“Yep, we went around the corner,” Charlotte answers proudly. “There’s some more houses over there and even a little playground!”
“Really?”
“Yep,” Bobby takes over, “it has swings and two slides, and even a giant tire swing.”
“I ain’t ever rode no tire swing!” I exclaim. “Can we go?”
Bobby and Charlotte look at each other, then Charlotte lowers her eyes. “Well, we’re not really allowed to play with you.”
“Play with me,” I repeat. “Why not?”
“Well, our mom said—”
“Sure, we can go!” Bobby interrupts, loud. “Mom is having her book club, remember?” Bobby says this part to Charlotte, and she nods. “She said we can play at the playground until time for dinner. Let’s go!”
“But, Bobby!” Charlotte yells, as Bobby picks up his skates.
“It’s fine.” Bobby gives Charlotte a look that stops her from talking. She gets in the wagon and once Bobby has his skates back on, he grabs the handle. “Ready?” This time, he’s talking to me.
I nod, even though I ain’t quite sure what’s going on with Charlotte. Or Bobby, for that matter. But I ain’t seen the playground yet and this might be my only chance to go. “Ready,” I say, and follow Bobby as he alternates between pulling Charlotte and trying not to fall.
We don’t talk on our way to the playground, which is fine with me cause it gives me time to look around. The farther we get from Granddaddy’s house, the more spread out everything is, and empty. In between houses there are whole fields filled with nothin’ but grass. In the city, the only time it gets real quiet is in the middle of the night. But here, it’s the middle of the day and the only thing I can hear is the squeak of the wagon wheel as Bobby pulls and pulls.
As we walk, I recite in my head the little melody bout stepping on a crack and breaking your momma’s back. Usually, I avoid all the cracks. But today, I step on every last one with a strange satisfaction. I count twenty-six cracks—and only wonder once if it might actually break Momma’s back—then we get to the playground. It ain’t too big, but it’s got swings and slides just like they promised, and even a giant seesaw right in the middle.
Charlotte jumps outta the wagon before Bobby even stops pulling. “KB, do you want to swing with me?” I bob my head up and down but she’s already halfway to the swings. I take off after her and make it to the swings just as she starts pumping her legs back and forth to get the swing going. Bobby takes off his skates and then his socks before running barefoot to the big slide.
“So, how come you live across the street from us now?” Charlotte asks, once we’re both swinging back and forth, high, on the same rhythm. Her hair today is in one big ponytail, gathered up at the top of her head and falling to her neck as she dips her head against the wind. Some of her curls refuse to stay within the tight grip of her pink ponytail holder, and those wispy strands of yellow hair fall into her pink-cheeked face.
“Well, I don’t live here,” I yell back. “We just here for the summer.” I pump my legs faster to keep up with Charlotte. Once we’re back on the same level, I add, “Momma gon’ come back for us soon.”
“Oh,” Charlotte says, then she is quiet for a while. She starts to swing slower, so I start to swing slower. “Then, where do you live?”
I pump my legs five times, back and forth, before I answer. “Well, we used to have this house on a dead-end street. I ain’t like it so much.”
“You don’t live there anymore?”
I shake my head. “After my daddy died, we moved.” I pump my legs faster again, to avoid looking at Charlotte.
“Oh,” she finally says.
“But it’s okay,” I jump in quickly, “cause we gon’ find a better house, just me and Momma and Nia.”
“You want to go on the slide?” Charlotte suddenly shrieks, like she ain’t hear my response.
“Okay,” I whisper, even though I ain’t done swinging. Ain’t done talking, either. But Charlotte starts to count—
“One, two, three!” She waits til she’s close to the top, then jumps off the swing, sailing in the air for three full seconds before landing in a heap on the grass. I drag my foot on the ground—once, twice, three times—til I slow down enough to take a tiny jump off the swing. Then I run after Charlotte, who is already halfway up the ladder to the slide.
“Wait for me!” I yell, but Charlotte is at the top now, standing next to Bobby and saying something I can’t hear. When I make it up to the top, Charlotte is blushing, and Bobby is staring straight at me.
“So, how do you like it here in Lansing?” Bobby asks, and now I know they was talking bout me.
“It’s all right,” I say, then try to change the subject. “You guys wanna go on the tire swing? I ain’t ever rode one!”
Charlotte peeks at Bobby, then shrugs.
“How come you say ‘ain’t’ all the time?” Bobby asks. Now I shrug. I keep my eyes focused on my shoes, so I ain’t gotta look at Bobby as he presses me for answers, or Charlotte as she pretends not to hear.
“Just asking,” Bobby says, like I was the one who offended him. Then he takes off down the slide yelling, “Last one down’s a rotten egg!” Charlotte rushes down after him, leaving me standing there, rotten. Bobby runs to the seesaw and Charlotte joins him, each taking turns up in the air and then down, down on the ground. I slide down the slide, slow, then take my time on my way over to the seesaw. I still wanna play with Bobby and Charlotte, but seems like maybe something changed, and I ain’t even sure what.
“You want a turn?” Charlotte asks, offering me her best smile. I smile back and nod. Guess ain’t nothin’ wrong after all.
I take my time climbing onto my side of the seesaw, cause I ain’t sure if Bobby gon’ take it easy or go too high. Back when I used to play on the seesaw at school, the boys would always trick the girls into riding with them, then kick off too hard and fast so that the girl spends the whole time yelling and falling. Bobby don’t seem like one of them kind of boys, but I can’t be sure.
“It’s okay,” Bobby says with a smile. Now I got two smiles, one from Charlotte and one from Bobby, so I feel better. I climb onto the seesaw and begin to ride back and forth, up and down, with Bobby leading the way.
“Do you like it here?” Bobby asks after a while.
“Mm-hmm,” I respond between jumps, “this is a fun playground.”
“No, I meant Lansing.” Bobby’s jumps are smaller now, slower. “You’re living here now, right?”
I look around for Charlotte to see if this is what she told Bobby, but she’s on the swings again and too far away to glare at. I turn back to Bobby and repeat what I said earlier. “We just here for the summer, til our momma comes back.”
“Oh.” Bobby is silent, like he’s tryna decide if my answer is right or wrong. Then his face perks up. “You want to go to the tire swing now?”
I smile, even though I don’t really feel like smiling.