“First thing I notice is that Sweat got a black eye, busted lip, and he frowning. I sat next to him. We just stared at some girls popping all over the TV. I knew he got jumped in that day but he wasn’t going to talk about it. I just asked, ‘Where the story?’ He shook his head from side to side. ‘Tomorrow?’ He did it again, this time, faster. I just went back to bed.”

Her eyes got glossy, but she didn’t cry. I could tell, even though she didn’t say it, she cried herself to sleep that night. I knew too that she broke into this story so that I could prepare myself for the day that somebody burned Meechie’s books.

Eight
Bombs Bursting in Air

We had time to change the mood before Tonya showed up that day, but I kept thinking about Stacia’s story the whole time we played in the square.

When Tonya eventually arrived in some of the new clothes Mama gave her, smelling like the perfumed lotion, I told my friends that Mama said they were invited to join us for a trip downtown for the big fireworks event in Grant Park, which was held every year on July 3rd. So, for a while, they got all excited about going to see that, and I stopped thinking about Stacia’s sad Sweat story.

Mama took me out of the neighborhood all the time, but Precious lived at her church, and both Stacia’s and Tonya’s lives seemed tethered to the block, so I knew a field trip was just what we all needed.

We had a few days to get ready for the trip, and we would all have colorful outfits and, thanks to Mama, freshly braided hair. We smiled at the thought of getting dressed up for an outing. You couldn’t tell none of us that we weren’t the cutest girls in the world.

On July 3rd, when the bus arrived, I wanted to sit next to Tonya. I let everybody go ahead of me. Stacia rushed on first and found a window seat, and Precious sat next to her. When Tonya got on, I let her have the window in our two-seater, and Mama sat behind us.

I enjoyed watching Tonya watch people out on the street. When the bus stopped to pick up more passengers, we all turned around to see who would get on. With thousands of people living on each block of South State Street, in those days, there was always something to see. We were easily amused, so if someone had to run to catch the bus, we’d crack up at their struggle.