our adventure

“We want to get a taste of life in the 'hood,” Romy said. “Take us to your old neighborhood.”

I looked at Sloane, the more sensitive of the two, hoping that she would intervene. I hoped that she would say that it wasn't a good idea. I hoped that she would say that being poor isn't a late afternoon excursion. Being poor isn't a view through a rolled up window of a luxury car. Being poor isn't something that you can turn on and off at will. But Sloane said nothing, so into Romy's BMW we piled, heading south on Broad Street, away from West Mt. Airy wealth.

“Make a left here,” I heard myself say, navigating my way back to hell.

“Here we go,” Romy said, grinning with mischief.

I caught Sloane's eye in one of the mirrors of the sleek car. I tried to keep the pleading out of my eyes, but I guess I couldn't because Sloane shifted her gaze.

“Girl, we can probably find us some real men down here,” Romy oozed. “Like him.” She nodded her head in the direction of Juaquin, Zelda's brother, who was standing on the corner. Zelda's brother, who has six kids by five different women. Zelda's brother, who has a hit out on him because he dropped the dime on one of the Eighth and Butler hustlers. Zelda's brother, who dropped out of school in eighth grade. Zelda's brother, who will die soon, leaving six children, six brothers and sisters, to be raised by five different women.

“Papi's got edge,” Romy giggled. “He reminds me of your cousin Gerald.”

Sloane responded, “Gerald was like that before getting locked up. He's changed. You know that.”

Romy ignored her, intent on exploring the “dark” side of the city. This was an adventure to her. A mission she would never truly understand, nor would she ever even try.

And as she glowed, I faded.