My aunt’s house had a swing on the porch and flowers and pretty rocks on each side of the steps, and the grass was a green that would hurt your eyes if you stared at it too long.

No one on the block stepped on other people’s grass. In my neighborhood, there wasn’t any grass to protect. We had a bunch of dirt, no trees, and trash tornadoes spinning around on windy days. It was everyone’s and no one’s building, so we couldn’t love it like you’d care for a house of your own. Kids punished it with markers and spray paint. They peed on the stairs. They tossed Cheeto bags on the ground and spit sunflower seeds on the elevator floor. But even though Auntie Nora’s house was nice, it faced other houses on a tiny street. When I looked out my window, I saw the sky and clouds and sun. It was the only thing we had going for us in the projects; the view was amazing.

Three trains went by my building: in the distance, the Red Line El, the Metra, and a freight train that moved incredibly slow, and made the most noise, carrying huge boxes. Outside of the window everything was moving away. Maybe it was a warning that things rarely stayed the same.

As soon as I climbed out of the car, Auntie Nora leaped from the porch swing and clamped me into a tight hug with her bony arms, calling me “Fish!” and filling my hands with fake jewelry she’d ordered from Avon catalogs. I was the girl she tried to have, while Meechie was the boy that Uncle Tim used to be: curious, strong, and misunderstood. They had one thirteen-year-old son, my cousin Tim Junior, who we called TJ. The only thing he had in common with me and Meechie was our genetics.

We split up into teams of girls and boys, so me and Auntie Nora jumped into her red Altima and zipped over to Evergreen Plaza, this huge mall that was only a few minutes away.

Auntie Nora always had questions about Mama, but I had been warned about talking too much. Even though Mama and Auntie Nora were sisters, they still kept secrets, something I didn’t understand at the time. I thought if I had a sister, I’d tell her everything.

She wanted to know about the buildings, and that’s when I remembered that she used to live in 4950 too, that once, she and Mama were like me and Meechie: just kids running up and down the porches and buying candy from someone like Ms. Rose.