When I Was the Greatest (14 page)

I texted my mom. GOING NEXT DOOR. BACK B4 CURFEW. Then I grabbed my hat and ran upstairs to knock on Ms. Brenda's door. She answered with her usual “We all family” face on, which is why everyone loved her. She never needs to watch both of us anymore, but sometimes she comes down to watch Jazz if I'm hanging out. Doris was okay with this mainly because she was always working late, and I would never get to hang out if I had to wait for her to come home first. She was cool like that sometimes. Plus she knew where I was, which was usually either over at Noodles and Needles's, or having a late training session at Malloy's. As long as I was in the house before midnight, my mother had no problems, and tonight I planned on being back by eleven. I mean, I really was going next door. We were just going to go somewhere else after that. So it was only a half lie.

Ms. Brenda looked like she was made of cookie dough. Her cheeks were puffy, and her lips were big and her chest was even bigger. Sometimes, on hot days, when she wore low-cut shirts, you could see the baby powder she put down there to stay cool, most of which was lost somewhere deep in her cleavage. Everything about her was soft. Her hair, her voice, everything. Especially her heart, when it came to us.

“Now, let me guess what you want, Allen,” she said, one hand on her chin, pretending like she was thinking. “You want me to come down there and mind the place until Doris gets home, because you want to run around all times of the night.”

I smiled. I was a little embarrassed because she thought I
was just joking, but this time I was really going to be breaking the rules.

“Just for an hour, then my mom'll be home.”

“Where you goin', next door?”

“Yes, ma'am,” I said nervously.

“Does your mama know?” she asked.

“Yes, ma'am, of course.” It almost hurt to say it.

Ms. Brenda looked at me skeptically, then nodded her head. “Okay, Allen. Lord knows we gotta look out for one another. Ain't nobody else gonna do it if we don't.” She grabbed her keys from the corner table by the door, and a book that looked like one of those romance novels they sell in the supermarkets. She also grabbed her cell phone and her cordless house phone, and gathered up the bottom of her long nightgown, which looked like nothing more than a big frilly silk sack with a hole cut for her head to go through.

“What y'all boys up to anyway?” she asked, her voice comforting like a cup of hot chocolate.

I didn't answer, just smiled awkwardly and headed down the steps in front of her. Ms. Brenda moved a lot slower than me. Or maybe I was just moving really fast because I had to get outside to meet the guys.

Once we got to my door, I unlocked it. Then my phone started buzzing. It was a text from my mom.

OK. BRENDA THERE?

“It's open, Ms. Brenda. I really appreciate this!” I said while trying not to run down the last flight of stairs. When I got to the front door, I double-checked my shoes. Still fresh.
Then I put my Yankees hat on, pulled it down low by the brim, and twisted it a little to the left. Sharp. Then I texted my mom back. YES.

As soon as the thick night air hit me, Noodles called out, “Yooooo!”

He was standing at the bottom of his stoop holding a piece of paper.

“Yoooooo!” I stepped lightly down the stoop. “Where's Needles?”

“He coming.” Noodles handed me the paper. “Check this out.”

It was a sketch. One of the best I had ever seen him do. It wasn't a superhero, though. It was a girl. A slammin' girl!

“Is this Tasha?”

“Yeah, what you think?” Noodles asked. “I did it straight from memory. Think I'm gonna give it to her tonight.”

He drew her face almost dead-on. It was pretty impressive. “Man, with skills like this, you might actually have a shot!”

We laughed, and as Noodles started folding the drawing up, the door of their building swung open. Somebody should've been playing some theme music. Some Jay-Z or one of them smooth seventies songs, because Needles looked like he needed some to go along with his outfit. I mean, everything fit him perfectly. The shirt, the pants, the shoes. Everything. Noodles looked pretty fresh too, but I could tell by the way he was walking that his shoes were too small. Still looked fly, though, but not as fly as Needles.

