Double Dutch: The Sanctuary of My Yesterday

Double Dutch is a game requiring two long jump ropes turned in opposite directions by two individuals while one or more players are jumping simultaneously. Oftentimes there is a sing-song chant that the players repeat to keep track of the jumping duration before a jumper stops jumping.

One up, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine…

Summertime was spent around the corner at Aunt Trina and Uncle Troy’s house, my cousin Zanna’s parents. We stayed outside all day. The hot sun stung our bare arms and legs as we played, ran around and rode our bikes up and down the hill. I’d ride around the block cause I hated riding up the hill. We weren’t allowed to go beyond the corners so we rode like speed demons three quarters around the block then backtracked to the starting corner and headed back up our street. Movement was key so as not to feel the constant rays from the penetrating sun. When the heat became unbearable, sweat dripped down our faces, droplets landing on the corner of our lips easing it’s way into our mouths. The salty taste mixed with residual grit from the dirt that clung to our skin.

Red light, green light, one, two, three. I turned around and opened my eyes to see Tamika stop short. “You’re out”, I bellowed. “I saw you..” Just then Aunt Trina called us in for lunch. I mean mugged Tamika as I walked towards the house. I knew she was about to challenge my call. Most of us couldn’t stand her. She walked around trying to boss people. One time she made Zanna cry. Zanna didn’t like to fight. She could, but she didn’t like conflict. Plus Aunt Trina was on the prissy side and frowned on “young ladies acting like hooligans.” Me, on the other hand, was always ready to go at it. I never started, but I was quite proficient at finishing. When I saw her all up in Zanna’s face, Zanna tried to walk away and Tamika kept cutting her off to keep her cornered. She was so busy jumping bad that I ran up on her and mushed her so hard she tipped to the side and almost fell. She turned around and realized that it was me and straightened up. To save face, she yelled “forget ya’ll” and walked toward her stoop. We went inside. Aunt Trina’s cheese sandwich and red kool-aid was the fuel I needed to play hard for the 2nd half of the afternoon until the hamburger truck rolled around.  

The double dutch block tournament was approaching and Tamika wanted Zanna or me to team with her. That’s how I knew she was stupid. Mean. Messy and stupid. She knew we were tight and actually thought we were going to flat leave the others to join her non double dutch jumping two-faced behind. She started a rumor about Denise and Bruce messing around in the hallway of Bruce’s house while his parents were at work. I suspect it was true because Denise was a fast ass (that’s what some of the mom’s in the neighborhood called her) and unlike me and Zanna, Denise loved to fight. She was the reason why we couldn’t go around the corner. Drama followed her. I liked her and always had her back. The last time we were around the corner she got into a fight with Melanie, a girl from school and when I was trying to break it up Melanie’s friend thought I was trying to jump in and started fighting me. There we were scrapping in the street like “hooligans' '. If the story Tamika started about Denise was untrue, Denise woulda kicked her butt. That’s why I think the rumor was true. Anyway, Denise left the team and the others followed suit.

Zanna and I begged my father to take us to Starrett City and Prospect Park a few times during the weekdays and on the weekends to practice. We came in first place for the past two years. Last year we discovered that Tamika had been spying on us and went back and taught her teammates most of our moves. This was not known until they were doing our routine during the tournament. Luckily, Zanna and I were so in sync we were able to piece something together and the Dynamic Rhythm Jumpers took the first place trophy home once again. We weren’t taking any chances this year and planned to alternate practice between the two parks.

Last night I dreamt about Tamika and her mom. They were sitting on their stoop and Tamika’s mom was doing her hair. Her mom was bougie as all get out and would never do her hair outside like that. During the dream I remember wondering why I was dreaming about them. I shrugged it off thinking that Tamika was on my mind lately with trying to keep her from seeing our moves. We were three weeks away from the tournament. We practiced so much we had to purchase new electric wire for rope. Our routine was getting better with each practice. 

Starrett City was our practice spot today. My heart and body were not present. I wasn’t tired. I just didn’t want to be here. We left earlier than usual. On the way home Zanna asked me what was wrong when she saw me staring out the window crying. I couldn’t tell her. “I didn’t know what I was crying about.”

