Flyy Girl

by Omar Tyree

  • • •

  The dance performance was a huge success. All of the parents and plenty of guests watched the sixteen girls display what they had learned over ten weeks of dance lessons on a large theater stage on Broad Street. Raheema was happy for the first time in a long time. She was receiving an opportunity to be rewarded for something other than report cards. She danced her heart away, especially for her father. She wanted him to be proud of her. Even Tracy’s father, Dave, had made it out for the evening.

  “Are you doing anything tomorrow night?” Tracy asked Raheema while gathering their things inside of the dressing room. She figured she would try and turn a new leaf with her neighbor.

  “No. I have a lot of work to do,” Raheema answered her, still overjoyed about the event.

  “Do you think you can go to a party with me tomorrow?” Tracy pressed her.

  Raheema shook her head, still smiling. “I’m not interested in parties.”

  “Why not?”

  Raheema sighed, tired of having to explain things to Tracy. “Tracy, I’m just different from you. I mean, I don’t get all excited about boys and parties and stuff.”

  “Well, you were excited about this show,” Tracy reminded her.

  “Yeah, because I was interested in this.”

  Well, I tried, Tracy thought. “Okay then.”

  Tracy got ready to go to the first big-time party of her life. It was “a dollar a holler” to get in. Everyone from the neighborhood would be there.

  Tracy took a shower, washed and blow-dried her hair, put on some new underwear and snuck some of Patti’s perfume. She decided to wear a blue silk shirt with an off-white vest and pants set with her blue suede boots. She clipped on all three of her gold chains and was ready to head to the party, smelling good and looking good. She called Jantel over so she wouldn’t have to walk to the party by herself.

  Plenty of teenagers were out that night, all heading to Carmen’s house-party. Tracy eyed all of the young hoodlums, trying to spot the one that fit Victor’s description. Only a few people were dancing when Tracy and Jantel had made it inside of the packed basement. It was still early, so most of the teens stood around bobbing to the DJ’s beats.

  Tracy recognized several of the boys whom she had had a crush on over the years. Aaron Barnes was there with his friends, Amir with his, and even Steve was there. They all gazed at her, remembering when she was theirs, wishing that they could have another chance.

  Tracy had never looked as good as she did at Carmen’s party. The high school girls were staring at her as well, as if Tracy was too much for her own good.

  While waiting for Victor and the older guys to strut in, Tracy was shocked to see Travis and Bob walk through the door with their crew.

  Bob noticed Tracy immediately. He then pulled her by her hand for a dance. Tracy refused him, but Bob wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. He grabbed her hand and pushed her into a corner. “Come on, now, dance with me.”

  “Stop. I don’t feel like it,” Tracy told him, pulling away.

  “Naw, you gon’ dance with me,” he persisted, smelling of marijuana again.

  He dragged Tracy to the dance floor. She gave in, but she no longer cared how cute Bob was. He was a drug addict. She continued to watch the stairs for Victor over Bob’s shoulder.

  Peppy shouted down the steps as he crashed the party with eight other guys, “YO-O-O, THE BOYS ARE IN THE HOUSE!”

  Tracy said, “Hold up, Bob, I’ll be right back.” She hastily jerked Jantel’s hand through the packs of teenagers. “Which one is Victor?” she asked in Jantel’s ear.

  Jantel looked through the crowd to spot Victor. “He’s not over there,” she said, still squinting in the direction of the rowdy party-crashers.

  Tracy was pressed. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I could spot him easily. Victor always stands out. He’s not over there with them.”

  Across the room, a sleepy-eyed boy asked Peppy, “Yo, where Vic at, man?”

  Peppy smiled. “He’s wit’ that flyy-ass girl we met downtown in The Gallery.”

  “Oh, for real? He’s always with some girl, ain’t he?”

  “Ay, man, some of us got it like that.”

  the fast lanes

  a loss of virginity

  “Come on, mom!”

  “Look, girl, I said I was comin’!” Patti shouted.

  Tracy was impatiently waiting with Jason, ready to go to the mall. “Dag, you always takin’ all day.”