“Yoooo, Ali,” Needles said as he skipped down the steps
like he was walking on air. I could tell he felt good just by the way he spoke to me. It caught me off guard. Confidence was all over him. He had his yarn and his needles with him too, of course, but even that couldn't distract from his clothes. My man looked like a stack of money.

I gave Needles the container of Spaghetto.

“From Jazz. Pretty good, too.”

“Tell her thanks,” he said.

“Of course—”

“Man, forget about all that,” Noodles interrupted. “What I wanna know is, are we good? We in there?”

“You already know. We in there,” I said, feeling a rush all over me.

We headed down the block toward Tasha and MoMo's house. Needles had his yarn and needles tucked under his arm while he forked through the spaghetti noodles, slurping the red sauce. He kept trying to freestyle about how dope the party was going to be, but kept interrupting himself by shoveling food into his mouth. I prayed he wouldn't have an outburst and spray tomato sauce all over us, but I was happy he got to eat something. And that he was so pumped.

Tasha and MoMo lived just a block down, but it seemed like a whole other borough just because the blocks were so much different. On one side of Decatur and Lewis, where we live, there's, well, where we live. A bunch of people like us. Good folks, with a little edge to them, as my mother puts it. Some trash on the sidewalk, or sometimes a pissy mattress or a stained-up couch. Brown-bag beer bottles in the hands of old men and tatted-up
teenagers. Babies crying, an occasional fight, but also a lot of laughing. As a matter of fact, just a lot of noise in general.

But on the other side of Decatur and Lewis, peace and quiet. Trees and flowers line the block. Every brownstone has a light post outside, so it's always well lit at night. No trash. It was the “Cosby” side of the street. I figured it must've been the part of the neighborhood where Doris was always talking about all the white people were moving into. Gotta be.

We walked down the block toward Lewis Ave, none of us saying a word. I felt like we were just soaking it all up, and if Noodles and Needles felt anything like me, then the walk seemed more like we were gliding down the street. I just wished that it wasn't so dark and that there were more people outside to see us this fly. I couldn't wear the same outfit tomorrow. Shoot, I knew I couldn't wear that outfit ever again because I couldn't have Doris and Jazz asking me where I got it from. Doris would kill John, and Jazz would . . . well, Jazz would kill John too, just because he ain't give her no fancy clothes. So I was just enjoying the moment. We all were.

“You know where they live, right, Nood?” I asked as we crossed over Lewis Ave.

“Yeah, I know. Middle of the block. Right side,” he said. Then he breathed in, deep. “Is it just me or is the air fresher on this side of Lewis?”

We all busted out laughing. We all knew Noodles was joking, but, you know, it did seem like the air was different.

After another minute or so, Noodles stopped walking.

“We here.”

I looked around, confused. I couldn't hear anything, or see anything that looked anything like a party.

“Where?”

“Here.” Noodles pointed to the house. “This is it. Middle of the block. Right side.”

The house looked like every other house on the block. Nine windows, three floors, big wooden door, black iron gate. A typical Brooklyn brownstone.

“Man, ain't nobody out here. I don't even hear no music,” I said. He didn't know what he was talking about.

“Man, you think I don't know where Tasha live? I love that girl!” he said. “I know where my future wife stay at, man!”

Well, that was a good point, and it wouldn't surprise me if Noodles grew up and started stalking Tasha. He was just that kind of dude, plus he really, really liked her. He wouldn't have had to trip so hard if she just told him the truth, that she liked him too.

“This is it,” he repeated. But still we stood in front of the house for a minute, hoping to get some kind of sign. I just couldn't understand why we couldn't hear no music. On our block, whenever anybody had a party, you could hear the music so loud that it sounded like the DJ was in the bed with you. The bass made the walls vibrate. But here, at MoMo's house, one of the most popular parties in Brooklyn, silence.

A gypsy cab came cruising down the street suspiciously. Once it got close to where we were standing, it stopped. The back door opened, and out came a woman, all legs.

