CHAPTER 12
ALL EYES ON ME
For once, the corner was quiet. Every window was glowing with the blue light of a television tuned to NBC.
Me and Mia didn't move a muscle until Dominique Dawes stuck that landing and made history for every black girl on the block.
Proving we could be world-class even when the world felt small.
We carried that hype out to the front of the house.
We posted up on the curb, watching the twins try to flip on the concrete like they was in Atlanta too.
The night air finally cooling down as the neighborhood settled into its usual routine.
Chaos is the only thing this block really owns, without the sirens and the shouting, it would just be a graveyard of row houses.
And the madness always started the same way, a voice catching an attitude in the middle of the street.
This time it was Miss Janine’s. She didn't know when to quit or how to keep it low.
“Now I know you not talkin’ ta me like dat Tina!”
Tina stood halfway down the sidewalk, hands on her hips, neck rolling, she been holding this in for too long. Tina lived right next door to us. She had five kids, five different daddies and people didn’t bother dressing that up with nicer words. Tina was a slut.
“I’m tired of you in my business,” she snapped.
“You always got somethin’ to say ‘bout somebody!”
Miss Janine didn't move an inch off that chair. She shifted her weight and leaned out over her knees with somebody’s baby tucked in her lap.
“If you ain’t want nobody sayin’ nothin’, maybe ya shouldn’t do it!”
That got a reaction.
“Oh, so now you my mama?” Tina closed the distance, wolfing at the air, her voice bouncing off the brickwork.
“You watchin’ me like you pay bills in my muthafuckin house!”
Everybody knows the real drama lives on the block.
A few doors down, the neighbors cracked their doors to listen in.
On the opposite side, an Auntie dragged her seat across the pavement, settling in because the street was now giving a better show than the '96 Olympics.
Miss Janine finally hauled herself up, every movement deliberate.
She had all the time in the world for the nonsense today.
“I been on dis block longa than you been alive child,” she shot off, wiping her hands on her housecoat.
“I see whatcha’ doin’ out here.”
Tina let out a humorless chuckle. Her eyes a cutting blade that told everyone she was reaching her limit.
“No! You watch what I be doin’,” she shot back.
“Every day, sittin’ on that stoop cuz you ain’t got nothin’ else goin’ on. I’m sick of yo’ miserable ass. Don’t nobody care cuz you old. Stay out my fuckin’ business!!”
That hit the mark, and the whole block felt it. You could see the shift in real-time. Miss Janine’s face clamped shut as the truth sunk in.
“I watch cuz somebody got to,” she screamed.
“Y’all out here actin’ like ain’t nobody raised you.”
“Don’t do that,” Tina cut right back,
“Don’t talk to me like I’m one of these lil’ kids out here. I’m grown.”
“Well act like it.” The air went dead, like a radio signal cutting out.
“Why you care so much? Huh?!”
Miss Janine held her tongue, clocking the wear and tear on Tina’s face.
She saw a woman who looked way too seasoned for her years, shoulders bowed under a heavy burden that wasn't hers to carry.
When she finally spoke again, it wasn't a holler, it was a whisper that hit harder than any scream the whole night.
“Cuz I seen how dis go,” she revealed.
“I ain’t tryin’ to watch you go out tha same way I did. I was you before.”
Tina cut her eyes sideways, her body language screaming that she was done listening to the truth.
“I ain’t you,” Tina brushed it off,
“I don’t need you watchin’ me like you waitin’ on me to fail. I got this ol’ lady!”
Miss Janine gave a slow, heavy shake of her head, her face stiff as she watched another one slip into the fire.
“Yup, everybody say dat. But what about ya kids?” her words barely scratching the air before the block swallowed them.
That was the final straw. Tina threw her hands up shouting one last time before surrendering to the madness and dipped out.
“Stay out my business or we got a problem” she threatened.
“Fa real!”
Tina turned and cut a path through the heat, her anger practically vibrating off the bricks. Miss Janine held her position for a moment longer, then dropped back into her folding chair. She pulled that baby back into her chest and went back to being the block’s watchwoman.
The whole block felt the burn and the truth was just hanging in the air thicker than smoke.
I sat there, absorbing the unspoken. Eyes on you is a heavy weight.
It’s the way the block says ‘I got you’ or ‘I’m waiting for a slip-up.’
And sometimes the love and the pressure are tangled up so tight you can't tell them apart.
HALLOWEEN BLOOD
The night didn't feel like a celebration, it felt like a wake.
The bass from ‘I Ain't Mad at Cha’ rattled the windows, the lyrics serving as a grim eulogy for a man who felt more like a neighbor than a superstar.
