The next morning Daddy’s still in bed and the whole house seems to still be asleep. But I woke up on my own. Right away, I washed the stupid press ’n’ curl out of my hair. My Afro was a soft, round moon around my head. I found four rubber bands that I used to make four pigtails that stand up like antennas. (Granddaddy tells me that when I use my imagination location, the very ends of my pigtails light up like fireflies. Momma just frowns and looks for her hot comb.) Then, I put on my Superman T-shirt and matching shorts set (it’s for boys so Granddaddy bought it for me and Momma doesn’t like it one bit). The stiff, ironed-on S feels like the burlap potato sacks Momma keeps in the kitchen, and the whole outfit will make me sweat like a hog because of all that polyester, as Momma says. But I don’t care. I’m Superman. So, I fly down the stairs and make myself a bowl of cornflakes with milk. There’s no one around to see the little smile on my face or the spring in my step. My soulglow, as Granddaddy calls it.
I let this soulglow take over my body from my kinky hair down to my funky toes because today is the day that I will save Captain Fleet from the clutches of the Sonic King, and save Bianca Pluto from the spell of the nefarious minionettes!
I’m standing in the doorway, staring out at the broken, raggedy brownstone soldiers lined up along the street. I glance down the block. The nefarious minions are gone. The minionettes are not jumping rope. Only an old man strolls by pushing a cart full of plastic bags. He nods at me and tips his dusty black hat.
Then, I look up at the clear blue sky. Yesterday’s Sonic Boom has dispersed and I wonder if it’s Captain Fleet’s doing from behind the Sonic King’s prison walls.
“Why are you up so early, Broomstick?” Daddy asks from inside the house.
His voice makes me jump and I step back in and shut the door. “Where is everybody?” I ask.
“It’s Sunday,” he says, coming down the last few steps wearing a dingy T-shirt and cut-off blue jeans. I get my knobby knees from my daddy, but not his hairy legs, thank goodness. “Things slow down in the city on Sundays. It almost feels like Alabama.” He comes over and puts his arm around my shoulders to pull me into the living room. “Almost like Alabama. Now, look here, Broomstick. I got some work to do so why don’t you go watch some TV, have some more cereal, and take it easy for a while? Get acclimated to your new home.”
He walks away on the word home and I want him to take it back. This is not my new home, and I will not get acclimated. He disappears into the kitchen and I race to the front door and into that cool Sunday morning No Joke City air.
I take a moment to make sure none of the nefarious minions are watching me. But the coast isn’t completely clear. A lady and two boys walk by. The kids stare at me and I stare back. I take a few steps down the stairs. They look familiar. But they’re both wearing disguises that make it hard for me to tell if they are indeed the nefarious minions: long pants, white shirts, and neckties. The older one sticks his tongue out at me and I immediately recognize him as the Pigeon-Chest boy! I stick my tongue out at him, too, extra long, putting my whole face into it. “I will crush you!” I call out.
He keeps looking back and making ugly faces at me, until he almost trips and his momma pulls his ear telling him to hurry.
I stand on the steps waiting for any other nefarious minions to come out of their hiding places wearing shirt-and-tie disguises. A lady walks by with a wide church hat and waves.
“You must be Julius’s girl,” she says, stopping right outside the rusty black iron gate. “I’ll come by later to drop off a plate from church, if you like?”
I only nod.
She smiles and walks away, thank goodness.
Finally, the coast is clear. If I remember correctly, there’s a secret portal beneath the stoop that leads to Bianca Pluto’s lair. I head down to it and look around for a doorbell. There isn’t one, but before I get to knocking really hard, the door opens and a woman wearing a hat just as fancy as that other lady’s opens the door.
She gasps, smiles big and wide, and reaches for my face. I step back before she even lays a finger on me.
“E-bone-y!” she sings.
She pronounces my name with an accent, stretching the bone sound. It’s Bianca’s abuela, Señora Luz.
“So good to see you. Oh, you got so big!” She gets ahold of my shoulder and motions for me to turn around like all the other grandmothers do down in Huntsville. She giggles as if I’m one big joke. Poor Señora Luz. They got her, too.
Bianca comes out right behind her grandmother and the sight of her makes my eyes pop out. She’s in disguise, too!
“Hi, Ebony-Grace,” she says really soft.
She’s wearing a sky-blue fluffy dress that looks like a layer cake. Her hair is even curlier, but neater than yesterday.
“Bianca Pluto, are you okay?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes. A sure sign that some otherworldly entity has gotten ahold of her mind.
“What happened? Did something happen to you, Bianca?” Señora Luz asks her granddaughter.
Bianca rolls her eyes again, and I’m sure that she won’t tell her grandmother the truth.
I inhale deep and brace myself to be an agent of truth, a messenger of good, a princess of peace. “I’m sorry to report, Señora Luz—” I start to say.
“The Sonic Boom!” Bianca cuts me off. “You should’ve seen it, Abuela, it was all over the sky!”
A warm, bright smile starts to rise from a deep place in my belly. It eases up to my throat and it’s trying to make its way out of my mouth and through my face so that I shine like the sun—my soulshine! It’s more than just a soulglow. But I stop it. I force it back down because Daddy is peering over the steps and looking down at us. I can’t let him see me smile. I can’t let him see me happy.
“Broomstick, why’d you leave the house without telling me?” he asks.
Señora Luz steps out of the doorway, wearing a purple dress with tiny flowers. “Julio, it’s so good to see your daughter. Look at how big she got. Why don’t you let her come to church with us?”
“Fine by me. Is that okay with you, Broomstick?”
Before I even answer, Señora Luz says, “But you have to put on a nice dress.”