“My Brownies, how was your first day?” Ms. Twizz’s eyes were wide and ready. Ms. Twizz opened the door with a bright smile and reggae music spilled from the bus. “Mais cher, I’ve missed you!” she shouted.
Ms. Twizz had been with their bus driver since the sixth grade. Every year Ms. Twizz gave out Twizzlers and other candy on the bus. One student began calling her Ms. Twizzler, and that was when the name was born.
“Mine was okay. Raven and I don’t have any classes together. And you remember Josue? From last year? He’s in like three of my classes, and he’s still trying to be a rapper!” Nia huffed.
Raven giggled to herself.
“Taylor is in my homeroom, and did you see that new boy? Amir? Well, he’s in my homeroom, math, and chemistry class.”
“Oh, is he now?” Nia smirked. Raven turned away, avoiding Nia’s eyes.
“Amir, huh?” Ms. Twizz turned down her music. “So, homeroom, math, and what other class did you say?” Ms. Twizz repeated.
“Chemistry.”
“And lunch,” Nia reminded.
“That’s not bad. Could be worse. Could have every single class together all day long. That would be too much!” Ms. Twizz snapped her fingers.
Hmmm. Raven hadn’t thought about that. She’s right, it could be worse. She could’ve had classes with Amir all day. She for sure would’ve been a Nervous Nelly if that happened. Raven relaxed some on the ride home. Someone in the back of the bus started playing music, and she heard Wild Wayne’s voice from Q93. She heard the beats get louder and louder, and she nodded her head. She looked over at Nia, who was still scrolling through her phone.
“Jasmine says meet at City Park with your bike at 4 p.m. Did she text you?”
Raven checked her phone, and sure enough, Jasmine had texted her.
“Do you think Trinity is coming too?” Raven asked. She didn’t feel like smelling Trinity’s nine-year-old brother, Austin. Trinity had to watch him because her mom worked often down at The Bayou Restaurant in town. Austin was the most annoying, smelliest kid ever.
Seconds later, Raven’s phone buzzed, and a text from Trinity said she had to bring her brother because her mom was working. Raven groaned to herself, and the girls looked at each other, then cracked up. Pulling the door shut from her second to last stop, Nia asked Ms. Twizz to turn up her music. Ms. Twizz obliged.
“Let the smooth Caribbean sounds take you away,” Ms. Twizz gyrated her hips in the seat. The girls smiled; they loved their time alone with Ms. Twizz.
“How’s your Rick doing, Ms. Twizz?”
Rick was Ms. Twizz’s son. He was twenty when he went to prison for selling weed and had quite a few years to go. The case angered Ms. Tina and Blair. They spent many afternoons on the phone discussing it and all things Black in America.
“He’s doing okay, my brownies. He’s doing okay. One day at a time, and I know the Lord gon’ make a way, so I’m not worried because I know I’ll see my boy an ‘em again.” Ms. Twizz’s voice trailed off and got lower. “We’ll see. They gon’ see,” she nodded her head.
“Well, tell him my mom is always praying for him,” Nia said.
Rounding the corner to Sycamore Street, Ms. Twizz pulled open her door and let the girls exit. “See ya tomorrow, my brownies!” Ms. Twizz smiled.
“So how long is it gonna take you to get ready?” Raven turned to Nia. Nia was meticulous about every piece of clothing—even for bike riding.
“I’ll meet you in thirty minutes on The Hill. Byyee, girl!” Nia hollered over her shoulder. She headed over the slope to her house while Raven walked down the hill to her end of Sycamore Street. The girls lived just a quarter mile from each other. The road had a steep incline in the center between their houses, and they spent afternoons racing their bikes up and down the hill. The neighborhood considered it the meeting spot for everything. It was The Hill.
Khalil shared with Blair some of his fondest memories of childhood took place when they lived in a shotgun style house way up on a hill. Khalil never talked about his childhood. When Blair learned this tidbit of information, she made it her business to make sure Khalil and their family lived in a home where he felt safe and comfortable. The Jamison’s lived in a yellow two-story shotgun style home and had been there for just over a decade. Large steps stood in the center of the home, leading up to the most beautiful ornate set of double glass doors on the block. A brown lantern storm light hung above. Under their feet, Blair had a custom doormat that said, ‘Check ‘yo energy.’ Blair was an artist, and to her, a good door on a house was like seeing the soul of a home. Greys, with splashes of light blue, painted the Jamison walls. Pictures of them hung everywhere. Blair, Khalil, and Raven at Disney World, ice skating, playing soccer, sleeping, Halloween, school events.
No one was home yet, and Raven let herself in with her key. Blair was at the gallery and Khalil at the station. Raven ran up the stairs two at a time towards her room. She changed into a short sleeve tracksuit with her Brown Girls Club jacket. She fixed her hair in the mirror and pulled on her sneakers. Raven checked her phone. She had about an hour and a half before her mom got home. Perfect, just enough time. Her phone buzzed, and she read the text. Nia was on her way.
