After Precious calmed things down, we went back to jumping rope and played round after round, sometimes singing songs, other times jumping and listening to the sounds of the block. Woody and Earl were winos, but they could really sing. We loved the way their voices sounded in the stairway, a layered echo. They sang songs that we recognized as the “dusties” that made the soundtrack of our hairdos and cleaning days. My mama couldn’t get anything done without listening to V103, her favorite radio station. This day, Woody and Earl harmonized a tune from the Spinners called “Games People Play.” Not long after they’d passed by with their sweet song, we heard the rumbling of a stampede.

When people ran down the stairs in groups, it sounded like an angry herd of beasts. The feet slowed down and stopped on our floor. Ricky, Derrick, and Jon Jon rushed into the square, pretending to jump rope, mimicking our girlish mannerisms and singing rope songs they’d heard us belting out on the school playground. They were a little crew like us.

With the exception of Tonya, we were all in Ms. Pierce’s class. At school, we had to be kind and respectful to each other, because Ms. Pierce made us act like a loving family, but back at the building, we pretended we couldn’t stand one another; none of us really knew what to do with the actual affection that we felt. It seemed like a flaw to have these emotions. We didn’t know then that the practice of burying emotions created adults who’d struggle to build meaningful relationships; some of us would eventually completely forget how to access true feelings. In my family, we expressed love in many ways, reaching out to touch an arm in a sad moment or smothering one another in a hug, but I knew, even from a very young age, that this behavior was rarely meant for people outdoors.

“Come on,” Ricky said to Stacia, “turn it.”

His face changed to serious as he concentrated, then rocked his chest back and forth, following one of the ropes. Stacia’s arms flew out wider than they needed to, and she popped her hips while blowing these huge bubbles with her wad of Bubblicious gum.

“Just jump in,” I said, laughing. Then he did it. Stacia and Tonya turned the rope around him. We were shocked at how he jumped in and skipped over the ropes like he did this all the time. Ricky was one of those kids who could play any sport you threw his way.