THE FLOW

Issue #008

I take a deep inhale of the Chicago oxygen and my happiness skyrockets. Oxytocin receptors in my brain crash and I frolic in the joys of returning home. The only person I imagine has such a feeling is Odysseus, making it home when Calypso finally freed him. The brisk winds of the September air blowing affirm the return of silk press season as my locs lift with every gust.

O'Hare Airport may have attempted to cut my happiness short, but that all rolls off of my shoulders as I approach the front steps of my friends' apartment overlooking State Street.

A beautiful two bedroom apartment meant for two single ladies sounds like something they'd divulge in the past. Me, I've always wanted to see the world. When they stayed behind at Spelman after I left, the roles reversed. They came back homesick by their graduation. By mine, I was ready to book it the moment the best opportunity presented itself. This explains exactly how I wound up in New York City as they stayed in Chicago.

Knocking on the locked door, I skip past their chances to trivialize the guest requesting access to their kingdom. "It's Lenny! Let me in, girl!" Though my reply may be a little too afro-centric for the kind of building they reside in, it's authentic enough for the door to be pulled open with an expected quickness.

"Ahhh!" Rasheeda squeals, pulling me into her arms the second her door shuts. "When did you get here?" Laughing as we rock side to side, I give her the minor details of my journey. When I'm finished, she's grinning just as hard as I am. "Well, I'm happy you had a safe flight! I've missed you, girl!"

Eyes scanning the apartment, I notice the missing link in our chain. "Where's Sylvia?"

"Sylvia!"

The third brown-skinned beauty in the unit emerges from the back with a closed-mouth smile on her face, open arms prepared to welcome me with warmth. Her switch is slicker than her mouth as she comes to Rasheeda and I.

"I see the superstar is in the building," she sings, chuckles dipping into her tone. "And I see you're still a woman of the fashions too," she compliments. "If you're looking like this, I can't even fathom what Lyric's looking like these days in her hiding."

How early she's starting today is a brand new record, one I didn't expect her to still be intent on breaking.

Rasheeda and I met in middle school, but Sylvia didn't come until we were in high school. Coming to the suburbs from Whitney Young placed a chip on her shoulders we've never understood. We all seemed well-off but Sylvia somehow managed to be the best off, her father being an attorney for the Chicago Bears' board of administration. It was cool for the time, I think. Who doesn't love football?

Then, the first Lyric album came out before we finished high school. Everything changed from that point on, as if I was the one getting up on the stage every night. The attention wasn't on Sylvia and the Chicago Bears. Lenny hung out with Prince & The Revolution, took a picture with Shalamar, and danced with Eddie Murphy. The attention shifted after I was photographed with my cousin at her album release party and thrown into Right On! Magazine as a nameless cutie in her entourage. Everything shifted. I don't recall if I'd even reached the big 1-8 just yet. I only remember the sudden raising of my value in places throughout the city...

And Sylvia being angry that she was another girl who just wanted to have fun instead of going to more Bears football games.

I laugh off her inclusion of Nelly as Rasheeda drags me to the couch. "Guess where we just went last week," she grins.

"Where?"

Retrieving a uniquely crafted brown napkin from her coffee table, she takes me all the way back to my teenage years. "Oh my God! Y'all went to Mikey's?" My laughter is let loose as I marvel at the artifact. Mikey's was our favorite subway shop to frequent after school when we were in junior high. Rasheeda, me, and Doris were gunning to that place almost every day.