  “You know what, Tracy, if I hear you say another word, I’m gon’ smack your mouth off!”

  “Sit down, boy, dag. I’m tired of you,” Tracy said, forcing Jason to sit on the couch. Patti stormed down the stairs and grabbed her. Tracy broke her hold, dashing quickly away to avoid her.

  “Girl, come here, because I told you about that,” Patti said, dressed in a purple jogging suit with white tennis shoes. Her daughter had thrown on some raggedy jeans and an old blue Guess shirt.

  Tracy laughed. “What I do, mom?”

  “See, you think I’m playing with you. Don’t you? You keep acting up, Tracy, and you won’t get any summer clothes.”

  “Come on, mom, it ain’t even worth all that.”

  They went to the Cheltenham Mall to shop for summer outfits. Since Carmen’s party, nearly three months ago, Tracy still had not been able to see this guy named Victor. She had been to four more parties since then, and he was never there. Nevertheless, she continued to think about him.

  Tracy and her mother shopped for bargains from one store to the next as Jason tagged along, pouting. Everyone was interested in Hawaiian shorts, so Tracy gathered several pair with matching colored socks. She bought two pair of sunglasses, a Hawaiian cloth pocketbook and a pair of white leather sandals.

  Jason, tired of being cooped up inside of department stores, dashed away from his sister’s hand after coming out of Gimbels. Tracy ran after him. Jason ran through and around people before she finally caught him. She then marched him back to Patti, who stood smiling. Jason twisted and pulled, trying to get away, but Tracy had a tight grip on his kid-sized jumper.

  “He’s fast, mom,” she said, surprised.

  “I know. Maybe he can run track or something.”

  “Yup. Maybe,” Tracy agreed, maintaining a grip on her brother as he continued to try and twist free.

  “N-o-o-o,” he wailed.

  Patti said, “Look, I’m going over to sit on this bench. Why don’t you take him to get some ice cream?” She pointed to the store and gave Tracy five dollars.

  Jason squealed, jumping up and down, “Y-a-a-a-y.”

  “Hold up, boy,” Tracy told him.

  She ordered eggnog for her brother and butter pecan for herself. She then noticed a couple walking toward her as she and Jason headed back to their mother. The boy was slightly taller than Tracy, wearing a white Adidas sweat suit and Nike sneakers. His dark, chocolate-brown skin vividly stood out from the bright white clothing he wore. His face was smoothly handsome, and he had a sharp blocked haircut with an attractive pair of connecting eyebrows. His confident smile soothed Tracy’s soul.

  The girl he was with was the same bright, honey-brown tone as Tracy, with short-cut asymmetric hair. She was wearing sunglasses, a pair of Hawaiian-colored pants, a red shirt, and matching red socks, and she was carrying a light-brown leather pocketbook.

  Tracy felt embarrassed that she had left the house wearing a pair of wrinkled pants and a shirt. She was envious because she did not have a boyfriend to walk hand-in-hand inside of the mall with. Her butter pecan ice cream cone had lost its flavor. Tracy walked back to her mother, long-faced.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Patti asked her.

  “Nothin’,” Tracy responded, sitting on the bench next to her mother.

  “Shucks, girl, you look like you just lost your best friend.”

  Tracy chuckled, continuing to stare at the couple. The forgotten ice cream began to drip down her hands.

  �
�Look what you’re doing. It’s getting all over you,” her mother warned her.

  “I got it, mom!” Tracy licked her hand, watching as the couple ordered their own ice cream, and the girl paid for it. They began to walk through the mall again as a crew of boys hurried from behind to catch up to them.

  One boy shouted, “YO VIC! HOLD UP, MAN!”

  Tracy immediately sat alert, appearing to be energized. It was him!

  The boys shook Victor’s hand as his girlfriend waited at his side. Tracy was pressed to get another look at him. She waited for his friends to leave, and then watched as Victor and his Hawaiian-dressed companion went inside of a record store.

  “Mom, I’ll be right back,” she told her mother.

  “Boy, your sister thinks she’s grown,” Patti said to her son as she watched her daughter switching through the mall.

