Everyday Black Matters
Do you love little warrior girl stories? I do.
My life-long next door neighbor, Jerald had a decrepit garage. His Dad worked on cars night and day, often filling every available inch of land they owned with cars & parts. Visible from our backyard, their garage was 20 yards away and appeared to be a garish set from a Friday the 13th film. The side we saw clearly from our picturesque yard in which Ma spent hours gardening, was a gaping, menacing hole caused by fire damage. What was left of the roof was blackened by smoke and frail with rotted wood. The garage was leprous. The sides were at many different levels giving the appearance that the entire “structure” (and I use that word liberally) could collapse at the slightest provocation. Chalked floor to ceiling with greasy, old car parts it hosted a remarkable number of rats, stray cats and dogs who chose it’s shelter over harsh Michigan winter conditions. It functioned as storage for everything Jerald’s Dad never wanted to see again.
Also? On this particular day, my perfect hide and seek hiding spot.
Jerald, Jaron, Missy, Sterling, Kwaku, Cofi, Ke-Ke & I being professional hide and seek players typically avoid the death trap until the day I convinced myself reigning supreme as QUEEN BEE over hide and seek would be worth the effort. The Tom boy, dirt monger, football playin’, warrior princess little girl that I was ran high on adrenaline, risk and certain victory.
I plunged in.
A decision I have never regretted…despite my injuries.
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