s soundtrack changed.
The boys on the strip didn't offer a single sound as we cut through their territory.
No catcalls, no noise, only a flat, predatory stare.
It sent a cold draft up my spine. Mia didn't flinch or react.
Her feet had the rhythm of someone who had been navigating this type of friction for a long time.
“We almost there,” she assured me like she had a map in her head.
“Almost where?” I asked.
Mia cut her eyes at the wreck of a store on the corner.
"Look at dat raggedy-ass spot," she muttered.
It was a total ghost ship, abandoned by the ‘hood and left to rot in the sun. Windows clouded over, bars running across them, like you was either being kept in or out, I couldn’t tell which.
The door was scratched up, paint peeling, the handle worn down from too many hands.
Mia pushed it open. The sound it made was dull.
No bell. No welcome. Inside, the air was gross, hot, and it didn’t move.
Shelves leaned under bags of chips that had been there too long.
Candy sat behind cloudy plastic, and the floor stuck enough to notice when you stepped.
A man stood behind the counter. Eyes low, surveying the store.
He didn’t greet us. Didn’t ask our age. Didn’t ask nothing. Mia stepped up being grown.
“Let me get two loosies,” she demanded.
“You smoke?” I whispered. She didn’t look at me.
“No,” she winked at me. “They fa my mama.”
The man reached under the counter hesitantly pulling out a pack, like it was just another sale. He slid two cigarettes across the glass. No bag. No wrapper. Mia tossed him the crumpled money, warm from her hand. He took it without counting. That told me everything.
“Come on,” she signaled towards the door.
We broke back into the street, and the night air slammed into my lungs. I had been drowning in that shop’s stagnant heat for too long. I pulled a long, desperate breath of the block's oxygen. Anything was better than the rank, heavy-duty rot we just left behind.
“Why we get those?” I questioned.
Mia didn’t answer my question.
“Jus’ come on.”
She led the way down a side path that felt like a secret.
The concrete was shattered, the corners packed with garbage that had long ago become part of the scenery.
Names was sprayed over every inch of the walls, a visual roar that made no sense.
The air was a sour mix of piss and bodies decomposing, it stayed in your throat.
Mia stopped mid-stride and dug for a light.
The metallic click of her lighter echoed twice before a small, nervous flame appeared.
She lit the cigarette. We watched the smoke drift up like a slow-motion ghost before she offered me the hit.
“Try it. But don’t really inhale.” She coached.
I hesitated, my hand hovering over the lit paper.
I brought it to my face, the scent spiking in my nose as a warning.
I drew in, and the heat hit my throat like a hot wire, sudden and harsh.
I choked, my whole body bending under the weight of the cough.
My chest went tight, and I swallowed a thick, bitter cloud that was never meant to leave the air.
Mia watched me struggle, her laugh slicing through the street’s hum.
“Girl, I told you don’t inhale!”
“I didn’t!” I snapped, voice breaking through coughs.
She snatched the burning stick from my hand, shaking her head.
“You don’t know whatchu doin’.”
“I don’t wanna know,” I shot back, wiping my face, trying to catch my breath.
Time stalled while I fought for air, struggling between the last of the coughs and the high of the laughter. The smoke drifted between us, a gray, hazy receipt for the line we had just crossed.
The sound of someone moving, deliberate and dangerously close, close enough to feel the vibration in the concrete.
“Yo… you hear dat?” I threw Mia a look that was all tension.
A deep voice was creeping through the alley. Mia dropped the cigarette fast, grinding it into the ground with her foot.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” she hissed in my ear. Her hand locking onto my forearm, hauling me back into the deeper shadows of the bricks.
We hit a full stride, shoes slapping the pavement in a frantic hustle.
Our steps was messy, a desperate attempt to look casual as our hearts slammed against our ribs.
We cut back through the trash and the glare of the lights, pivoting around the edge of the block.
We kept our heads down until our block's raw, messy symphony drowned out the silence we had just escaped.
We adjusted our stride, sinking back into the safety of the noise.
Mia’s gaze locked onto mine, that same half-shrug of a smile playing on her lips.
“You a scary cat,” she teased, nudging me playfully.
I rolled my eyes, a grin popping the tension. My throat was on fire, and my lungs was still protesting, but the shift was already done. I had stepped outside the lines that I had been coloring in my whole life. I wasn't ready to live there, but there was no going back to the safety of not knowing.