  Tracy strolled into the record store plotting on getting close to Victor, but Hawaiian-girl was too close to him. She held three cassette tapes in her hand: New Edition, Rick James and DeBarge. Tracy took peeks at Victor’s handsome dark face as she skimmed through the Pop section. He had perfect features. He does look pretty, she thought as she watched him.

  When Tracy decided to circle them, Victor caught her eye. For an instant, she was breathless as her heart jumped with excitement. Victor quickly turned away, and Tracy felt broken-hearted, yearning for his attention.

  She walked out, slowly, misled by her attraction to him and thinking, He’ll never talk to me. Victor, like a train, zoomed by her with money in his hands. Tracy quickened her pace behind him to see where he was headed. Victor stopped in the middle of her path, like a car at a red light. Tracy slowed down, feeling silly while she wondered if he knew that she was following him. She thought then about her sloppy clothes and wished she had never gotten close. But Victor smiled at her.

  “Ay, come here. Ain’t your name Tracy?” he asked.

  She obediently came to him. “Yeah. How you know?” she asked, gasping.

  “Because, I heard you was one of the flyyest young-girls around the way. And I’ve seen you before,” he told her. “You live on Diamond Lane, right?” he asked, looking over her tall curved frame.

  Tracy’s rep had surprisingly grown. Even Victor has heard about me, she told herself with a grin. “How you know that?” she wanted to know.

  “Oh, I’ve been watchin’ you,” he said, backing away with a smile that was worth taking a picture of.

  Patti noticed their brief chat as her daughter headed back to the bench. “Are you ready to go?” she asked.

  Tracy nodded as her mother got up from her rest with her son in hand and walked toward the exit.

  “Do you know that boy you were talking to?” Patti asked her daughter, curiously.

  “Yeah,” Tracy lied, keeping her cool. She didn’t really know him; she had only heard things about him while longing to meet him one day.

  “Well, that boy is somethin’ else,” Patti responded.

  Tracy lost her poise. “Why you say that?” she asked, excitedly.

  Patti shook her head. “He was at the hoagie shop with a whole heap of guys and beat some boy up. I felt sorry for the boy, but to hell if I was gonna get involved in it with the way these kids act today. They don’t have respect for anyone.”

  “Why, what he do?” Tracy asked.

  “The boy apparently said he was gonna get him for messing with his girlfriend. Yup, girl, this was three nights ago, when I was coming home from work.”

  “Well, how come you didn’t tell me about that?”

  Patti frowned. “What, I have to report to my thirteen-year-old daughter everything I see or do? I didn’t figure that you knew the boy. How old is he anyway?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “Sixteen! God, that boy looks young,” Patti responded, shocked. “He got one of those baby faces. He looks your age, to me.”

  Tracy chuckled as they climbed inside of the car in the parking lot.

  Patti began to think about her husband, Dave, and his baby face. She missed not being able to share everything with him. A half of a man didn’t seem like much of a man at all. Yet no one else interested her. She had tried the dating game before, only to come up empty, especially with Dave popping up around them the way he did.

  “Tracy, would you like to go to the movies with us?” Patti suddenly asked her daughter.

  Tracy looked puzzled. “I didn’t know y’all were going to the movies,” she said, looking back at Jason, who sat fastened inside of the backseat without a clue.

  “Well, I figured since we’re already up here and it’s still early, then why not?”

  Tracy thought about getting home to tell Jantel the news. She then noticed the empty look on her mother’s face and made an easy decision. Her mother was lonely. “Okay, mom. I’ll go.”

  Patti looked as if a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She had not been spending much time with her children while sweating over her situation with Dave, and even though it was only a movie, it was better than going back to an empty house.

  Tracy then convinced her mother to walk back through the mall instead of driving around to the theater.

  “You just want to see that boy again,” Patti told her with a smile.

  Tracy giggled. That’s right, she thought. Yet Victor was nowhere in sight.

