Backyard parties are deathtraps

"What?"

"I'm getting dressed."

"Meet you on Natalie."

Almost ready to go. I've been waiting to wear this outfit. This party in this backyard was the most talked about event of the week. My outfit was set. My sneakers were clean. My crew was going and we were deep. I could hear Hip-Hop and reggae thumping from up the street. Guzzle 40's like water. And girls from different high schools always looked better than the ones I already knew. Mostly everyone knew my crew; hustlers, gang members, and gamblers. I was a hustler who enjoyed the company of both. Rival gangs might show up at this backyard party. That would be a problem because nobody likes getting jumped in a backyard.

But this backyard party felt different. There was food, girls, and the D.J. spun good music; reggae to rap. Biggie Smalls to Supercat. There were balloons next to the garbage cans. I even saw the car I wanted sitting on BBS rims. The sky had been clear. And no cops threatened to shut the party down. If our enemies were in this backyard I couldn't make them out in the crowd. We only had beepers back then, so everyone mingled, bumping and grinding as if the day would last forever. I personally had one of these fine women on my menu. I was brave once, and spotted a girl who smiled at me. She had one gold (tooth) front. We kicked it and had a lot in common. Her skin looked like soft, brown, leather in the sun.

Didn't mind me being aggressive when I grabbed her waist. Had to let her know she was the one, even if she wasn't. I told you I'm a hustler.

Someone from my crew passed me a blunt. And I shared it with my woman of the hour. The garbage cans were filled with Heinekens. I appreciated the person who went through all this trouble to accommodate strangers. I used my teeth to open 2. Something that I regret in my early 40's. We exchanged numbers then I returned to my crew. Everyone of them had a blunt in their mouth. We became a cloud. And the wrong static will electrocute you. It became hard to keep that negative energy going. This backyard party will be legendary. Hats off to the homeowners. I wish nothing but the best for your child; graduate and leave this place because there's nothing here but corners.

The speakers were huge. I loved music so catching me gravitating toward the bass was nothing unusual. I would run out of fingers for all the things I regret.

"Huh?"

"What did you say?"

Anyway the day couldn't be ruined even if it rained. There were trees in this backyard so there was plenty of shade. The chicken wings were gone. I only had 8. Our childhood was the best. You had to be somewhere to experience anywhere. There was no social media back then. It wasn't so easy to pretend who you were, or hide behind a keyboard and clown the gangsters that stood for something. There was a mutual respect, even for your enemy. And if you knew how to pick women no telling the sweet fruit that would fall if you shook the right tree. We were built different. Built for backyard parties like this one. The trees even swayed from the base that rattled my poor eardrums.

7:00 P.M. and all the troubles were behind me. Started dancing because I was light on my feet. I saw smiles from people that never smiled. All I needed was for someone to pull out some dice. That would be nice. I have a couple of hundreds for anyone who felt lucky. Everyone was having a good time. There were no Chucky's. I realized you don't have to sacrifice who you are to become someone you were never meant to be. All of us were chill. There were so many girls. I felt how special this backyard party was. No. It was more than that. It was the people. Positive people create positive energy. Need to take it easy on the drinking before I accidently drown the voice that's trying to self-preserve. My crew keep rolling up, and I'm at a loss of words. Lucky for me I found a lawn chair. Back of the party. By the fence. Next to the dancing tree. Everyone's around me. If this night ends with sex this backyard party would go down as one of the best.

I was dressed to impress. And there were no Mosquitos. My shirt drenched in sweat. How many people can this backyard hold? Come to think of it I've never noticed this house before. I walked its block before. Maybe I'll find the owner of this house and thank him for such a wonderful jam. Every song people threw up their hands. Singing word for word. The record didn't skip once. My eyes are lazy, red. Backyard makes me feel like there's something I'll miss if I close my eyes for just once. Those 8 wings were good. Wish I had some more. There were still beers in the garbage can. Figures the water would still be cold. Nothing could go wrong.

Silly me. Gunshots rang out!

Everyone scattered. I jumped multiple fences hoping the shooter wasn't aiming in my direction. Dam. This was a birthday party. Did the person get a chance to blow out the candles on their cake? Or were they too busy getting underneath the table. I made my way around the block, and caught up to some of my crew. We weren't scared because these backyard parties were something we were used too. But this one was different. It shouldn't have ended this way. Who did the shooting. Why? Word travels fast around these backyards. A man had been shot in his chest. He made it to the street before he collapsed from shock. His body bag looked like a lump of coal; unwarm. This was years ago, but I've never attended a backyard party since.