Hidden Valley (D. SWING)

XX. On Our Own

My final day in Charlotte starts with my head cocked to the side as I scrunch my body together, trying to remain stuffed in one spot, sleeping in a closet. I can say it ain't that bad but it is. I'm not Dalvin. I don't hide in closets and under beds until a girl can sneak me out. I'm too tall for all of that. Yet, here I am. My arms fold across my chest like one of the Egyptian mummies you'd see in Indiana Jones, neck cocked to the side as I use Paulette's winter coat as a pillow. My dreams of Janet Jackson and Jasmine Guy are long gone. I'm lucky nightmares of Boy George don't haunt me. All I can bring myself to dream of is getting the hell out of here.

Carefully, with a touch gentle enough to disarm a bomb, Paulette pulls open the doors to her closet. "Come on," she softly whispers. "They're sleep." She steps away, giving me the space to finally sprawl out my legs. I feel my bones aching as they're stretched out after I've been in this closet for only God knows how long. Behind Paulette, on her bed, my bag sits packed with all of my things. I trust that she won't forget anything. A single sign of me having been here all this time and her ass is grass in a cemetery.

"You not making me go out the window, is you?"

Her deadpan is a single glare as her body halts its movements. "No, dummy." She pushes me away with a scold. The digital clock on her nightstand hits 4:44 AM. I turn away, trying my best to subdue my stifled laughter escaping my pursed lips. I pick up the bag already packed for me as we tip toe out of her bedroom, venturing into the adventurous unknown of her home's hallways.

Paulette leads me down the dark hallway. Streaks of cornflower blue peak through the thin slices of the blinds occupying Evelyn's bedroom window and spill out into the hallway as we walk past, illuminating a trail more significant than the yellow brick road. My every step as I descend down the staircase feels like I'm crushing dozens of the eggshells I'm walking on with this exit. On my final step, my boot scuffs the bottom of the stair. A squeak-like screech of the inanimate altercation is created along with a long black mark across the final step that decides to stay behind. Paulette and I freeze in place, listening for any sign of her parents waking up.

Gritting through her teeth, she points at me. "What the fuck is yo' problem?" A silent apology is all I can offer through my worried eyes as I wait for my green light to continue creeping to the back door. "Pick your damn feet up, D." The sincerity in her tone isn't enough for me to stop squinting at the dark figure appearing behind her. When I point, they finally enter the well lit half of the downstairs hallway and expose themselves as Kitty. That's a heart-attack I'd never recover from.

Kitty's sister never flinched at the sudden appearance of the fourteen-year-old. She didn't miss a beat cursing me out with all of her tough love and displaced fear. I can't protest anything she says, too busy trying to reclaim my heartbeat after I almost dropped dead. Instead, I let her push me out the back door with nothing more than a 'see you later' leaving her lips as I jog down the driveway to my car that was strategically parked on the street, two houses over. Me and the fellas are going to have a going away cookout over out by the lake today. Me and Dalvin can't cook but Joe and Cedric sure can. It won't be nothing for them to throw some meat on the grill. Everybody gone bring a dish and five dollars to chill. We got to make our travel money back. I for sure will see her again.

"Don, what you doin' over there, man?

I yell, "I'm fixin' to start spinning some records if y'all don't skip these wack ass tracks!"

The music being played isn't up to par but everything else is. Beautiful women with iced coke bottles to match their bodies are here and making the scene worth being seen. Just like I predicted, Jekyll and Hyde— K-Ci and JoJo— are taking turns on the grill fucking it up. Dalvin collected the money of everybody attending and I'm just straight chilling, posted up on the lake's dock. Walking around looking all kinds of fine was Peter Dwell's little sister, my old next door neighbors from when I was growing up. I take note of Serena, Peter's sister, having a conversation as it keeps me from approaching her until I'm approached on my own.