roberto & nia

06. nia+robert

it's a three-minute walk from his house to the neighborhood mailboxes, past the drooping evergreens and stray cats and squirrels leaping into trees, the sidewalks that end before you reach, a hard stop on your right foot–but robert all but glides towards it. he pulls white wings out from the blades of his back and flies to it.

his very own catherine dunham–who was not mad, who loved him, who got him a present, who was waiting for him–it all felt too candy sweet, too good to be his truth. but it was–she hadn't been mad, she had said she loved him, she did get him a present. once he reaches number forty-three, he twists the silver key in the hole and a large container is spit out by the mouth of mailbox, wrapped in midnight blue paper, a rose stuck on the top. she is waiting for him-the dream is all his to have. happiness fills him up like gasoline.

"i am the luckiest boy alive," he announces to the mailbox, to the houses and the air and heaven. "the luckiest boy in the whole universe."

"good to see you too, robert," the universe says back. except, the universe is five-foot-five, with a familiar halo of hair surrounding her face, the sun glinting on her skin. she squints into the light, and there are no stars that he can see on her skin.

"nia," robert says immediately. like turning on the lights in his mind. her name comes back easy to the tongue.

"luckiest man alive," she replies, smiling at him. "you know, it's actually bad luck to see the musician before the performance. ruins the magic."

robert looks down at the gift, then up at nia, then at the black, near human-sized case in her right hand.

"performance. musician. number fifty-two. your concert," he breathes out, the words coming together in short bursts.

"five o'clock," she adds, nodding. "you're barely early. better get there before the seats fill up." her laugh bubbles up in the air smooth as clouds. it rings in his head for a few seconds.

and so does catherine. i'll be waiting for you. waiting and waiting and waiting.

"um, nia? i gotta tell you something," he begins. nia turns to look at him. for a moment, he forgets what he is saying.

"yes?" she asks. "don't tell me you're cancelling."

and so he doesn't.

"nope. um, hey, why don't you walk me to your teacher's house? don't wanna be late for the big performance."

nia grins and rolls her eyes, grabbing his wrist. and just like that: an electric bolt in his system. he becomes a star beside her.

"of course. come on."

• • •

this chapter is not at all well written but Alas, These Things Do Happen. (im being Melodramatic as i hope u all can See)

HAPPY MARTIN LUTHER KING JR. DAY FRIENDS! let us all commemorate the amazing and fundamental strides dr. king made in the civil rights movement. watch the "i have a dream" speech. read about his life, all the good, all the courage, all the problematic things he did. learn about this leader. black history is american history.

also please take the time today to research bayard rustin-the gay black man who single-handedly organized the entire march on washington without any of the tools we have for mass organization today-the black man who offered to step down from his post as a crucial civil rights strategist because his sexuality was seen as a "blemish" on the movement, whose great historical impact is mostly hidden on account of his sexuality. please learn about and appreciate bayard rustin today.