Elle Jones

Chapter 21: It's Always Crazy in Queens

Hours increased on the clock as Austin, Erykah, and I sat boredly in our leather seats.

Scorching rays burned our faces as the sun pursues our trail. The atmosphere in the car wasn't as stuffy as outside, but I could still feel it growing on my shoulder like wet mold.

With his left hand on the steering wheel, Austin takes a deep breath as he slowly navigated his way around bright yellow taxi cabs, stubborn drivers, and neon traffic lights.

In the meantime, I reached into my backpack, found a pair of black sunglasses inside one of my rain jackets, put them on, then look into the distance.

Menacing gray clouds turned white as cotton as the enormous sky remained the color of pale blue. And with the sun being out, I believed the temperature wouldn't be as cold as yesterday. Curious, I rolled my window down, I stick out my right arm and smile when I noticed my small hairs danced vibrantly, like an anemone's tentacles waving in the sea.

Back and forth, they went—tickling my bare skin. And as the warm sun hit my face, it was the first time that I have ever felt free. In fact, I had enjoyed it; the wind shaking my dreadlocks, the fresh air rushing inside the car, I became drunk with happiness. 

It was nice getting away.

Away from Joseph, pain, and strife.

Brushing back my hazelnut dreadlocks, I leaned my head against my seat, removed my shoes and socks, and plopped my bare feet against the dashboard.

"What are you doing?" asked Austin, who was staring at my feet.

"I am acquiring the taste of freedom," I answer, taking in the sun.

Austin stared at me some more. "You do know that this SUV has air conditioning, right?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Yeah, but it breaks down every five minutes."

He frowns indignantly. "No, it does not."

Even Erykah nodded.

"Yeah it does," she claims, frowning. "No offense and all, but whenever the A/C comes on, it blows cold air for three seconds then it shuts itself off."

"You need a new air conditioner," I say.

"And one of those car fresheners," added Erykah. "It smells like someone died in here."

Rolling his eyes, Austin shuts off the air conditioner and continues driving.

Passing buildings, restaurants, and establishments, my eyes lazily drifted from the tiny veins on my arm to my smooth fingertips.

This feels nice, I think, feeling the invisible breeze.

Closing my eyes, I sighed aloud.

Once again, the sun bathed my face in its earthly glow. Long hazelnut brown dreadlocks bounced on my shoulders, but I was too relaxed to care.

As a big smile grew onto my pale pink lips, I thought about smoking a joint. But then my mind raced back to Erykah, who—like me—is watching the scene unfold.

Taking off my sunglasses, I examined the fourteen-year-old girl carefully.

Her light coconut skinned hands brushed against the window's surface, as Erykah's curious brown eyes marveled at Manhattan roads, people, and buildings.

The more I watch her, the more I can picture myself in Erykah's mind. When I was her age, I felt as though the world is my enemy. 

I hated Joseph, Isadora, and pretty much anyone who had made my life a living hell. But in spite of this, I was excellent in school.