We collapsed onto my stoop staring at the stars above the rowhouses. Mia turned to face me. Her expression unexpectedly serious.
“You know you my girl, right?”
I didn't say a word, just let my head swing in a lazy, knowing nod that matched with every unspoken rule of the block.
“But not jus’ my friend. More like my sister.”
The weight of her words put heavy pressure in my chest. Nobody outside my family had ever claimed me that way.
“I got you,” she said.
“Always.”
My throat was still raw from the smoke.
“I got you too. Forever.”
Mia leaned in, her face tilted up to the stary, hazy ceiling of the block.
“Then that’s what it is, nothin’ comes between us. We ride togetha…no matter what.” And I believed her.
Mia was like my mirror. My courage. My sister in spirit. With her beside me, the city's growl didn't sound like a threat. I wasn't dodging shadows anymore. I was learning how to move with them, finding a rhythm that was living instead of hiding.
TURKEY DAY
Daddy was a ghost in our house. When he did surface, it was like those flash-flood August storms. A sudden, violent roar of energy that shook the house and evaporated before the sidewalk had a chance to dry.
On this day, a biting cold arrived as the sun started setting around 6:30pm.
The twins was busy owning the street. Saiyd was mid-swing, whipping a splintered broom handle with enough heat to send the ball clear over the rooftop.
Behind him, Sinceer was a one-man jury. His mouth moving a mile a minute, breaking down the regulations of the concrete.
“That’s three strikes!” Sinceer shouted loud enough to stop the rhythm of the double-dutch ropes a few doors down.
“Man, dat was a foul!” Saiyd barked, his finger jabbing at the invisible line on the asphalt.
“You don’t even know what a foul is!” Sinceer met the noise with a cold, dismissive laugh.
“I know you cheatin’!”
I was stretched out on the stoop with Mia, digging sunflower seeds out the shared bag between us.
The street’s rhythm was broken by the arrival of a black Chevy Caprice.
My pulse stuttered before I could process why.
The car hissed to a stop at our front door, and the world held its breath for a second.
The driver’s side door kicked open, and there he was, standing tall, like a myth that finally caught up to the reality. My Daddy.
He shuffled out the car wearing a fresh white tee and a black leather jacket. A heavy gold chain resting against his chest. Hairline sharp enough to cut paper. He seemed older than the last time I had seen him, though he still carried that same energy.
“Sum-Bug!” He hollered. My pulse jumped. I was in disbelief.
I buried every reason I had to hate him. The long nights staring out the window. The birthdays he missed like they meant nothing. None of it mattered right then. I launched off the stoop and threw myself into his arms. He lifted me off the ground, to him I still weighed nothing.
“How’s my girl,” he asked, kissing the side of my head.
He smelled the same as always. Watered down cologne and cigarette smoke, like home. The twins stood motionless in the road. Saiyd released the broom handle. Sinceer pushed his glasses up his nose, he needed a better look.
“Yo,” Saiyd whispered.
“Dat’s our Daddy?”
Daddy looked over and chuckled.
“Look at these boys,” he bolstered.
“Y’all got big on me.”
Saiyd jogged up instantly. Daddy caught him in a rough hug, slapping his back.
“Dat’s my soldier right there.”
Sinceer trotted up with more hesistation. Daddy pulled him close too, squeezing his shoulder.
“Wus up smart guy.” He said with a grin.
Sinceer gave a quiet nod.
Mia stayed stuck on the stoop, eyes wide, like she wasn’t sure she was really seeing him. She had heard about my Daddy a hundred times, late nights on the phone, me talking in circles about a man she had never laid eyes on. Now he was standing right there. She nudged my arm, still staring.
“Yo, Summer” she spoke under her breath, shaking her head a little.
“You not gon’ introduce me to yo’ Pops?”
I wiped my hands on my shorts, suddenly nervous.
“Daddy,” I said, glancing between them. “This Mia. She live a few doors down. She my ride or die.”
Daddy’s eyes slid over to her. He gave a slow head approval, the corner of his mouth lifting just a little.
“Mia, huh?” he said.
Mia straightened up quick, brushing her hands down the front of her jeans like she was meeting somebody important.
“Yeah, uh I mean, yes sir,” she replied, trying to sound calm, even though her voice carried a little bounce of excitement.