When we returned home I spotted Tracy, Zanna’s older sister, sitting with Tamika on her front steps. Tracy was nine years older than us. This visual did not sit well with me. While Daddy was parking I was able to get a closer view of the two of them. Tamika was crying and Tracy had her arm around her shoulder. Daddy got out of the car and opened the door on my side. I didn’t want to get out. Daddy sensing my distress gently led me out of the car. You okay, Babygirl? The tears running down my face was my response. I turned around towards Zanna’s house and saw our Mom’s coming out of the front door. They stood by the gate waiting for us to come closer. Aunt Trina was focused on Tracy and Tamika. Puzzled and looking at me while talking to my father, my mother asked why we were back so early. Babygirl’s not feeling well. My mom lifted my chin up with her hand. Searching my face, she asked, “what's wrong? I just leaned into her for a hug. She led me inside and dad followed. Once inside she sat me down at the kitchen table and knelt in front of her. Again, she lifted my chin so that our eyes would meet. '' Cree”, she started, then paused, looked down, took a deep breath and looked back up making eye contact, “Cree, I have some sad news.” She searched my eyes for understanding, I started crying again, she continued, “Tamika’s mother died this morning.” I sat for a moment, then I stood up and headed outside, across the street. I stood in front of Tamika and Tracy. Tracy was slowly rocking Tamika from side to side. This was a part of Tracy that I didn’t see too often. At 20 she thought she was full grown and her shit didn’t stink. My brother, Isaac, who was 16, was way nicer. Which was weird cause on TV brothers are usually jerks. Tamika looked up; with puffy and blotchy eyes. She had a snot bubble that sucked in and blew out each time she inhaled and exhaled. She was doing that double clutch crying that kids do after a whooping and they’re trying to stop. I didn’t know what to say so I just sat next to her, real close, like when there is a small space between you and the next person on the train and some wide-hipped woman is determined to create a seat for herself. Tamika looked over at me and leaned her head on my shoulder. I reached and placed my hand on hers.

 Two up, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine...

Tyson, my boyfriend, and I were attending his family reunion in Albany, NY. I still needed to pack my bag. I was quickly regretting that I agreed to attend with him. We met in my junior year in college and were a few months past our 2 year mark. Our relationship was heading into rocky terrain and I wasn’t feeling the process. I heard the phone ring as I opened the bathroom door. I left it open to release the steam and allow the mirrors to defog. Mom called me to the phone. Zanna was on the other line. She was reaching out to see if I wanted to come by for the block party. Block parties were the highlight of summers. Food, music, family and friends. It was like a huge family reunion that lasted until the wee hours of the morning. It has been some time since I’ve been to one. She, now, had 2 handsome boys and I hadn’t seen her in awhile. Yeah, I’ll stop by. I won’t be able to stay long, but I will definitely come through.  

Spontaneous plans are the best. Hanging out with Zanna was always a blast. We’ve been inseparable since we were toddlers until around 8th or 9th grade. We didn’t hang out as often but we picked up where we left off as if time never passed. Loud guffawing was always on the agenda, no matter the environment. On more than one occasion reports of us cutting up made it back home to our parents before we did. “How many times do I have to tell you two to stop being so common in public?  

Zanna was trying to talk me into hanging out with her and Tamika. They were going into the city on one of those party boat rides. She had been arguing with her boyfriend and was looking to release the negative energy she was feeling. I declined, reluctantly. I explained my prior commitment with Tyson but vowed to come by more often.

Last night I had been crying so hard in my sleep that I woke up in a sweat. I dreamt of a coffin floating in front of me. I looked over at Tyson, thinking I had woken him. He was soundly asleep. Undisturbed. My dream had thoroughly unhinged me. I closed my eyes and moved closer to Tyson.

The next morning I phoned home. No one answered, which further freaked me out. It was my Mom who answered when I finally got through to someone around 5pm.

“Hello.” I was so relieved to hear my mom’s sweet voice. 

“Hey mommy. Where were you?” I questioned, attempting to hide the apprehension in my voice. 

“Your dad and I were at Aunt Trina’s house.” 

“Oh,” I was listening for clues. Was everything and everyone okay? As we talked I began to sense something off in her tone. “Where’s Daddy?” It was common knowledge that my father was the weak link. He couldn’t keep a secret. We often teased, telling him “he couldn’t hold water.” My mom was keeping something from me. If I spoke to my dad I’d be able to hear in his voice if something was going on.  

“He’s in the shower”.  

“Mmm, Okay.”

“What time do you get home tomorrow?”

“I should be in around 6. Love you.”  

“Love you too.” "We'll see you tomorrow."

Tyson dropped me off at the train station. I wasn’t feeling him or this union. I didn’t want to do us anymore. I needed to think before I made any hasty decisions. The train pulled up. I didn’t return the goodbye kiss he gave me. I found a forward seat on the train and didn’t look back. With tears rolling down my cheeks I began to cry. I was at peace with the decision to break up with him. For the first time since my dream I actually felt at peace.