Men in oversized leather jackets stood in the shadows, pouring out a little liquor for a King they had never met but whose Thug Life philosophy was the only math that made sense in a world that felt like it was closing in.
I pulled the plastic Scream masks out of a crinkled Thriftway bag. They reeked of factory chemicals and cheap vinyl.
“Put 'em on, let me see.” I muttered, nudging the twins.
We stepped out onto the concrete stoop. Unc’ Tyrone was scrubbing graffiti off his brickwork with a stiff brush.
The air was sharp, carrying the scent of burning trash from an alleyway and the distant, rhythmic thrum of a passing SEPTA bus.
A few doors down, a pitbull on a heavy chain barked at a loose black plastic bag caught in a sycamore tree.
“Stay close ya’ll,”
I said, checking the pocket of my denim jacket where I had stashed my house key. I wasn't trick-or-treating for fun. I was the barrier between my brothers and the sharp edges of the block.
“Do we look scary, Sum?”
Sai’s voice muffled through the plastic mouth-hole.
“Scary enough,”
I said, my eyes scanning the street for anything that didn't belong.
“Y’all don’t move. I be right back.”
Something was off. I doubled back through the door.
I stepped in the bathroom and shut the door tight.
That's when I saw the blood. My whole body went cold and my heart started doing backflips.
Did I hurt myself? Did something happen?
I checked myself again, my hands trembling.
A bit more was smeared there. It didn't make sense, but I knew this wasn't no accident.
“Shay!” I screamed. My voice louder than I meant it to be. No answer. I opened the door halfway.
“Shay!”
She groaned from the couch.
“What?”
“Come here.”
“No, whatchu want Summer dang?” she answered, not moving.
“Please come here.”
She must have heard the panic leaking out of my throat. A second later, I heard her feet dragging across the floor. She hovered in the doorway, squinting.
“Whatchu want?”
I didn't have words. I just let her witness it for herself. I was losing my mind, but Shay stayed solid. Her whole vibe changed from annoyed to I got you.
“Oh,” she said, softer now.
“Aight don’t trip.”
She stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
“It’s yo’ period,” She talked like it was nothing major. My thoughts were all jumbled.
“My what?” I swallowed back the fear. She leaned against the sink with her arms folded across her chest.
“You a woman now,” she emphasized. The words sat heavy in the air. I didn’t feel like a woman. I felt confused. Unsteady. Like things turned and nobody warned me.
Shay moved around me, opening the cabinet. She dug around, pulling out pads wrapped in plastic.
“Here,” she said, handing them to me.
“I’ll show you.”
Her hands a blur. I could tell this wasn't her first rodeo.
“You jus’—” she started explaining, showing me what to do. Not looking at me too long. Not making it a big moment. But it was, at least to me. When she finished, she washed her hands, looked at me again.
“You good?” She threw the question at me like a challenge.
I agreed with a quick nod, but inside I was still lost. She shrugged her shoulders.
“Aight den, I’m goin’ back ta sleep.” She didn't wait for a follow-up.
“And don’t be actin’ like you dyin’ girl… it’s normal.”
That was her final word on it.
My vibe was off thoug, like the walls knew I wasn't the same little girl anymore. I leaned over the sink, staring at the person in the glass. Same face staring back, but the girl behind it was gone. I was a stranger in my own skin.
I hit the stoop again, moving really easy.
“Summer, you comin’?” Sinceer pressed me.
“Yeah,” I said, stepping back into the mix. But that feeling had a grip on me.
The block waits for the right moment to drop a secret bomb on you. And after that, the path back to being a kid is closed off for good.
ENOUGH
The 34 trolley hummed past, but the real electricity was coming from the radios and the open windows. It was opening night at the new arena, and Allen Iverson was making his debut. Saiyd was vibrating, trying to mimic the crossover he seen in the highlights.
“Look at his hair, Sum!”
Saiyd shouted, pointing at a grainy cover of the Daily News we got from Mr. Jenkins.
Iverson wasn't just a player; he was a mirror. Not the polished, suit-and-tie superstar the league wanted. He was West Philly in a jersey. That defiant ‘look-at-me’ swag that made every kid on the block stand taller. He made the grit gold.
The game wasn't just about some numbers on a scoreboard. It was about truths. For once, the biggest star in our city didn't want them to change. He wanted to be their reflection.
Fridays on our block belonged to Tina. And that November air couldn't kill her tradition.
That thick, heavy fish scent drifting down the sidewalk and settling into your clothes.
Her front steps turned into a whole setup quick.
Table dragged out. Foil pans lined up. Paper towels stacked high.
Kids running in and out the house, screen door slamming behind them every time.
It was the ideal finish to the Sixers win.
Everyone was checking for her platters and the word on the street.