She walked past us, her hips swinging like nothing we
had ever seen before, like she had an invisible hula hoop around her waist. She walked right through the gate of the house Noodles said was Tasha and MoMo's. We watched her as she tapped on the door lightly. Three times. Tap, tap, tap. The door opened, and the music came bursting out like gunfire. And as soon as the door closed, it was gone. I almost fell over in shock! What the? The house was soundproofed?

“Told y'all,” Noodles said, shooting me a look.

“You were right, and so was she,” I said, biting my bottom lip. She was out of my league, but hey, it can't hurt to fantasize. I looked down at my shoes. Made it all the way down there with no scuffs. Still perfect. We all did a once-over of our clothes, making sure everything was okay and that we looked older than we really were. No sauce on Needles, thank God. I pulled my hat down, and Noodles brushed his hair with the palm of his hand. Needles blew into his palm and sniffed, then pulled a pack of gum out of his pocket and popped a piece in his mouth. Then he blew into his palm again.

Me and Noodles stood there staring at him. He was more prepared than we were! I didn't have gum, and I know Noodles didn't either.

Needles caught us staring. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You ready, Bruce Wayne?” Noodles teased.

I pulled out my phone and texted my father. I almost forgot. HERE.

Then the password, which I realized Tasha never told us, but we peeped anyway—three taps. Tap, tap, tap.

The door opened, and there was Tasha. She was looking amazing like always, but Noodles was looking at her like he didn't just see that girl with all them legs come in right before we did. The older girl. That boy was stuck on Tasha.

Tasha manned the entranceway, which led to the open area where all the people were. This was where she checked IDs, took money, and all that kind of stuff. I didn't see no security or bouncers or anything like that, but I guess if anyone tried anything crazy with Tasha, the little sister of MoMo, every person in this place would take turns handing out whoopings to him. It would be the worst day of that fool's life.

Tasha looked stunned to see us, and I knew why. She didn't think we would come. Not after she said we had to bring Needles. She didn't even give us the password, but we still showed up.

“Well, well, well,” Tasha started in her typical butthead way. “I can't believe y'all actually came!” The music was so loud, she was practically screaming so we could hear her.

“Yep!” I shouted. “And look who we brought with us!” I stepped to the side so she could see Needles, all dressed up, so she knew we kept our part of the deal and called her bluff.

Tasha's eyes bugged. “Whoa! Look at you, Needles! Looking like a million bucks!” She gave him a big hug. He stood stiff, uncomfortable. He said something back to Tasha, but we couldn't hear him. He was still holding the Spaghetto container, which had nothing left in it but streaks of red sauce and a plastic fork.

“What about me!” Noodles shouted, all jealous.

Tasha looked at him. Up. Then down. Then up again. She smiled and got real close to his ear to tell him something. I don't know what she said but it made him smile wide enough to split his face in two.

“Listen, y'all, please, please, please lay low. And stay far away from MoMo—he knows y'all, and he knows y'all don't belong in here. Don't blow this or he's gonna kill me. Got it?” Tasha was nervous.

“Got it!”

“Got it!”

“Yep.”

“Okay, cool,” Tasha said, nodding hard. Then she began shaking her head. “I don't even know why I'm letting y'all in here,” she grumbled.

“Oh, quick question, Tash,” I said, because I had to know. “Why can't you hear the music outside?”

Tasha laughed. “Because MoMo had the whole basement soundproofed so that our parents won't know nothing about this kind of stuff! They not here anyway, but you know, no complaints from the neighbors! This ain't y'all block! Our neighbors don't play around here! It's quiet, and they like it that way!” she said, shouting to be heard over the heavy bass.

I knew it! I was instantly impressed. I thought MoMo was the man before, but now I was realizing that he was a party genius.

“Aight, y'all, go ahead in,” Tasha hollered. She grabbed the container from Needles and set it to the side. Then she ushered us into a basement heaven.

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