When I got off the #2 train and walked the two flights up into daylight my anxiety started to rise. This commute was so much a part of my system that I didn’t even remember walking through the metro north terminal and getting on the subway train. I walked the half block to our house. As I got closer to the house I spied Isaac’s car. I was excited for the visit, until I walked in the house. There was a heavy stillness in the air. I looked at everyone, Mom, Dad, Isaac. “What’s wrong?” That feeling returned. Mom reached out for me.

Deja Vu. My legs were threatening to turn to jelly at the memory of the day Tamika’s mother died. Once again, I was eleven years old.

I took her hand and followed her to the couch. I have some bad news. This time it was me searching her eyes for an indication to what she had to tell me.

“Zanna passed away.” she stated. I stared in disbelief. Was I hearing her correctly? “What, when, how did she die?” A barrage of questions spilled out as I attempted to process her words. My thoughts immediately went to the possibility of her dying at the hands of her boyfriend. I had never met him but I didn’t get good vibes about him based on the stories I’ve heard. 

“What happened?“ I asked again.

“Friday night. She was hit by a car.” Isaac answered.

I stood up. Anxiety and the pain in my heart were tying my stomach in knots. I needed to sit down and scream my pain out of existence. The weight building up at the center of my core like a porterhouse steak eaten too quickly, sitting there waiting, wanting to be released. I felt like I was going to... The contents of my IHOP breakfast splayed out like water gushing from an open hydrant. My father caught the brunt of it. All over his bare legs and new Reeboks. “Aww, Shit baby girl.” For a split second I saw my father’s twisted face. Realizing his reaction, his expression was overtaken by sadness. He pulled me into a protective embrace, holding me as I released loud gut wrenching cries. My mother returned with a cold washcloth for my face and a pile of old towels to clean up my disgorgement. She handed the washcloth to my dad and knelt down to proceed cleaning up. My father pulled away from me just enough to wipe my face and kiss my forehead. “Let it out baby girl. We got you. 

As if I wasn’t already in a bad place seeing Zanna’s young boys threw me over the edge. The oldest, Davis, now 8 and Travis, 4 were decked out in their slightly oversized suits looking more like midgets than little boys. It was painful to witness their solemn demeanor. I was confident that Davis understood all that was transpiring. Travis on the other hand was mimicking what he was seeing and hearing.

“Our mommy died. She’s in heaven.” Travis revealed.

I sent up a mental prayer asking God to help me maintain the little bit of composure I was trying to exhibit.  

“She knows,” Davis spoke. “You don’t have to keep telling everybody.”

Isaac walked up and put his hand on Travis’ head who was about to cry. “Hey, little man. Let’s go get something to eat. He led him away to the kitchen.

“How are you feeling, Davis? I put my arm around his shoulder. I wanted to offer him comfort before I fell apart at the seams. 

“I’m okay.” I sensed that he thought that’s what he was supposed to say. I didn’t know what to say so I simply took his hand and gave him a kiss. 

For a long time I was plagued by what if’s. What if I cancelled my plans and hung out with her longer? What if I had done a better job at keeping in touch? Tamika revealed that she believed Zanna ran out in front of the car on purpose. Was it because of her relationship with her boyfriend or did her unhappiness run deeper? I’d start crying at the most awkward moments. The worst being when my once favorite song, O-o-h Child by the Five Stairsteps came on. With no warning I would just start crying and more often than not the rest of my day was shot. I dreamt about Zanna a few times. Each dream felt like a reprieve. I only remember details of the last dream. I “woke” up with Zanna standing by my bed. She was with a man and smiling. She told me she was happy and wouldn’t be visiting me anymore. She came because she didn’t want me to continue to grieve.

Three up, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine...

Getting over Zanna’s death was not going to be as easy as her just not wanting me to grieve anymore. Knowing that she was happy, at peace, did allow me to stop second guessing my decision not to stay and hang out with them that night. I channeled my energy into the memories we created growing up. When I think of her I will think of the third and final double dutch tournament we won together. The jolly ranchers, red hots, lemon heads, Bon-ton barbeque chips and all the other junk food we shared. How we planned our purchases to make sure our choices weren’t duplicated so we could maximize our snack food smorgasbord.  

We didn’t travel to exotic places or spend our summers at a camp. We spent them together on Riverdale Ave., that one block, our personal playground. Thinking of those times produced a smile. When I felt that smile make its way to my heart I knew it would get easier. It was already looking brighter.