  Once they had arrived back at home, Tracy put her new clothes away and went outside to sit on her steps before the sun went down. It was a beautiful Saturday in April. She felt wonderful after meeting Victor. He had the self-assurance of a king and was charming like a prince. He even seemed thoughtful and informed. He probably knows more about me than I know about him, Tracy mused. And his eyes; they just go right through you! If he ever touched her, Tracy thought she would lose control. No wonder Victor had so many girls. He made her feel special, filling her day with just a minute of his time, and he said that he was watching her.

  Raheema and her mother pulled up in Beth’s new Toyota Tercel after they had gone shopping.

  “Hi, Tracy,” Beth perked before going in.

  Raheema stopped to chat with her neighbor.

  “How are you doing, Tracy?” she asked, as if she felt good about something. Raheema appearing to be excited was a rarity. She took her bags in and returned to sit on Tracy’s lower step. Tracy was speechless as she observed her, envying Raheema’s long brown ponytail. She just gotta show that hair off! Tracy thought.

  “So what’s been up, Tracy?” Raheema asked, sounding more hip than her usual Catholic-school self.

  “Nothin’. What about you?” Tracy answered, tight-lipped. She was still wondering what her neighbor was so happy about.

  “I’m going to a play tonight,” Raheema informed her without being asked.

  Tracy smirked. So that’s what it is. “A play? For what?” she queried, frowning as if it was corny.

  Raheema frowned back at her. She felt that Tracy was acting childish, afraid to try new things. “Because it’s cultural.”

  Tracy could imagine it, a bunch of white people talking at the top of their lungs about Shakespeare and music and art and about the torture of love. Yet Patti had taken her to a few African-American plays at the Freedom’s Theater when she was younger. Maybe a play wouldn’t be as bad as she thought.

  “Is it a black play?” she asked with new interest.

  Raheema shook her head. “No.”

  Tracy grunted, “Hmm.” So she’s going to see some white people like I thought, she reflected. “Jantel is having her party tonight,” she informed her neighbor. She knew Raheema wouldn’t care, but she decided to tell her about it anyway.

  “Skinny Jantel? I’m not going to her party.”

  “Jantel ain’t all that skinny no more,” Tracy commented, defending her friend. Over the years, Jantel had become her best friend. They had spent the most time together.

  “Well, you know how I feel about parties,” Raheema said nonchalantly. She was sick of telling Tracy.
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br />   Tracy shook her head. “I don’t know how you’re ever gonna grow up, if you all worried about boys using you and stuff,” she alluded. Raheema’s fear of boys was her real reason for her not liking parties. She probably can’t even dance, Tracy figured.

  “Whatever,” Raheema retorted.

  “Yeah, okay, girl, but you can’t run from boys your whole life, so you better get used to them now,” Tracy piped.

  Raheema stood up to go in. “Well, most likely, when I’m older, I doubt if it will be boys that I’m interested in,” she remarked.

  “Smart-ass,” Tracy mumbled as her neighbor excused herself.

  Tracy got ready for Jantel’s party after eating. She was certain Victor would be there.

  “What time can I expect you back in?” her mother asked her.

  Tracy was apprehensive. Patti had never asked her what time, she had always told her to be home before the midnight curfew. “Ah, I don’t know,” Tracy stammered, confused.

  “Well, since it’s Jantel, you can stay later if you like,” Patti told her.

  Tracy was visibly pleased. “For real, mom?”

  Her mother nodded to her. “Yeah, as long as you don’t leave the party and go off some-damn-where with some boy, getting into something you don’t have no business getting in,” she warned with a raised index finger.

  Tracy sucked her teeth. “I’m not gonna do that, mom.”

  “All right then, you can stay out later. And I want you to call me before you decide to head home.”

  “All right,” Tracy perked. Dag, I need to hang out with my mother more often. That movie put her in a good mood, she told herself. She sat around watching TV until it got late. The latecomers always attracted the crowds. The party started at nine, but it was after ten before Tracy finally decided to go.

  “What are you doing?” Patti asked her.

  Tracy grinned as she stood up from the living-room couch and walked over to turn the television off. “I’m leaving right now, mom. I just wanted to walk in a little late.”