A Necessary Struggle: Fall Semester

Part 8

 Harmony couldn't shake the pain off. It felt like she'd been in a fight with a jungle cat, leaving deep gashes all over her body, oozing blood and throbbing at every move she made. Unfortunately, her wounds weren't caused by any feline. If they were she could just go to the hospital, get them bandaged and pop a Vicodin. No, this was no ordinary pain. The culprit wasn't some massive cat lurking in the midst; claws didn't cause these gashes. People that supposedly loved her caused these wounds; betrayal, anger, and confusion were inflicting her pain.

Her world was turned upside down. This wasn't how she planned this day to go. When she woke up this morning she dawned a Kool-Aid smile. She planned for '90s night after Cairo told her he pitched it to Carlos, the manager of Pulse. She spent weeks picking outfits that were a mash-up of Aaliyah and TLC. But when she got back to her apartment she wasn't the carefree girl that was daring enough to wear silk pajamas outside the confines of her apartment or energized enough to straighten her hair.

At least the music at Pulse was loud, silencing the thoughts swarming around in her head. Biggie's One More Chance started playing and hordes of twenty-somethings danced to the infectious beat, grinding to the rhythm. She envied them.

"That was supposed to be me dancing on the floor." Harmony said with a red strobe light shining in her face.

"Then go." Cairo gestured to the floor while pondering if Missy Elliot's Hot Boyz was the right song to play next. "Turn up. What's stopping you?"

"I'm not in the mood." She pouted folding her arms beginning to sulk.

"Girl, shake it off. So what, Mr. Monroe isn't your dad. He raised you like he was. Stop tripping."

Cairo was a freak of nature. He could adapt to any crisis life flung in his path. He didn't meticulously ponder over things he had no control over. Harmony wondered if he said the Serenity Prayer every morning in the mirror as his mantra or if he was just that easygoing. He was the type that bunkered down in the midst of a hurricane. While she high tailed it out of town before the first raindrop splashed on the asphalt.

"I'm grateful but why lie." She tediously rubbed her temples. "Why make me believe we're the downsized version of the Huxtable's?"

Harmony's brain was giving her the problem. It was built with roads and tunnels, traveling one place, believing one thing; her mama was her mama and her dad was her dad. Now, her brain was under construction trying to break ground for a detour.

Cairo pulled off his white Beats, "You said this dude, Laurent—your bio-dad was in the army, right." Harmony nodded. "Maybe they thought he would die over there or something; they wanted to save you the heartbreak."

She reluctantly nodded. It would've been tragic if she came home from elementary one day to find out her father was dead. She would have to process that sorrow while at recess. But, if he died while fighting in Iraq, she would have memories, photos, videos, and conversations to comfort her lost.

"Even if he did die they should've told me. He's half of me."

"Then, stop being offended." His voice inclined with a sense of urgency. "Be thankful that he didn't die, stop feeling sorry for yourself. You said you should've been told. Now you know. Whatever happens next is your choice."

As she started to understand her parent's unique arrangement, resentment still sprouted along the rough, broken ground for the detour to Laurent Avenue.

"I know. I know." She agreed. "I can't stand it when you're right."

"We've been tight since freshman year. You should be used to it by now. I'm always right, girl. Don't fight it."