Honeysuckle Playground
In the late sixties, a young African American male flees from Chicago on a bus to Atlanta in search of refuge. An unexpected stop in a small town yields a different type of sanctuary in a special young lady. Flash forward fifteen years later into the mid-eighties, young Geraldine finds herself in the difficult position of raising twins as well as raising herself because of a monumental shift in her life. She is forced to give up her hoop dreams, all while working and maintaining their secret. She can't risk being separated from the only family she has left. Without the safety of dependable parents, can she find the solace and fortitude to survive?
Geraldine always felt so safe when her feet hit the sidewalk on her street. It was almost as if home started right there for her. The park was absolutely the place to be on any given day. But it came alive on the weekends. Kids from neighboring streets and towns traveled there just to hang out and play ball. There was a grassy bank that sloped down toward the court, perfect for hundreds to sit and watch, waiting for a chance to prove themselves on the concrete. A high fence stood between the court and the sidewalk, blocking most wayward shots on that end. A second, shorter fence ran along the courtside between it and a playground. A few of the younger children played there, mostly siblings of teens who had to “watch” them or stay home. A graveyard loomed just across the road, but it didn’t seem to bother anyone. The two young ladies stood on the sidewalk and watched an ongoing game. A tall boy elevated at the free throw line and popped a jumper.
“Game! Who got next?”
“Greenwood boys want some.”
“Well, come get some then.” He walked over to the high fence, “What’s up, baby? You in?”
“You know it.”
The ladies walked around the edge of the fence and onto the court. She kissed him on the lips.
“What’s up, little Tadpole?” Geraldine stepped onto the court.
“Hey, Gee,” a young boy responded.
“Steph, is that you?” Ellis greeted her.
“You know it, Silky.”
“Come to watch the pride of Talmadge embarrass these Greenwood Avenue fools?”
“Shut your mouth, Ellis!”
“Come shut it, Lonnie! That’s what I thought.”
Stephanie loved the masculine energy in the air.
“Yo, Chico, you sitting the next one out.”
“Man, why I always gotta be the one to sit?”
“Cause you and Gee play the same position.”
“This street ball, not school ball.”
“That’s why I’m picking her.”
“Man, whatever.”
“I’ll buy you some candy.”
“Give me five dollars.”
“Five?”
“Yeah.”
He sighed and pulled a bill out of his sock, “Here’s six. Bring me some jelly beans, man.”
“Alright. Can I drive yo’ car?”
“Hell naw, you not driving my car. Country Dairy not even that far.”
“Whatever,” he took the money and cut through the cemetery.
Chico Lawrence is the best friend of Ellis and starting point guard for the Talmadge boy’s squad. His government name is Eddie, but very few people know that. He earned the nickname Chico by winning a five-dollar bet in the third grade, devouring fifteen chico sticks in less than two minutes. He promptly vomited all over the tether ball court and had to give the money back. He is an absolute candy fiend.
The Greenwood boys stepped onto the court. There had always been a friendly rivalry between them and the Mt. Sinai ballers, egged on by the fact that most of the Greenwood kids played at the county school, Talmadge’s rival. Ed, Lonnie, Ron, Mike Mike, and Terrell huddled to discuss who they would guard. Steph sat on the bank as Geraldine joined her boyfriend and his teammates. She noticed the girl who had played with the losing team sitting next to her. She wore no shoes. Back on the court, the mind games began. Bobby Payne winked at the Greenwood boys as he huddled with his own team. Bobby had one of the sweetest jump shots on the varsity team. He and his little sister lived down the road at the end of a dirt trail to a little house. Scott Parham grew up in the projects, but they considered that a part of the street. Montrez Washington lived toward the end of the street. He was the gazelle on the team, outrunning most guys from the paint even when they had a half court head start. His defense was stifling and frustrating. Ellis Stetson was the only one of them who didn’t live on that street. But he spent enough time there to be an honorary member. He was the starting small forward and wide receiver for the Talmadge basketball and football teams. He was also a state champion long jumper. Practically everyone called him Silky because of his smooth moves in every sport.
Geraldine walked over to one of the older young men, “Niko, can you keep an eye on my girl?”
“I got you, Gee,” he flipped a coin.
“You still got that silver dollar?”
“They gone bury me with it,” he laughed.
“Alright, boys…and girl,” Ellis bounced the ball. “First to fifteen wins. Gotta win by two. Cool?”
“Cool,” Ed nodded. “Shoot for ball?”
“Okay,” Ellis turned and shot from half court. “Easy. Which goal ya’ll want?”
“We want that one,” Ed pointed to the goal away from the street.
“Alright,” Ellis turned to his team. “You know who you got. I don’t want them to score. Eleven to nothing is skunk.” He tossed the ball to Geraldine, “It’s on you, baby.”
She loved this part: the anticipation. In the gym, she had to play it the coach’s way or Christine’s way. Run the point. Do this. Pass there. But out here, her true personality came out.
“You got me, Ed?”
“I got you.”
“I hope yo’ girl not here, ‘cause when I’m done with you, she won’t be no more.”
“Shut up and play, Gee.”