CHAPTER 22 #3
Downstairs, two twelve-year-old boys was growing up fast on a block that never stopped recruiting. That summer was supposed to be the beginning of my new life. Looking back now, it was really the beginning of theirs. And neither of them knew it yet.
EXPIRATION
The morning I left for college the block woke up before the sun.
Not because of me. The block never woke up for anyone.
Garbage trucks rattled down the street. That morning was more hefty than most.
My suitcases waited by the door. Two bags.
That was all I owned that mattered. Marcus was waiting in the car outside.
Mama fiddled in the kitchen pretending she wasn’t about to cry.
The twins hovered near the door, restless and sad in their own ways. I hugged mama one last time.
“You ready?” She asked.
“I think so.”
“You betta call me when you get dere.”
“I will.”
I grabbed my bags and stepped out into the summer heat. A car rolled casually onto the block. An old gray sedan. It halted halfway down the street. The door opened and my heart jumped into my throat.
“Aunt Dee?”
She shuffled out taking her time. Ten years in prison had carved new lines into her face, but she carried herself the same way she regularly did, chin high, eyes glowing. Her hair was shorter now. Her body leaner. Her face broke into a smile.
“My baby.”
I dropped my bags and darted in her direction. She grabbed me in a hug that squeezed the air out of my lungs.
“You got big,” she laughed.
“You was supposed ta come see me first,” I said.
“Dey lemme out dis morning.” Her voice cracked just a little.
“First place I came was here.”
Mama stepped onto the porch slowly. Ten years of distance separating them. Mama walked down the steps and wrapped her arms around her.
“Dee, I can’t believe you home,” Mama whispered.
“I missed you big sis.” Tears filled both of their eyes. It was so special.
Aunt dee pulled back from their embrace. She looked at me again. Looked at Mama, then back at me.
“Where you goin’? You leavin’?”
“Yeah. For college.”
She smiled proudly.
“I heard. Temple right?”
“Yeah! How did you know?”
“You think news don’t travel inside ‘dem walls?” She tapped my shoulder.
“I been braggin’ ‘bout you fa years.”
Tears filled my eyes. She went on,
“I’m sorry I ain’t call much. I ain’t want y’all comin’ to see me. I couldn’t let you see me dat way. But not a day passed that I ain’t think ‘bout you, ‘bout ya’ll.”
She held me tight while she talked. And the tears just streamed down my face.
“You did a great job takin’ care of everyone. Thank you, Summer.”
My chest tightened. Aunt Dee was the one who believed in me first. Before teachers. Before Marcus. Before I even believed in myself. Aunt Dee did. She always did.
The twins ran down the steps.
“Yo’ who dat?” Saiyd asked.
Aunt Dee laughed.
“You must be Saiyd. I heard ‘bout you.” She dragged them into a hug before they could protest.
“Lord, look at y’all.”
Saiyd smirked politely while Sinceer studied her intently.
“Did you jus’ get outta jail?” Saiyd asked bluntly.
Mama smacked the back of his head. “Boy!”
Aunt Dee giggled.
“Yeah, lil man. I did.” She crouched down to their level.
“Which means you betta not end up in there behind me.”
Saiyd grinned.
“I won’t.”
Sinceer didn’t chime in. He was steadily inspecting her.
Aunt Dee raised from the crouched position and grabbed my hands.
“You listen to me,” she declared. Her voice serious.
“You leavin’ dis block. You doin’ what most people aroun’ here only dream ‘bout.”
Her grip tightened.
“Don’t you come back unless it’s to visit.”
I agreed. Water burning behind my eyes.
“You understan’ what I’m sayin’?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Cuz some of us had to learn tha hard way.”
She glanced down the street. At the corner. At the same streetlight that been watching this block longer than any of us been alive.
“Places like dis don’t let people go easy.”
“I know.”
“But you different.” She tapped my chest.
“You always was.”
I hugged her one more time. Hard.
“I love you, Aunt Dee.”
“I love you too, baby.”
Marcus hopped out of the car to help with my bags. Mama hugged me for the tenth time. The twins just stood awkwardly, like they ain’t know how to say goodbye. I climbed into the passenger seat. The engine started and the car lazily cruised off the block.
I glimpsed back through the window one last time. Mama stood on the porch, the twins beside her, Aunt Dee standing at the edge of the sidewalk. She didn’t wave. Just moved her head up and down. Like she was sending me forward. Like she understood what the rest of us was still learning.
Marcus glanced over as we turned the corner.
“Hey, you okay?”
I nodded slowly.
“Yeah.”
My gaze stayed on the shrinking view of the block behind us. Parrish Street was the only home I ever knew. It held me, fed me, taught me how to live.
Eighteen years. Eighteen summers. But even on the hottest days, the block was never warm. Never tender. The block could raise you, shape you, even feel like home, but it would never, ever love you back. I gave it loyalty, pieces of myself, years of my life… and all it ever gave back was struggle.