Raven grabbed her bike and a few minutes later, Nia pulled up with her Brown Girls Club jacket on too. Nia smiled and pedaled in front of Raven. Nia had her music turned up on her phone, and Raven made out Drake’s voice. Raven liked to ride in the back. It gave her a chance to look around their neighborhood and really take it all in. She smelled the air and inhaled deep. It was so beautiful to her. The city was rich with history. Raven and her girls enjoyed watching the boats come in at the docks, the fisherman looking for crabs and crawfish. There was always some festival, and one of her favorites was the Voodoo Music Experience. It was held during Halloween weekend, and they had the best food. Raven and her parents dressed up in costumes and went as a family.
Raven loved riding her bike past the large oak trees in town. Some of them were so big they created a canopy and lined the streets over her head; they swayed gracefully with the wind. Blair said their ancestors planted those mighty trees generations ago, and their love for Lake Lacroix and the land kept them growing. Coupled with the crickets, lightning bugs, and the sounds of the water coming from Lake Pontchartrain, it created a beautiful mosaic of so many things Raven loved. It was her home.
Nia and Raven raced down the street, weaving in and out of the road. Raven popped wheelies on her bike, and Nia tried to pop wheelies herself, but she wasn’t having much luck while struggling to take selfies at the same time. Raven heard her phone shake in the basket on her bike. She picked it up and tried to read the alert and steer at the same time. She almost swerved into their neighbor, Mr. Gerald, a few houses down. He was smack dab in her line of fire, and Raven almost took him out. Mr. Gerald screamed and jumped back with his cane. He caught the corner of the mailbox and yelled. “Watch out, girl!” He steadied himself, and his tiny dog barked at her from the porch.
“Charge it to the game!” Raven yelled over her shoulder.
Once Raven balanced herself enough to check her phone, she noticed it was an alert from Instagram. It said: @BallerAmir requests to follow you. Raven’s heart skipped a beat. Amir requested to follow her on Instagram. Raven held her phone to her mouth and exhaled.
Right after she read the alert, Jasmine and Trinity rode up on their bikes, both wearing their Brown Girls Club jackets. Trinity’s brother was in tow. He was weaving in and out of traffic, daring cars to hit him. Raven pushed the alert from IG out of her mind. She would discuss this with the girls later and wanted to keep the news to herself, just a while longer. The girls arrived at Lake Lacroix, and it was a beautiful day. The fishermen were out towing in crawfish, shrimp, and blue crabs. There was a flurry of activity at the docks, and seas of Black people were rushing in different directions. Lake Lacroix was big business. Jasmine took her phone out and put on music. Raven heard H.E.R. from Jasmine’s phone.
The girls tossed their bikes and walked past the gravel. The grassy area was a short walk down to an oak tree by the water. The girls didn’t go past the rocks; the boats coming in made for rough tides. Nia swayed to the music and bobbed her head. Raven was next to feel the music. It wasn’t the same for her, she had to really feel the music before she let loose. Her shoulders and legs moved in unison, and she gyrated her waist and grooved. Raven let the music build up in her, and once it did—she knew nothing would slow her down. She stepped out on her own in front of the group. Trinity and Jasmine moved out of the way, and Nia recorded her with her phone. The Brown Girls Club met Raven with nothing but love.
“Go Raven, go, Raven,” they chanted as she showcased her dance skills. A few of the ladies on the docks saw the girls dancing and nodded their heads in approval.
“Ya’ll don’t hurt ‘em now,” one of them said.
The girls giggled and formed a circle around Raven while she tied her hair up. Trinity, Jasmine, and Nia knew what this meant; Raven was about to put on a show, and they needed to move out her way. Raven preferred to play the background to her girls except when it came to dancing. She could always be the superstar but had to get over her nerves and feel it. When Raven heard the music, it was like something or someone came over her, and she had to move her body.
When the music came on, it took Raven to another place. An older man sat down beside the circle and played a Djembe drum while the girls danced. The music and the beat of the drum hit Raven square in her chest.
Tipitty, tap, tap, boom! Raven could feel each beat of the drum in her heart, radiating throughout her body. People cheered and danced around the girls. Raven’s dancing had turned back the clock, and everyone stopped what they were doing and moved together in unison. Raven embraced it and let the music take control. Her Mom’s voice echoed in her head.
“Baby girl, when you dance, you can transport people to another world.”
She twisted her waist, lifted her arms to the sky, and swung back and forth, listening to all the sounds together. The warm August wind blew lightly, and the air engulfed Raven, cooling her body. Older women, younger women, teenagers all swayed, and the men watched.
Jasmine’s phone rang, interrupting the festivities and putting an end to the music. “Hello?”
she answered, out of breath.
The older ladies sat down to catch their breath. “Whew, chile. Thank God that song ended, my knee was about to give out!” Raven heard someone say. The oldest woman in the group hobbled to Raven and stood in front of her. “Baby, you have a gift . . .use it without shame.” She turned and limped away.
Raven pondered her words.