Nine Bar Blues by Thomas Sheree Renée

Author:Thomas, Sheree Renée [Thomas, Sheree Renée]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction.Fantasy, Fiction.Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fiction.Horror, Anthologies
ISBN: 9780997457896
Google: lr8-xwEACAAJ
Amazon: 0997457899
Goodreads: 53014954
Publisher: Third Man Books
Published: 2020-04-21T04:00:00+00:00

Me and my girls, we used to turn up, shut it down right there in Goat Park. While the boys were out on the asphalt, sweating and cursing, checking bricks and trying to dunk in their throwback Jordans, we would be over by the raggedy ass slide, far away from crying babies and fussing nannies cussing in their mother tongues, but close enough for the fine boys to see us, making moves, moving in time, and imitating our favorites. Chanel could fract better than anybody. Her arms and hands flying in precise, quick fast patterns. Her sharp elbows were arrows that pierced the air, even her long spiraling locs swung in time to her rhythm. Bijou’s neck and thighs were like that old school silly putty. She could stretch and slide, whine and grind like she was all water, not bones and flesh. Me, I was the choreographer, always been, always will be. Sanaa, Queen of the Stans. I could do all my girls ‘moves and then some I never shared. Even back then, I dreamed new steps and stans in my sleep, woke up counting beats and wrecking rhythms, even when I brushed my teeth.

To dance was to live.

Other younger girls and little children sometimes watched us from the sidelines, tried to mimic our moves. None of them had enough booty yet, the extra bounce for the ounce that added that special polyrhythm. But I wasn’t stingy. I taught anyone who wanted to learn and have fun, and some of them were really very good.

Back then, I gave my moves away for free.

“Might as well,” Bijou used to say. “They gon’ steal it anyway.”

Chanel disapproved, flinging her locs back to underline the point. “You can’t give away everything, Sanaa. Some stuff you got to keep for yourself.”

It was when they asked us to perform at the Rucker Park Streetball Fest, an annual fundraiser against police brutality, for the families of the latest victims, that it all changed. That’s when Isis first saw me. We couldn’t believe that Ice came to Manigault. Her appearance was completely unannounced, otherwise she and the Goat would have been swamped by fans and paparazzi. She was promoting her upcoming release and would be the celebrity judge for the tournament. Everyone and their mama, folk who know damn well they couldn’t ball or stan, was trying to get up in that competition. It was chaos. Harlem was out of control. There was no way they were going to be able to hold the people back, but we weren’t ordinary people. I had been waiting for a chance like this since beyond forever, and now here it was. I had no idea just how jacked up it would be.

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