Soul Sisters

    Lola was grossly out of breath.  It was the dead heat of summer and although she’d been running for miles on empty, she was too afraid to stop for water for fear they’d catch her and do God knows what.  Things had been going well up until now, so what could she have done to trigger such an attack?

    Desperate to find the answer she carefully dissected the video on auto play in her head.  Whenever Lola morphed into Lo-Lo, her alter ego, it was almost like morphing into some cool gangsta rap video, just like the ones she’d secretly watched when her parents weren’t home. 

    She’d gone to great lengths to blend, be one of them.  She cut her hair short and got a hair weave and a distinct African American hairstyle.  Sporting a super tan, she camouflaged her blue eyes with a pair of brown contact lenses and religiously studied BET’s hip, young black show 106 & Park.  And to help her swag, she had her tongue pierced to thicken her dialect. 

    Lo-Lo had agreed to meet up with her new homegirl Tree after school at River Roads Mall in Jennings, a popular teen hangout. A close neighbor of the crime ridden St. Louis city limits, the small county had too seen its share of troubles, including seeing its once popular mall turn into a ghost town. More than 80% of Jennings mall’s was vacant, making it an easy target for juvenile delinquency. 

    They’d initially met on Facebook and after exchanging tweets and a host of text messages filled with hype about living the 'hood' life, had agreed to meet face to face. 

    Lo-Lo spent much of the night planning what to wear before stashing the winning outfit in the back seat of her car.  The tan and hairdo was an easy sell, but there was no way she could sneak past her parents in full guise without alarm. 

    If you thought texting and driving was hard, try putting in contact lenses, a tongue ring and switching outfits.  After much practice, she’d gotten it down to a science without incident, thanks to the slow moving traffic. 

    School went as usual.  When she’d first morphed in public a few teachers and students made snide comments, but nothing significant and more importantly no one had ratted her out.  Kirkwood High School was known for its gothic culture so many assumed her role playing to be just as harmless and temporal.

    When the final bell rung her heart jumped a few beats as she nervously made her way towards the classroom’s door.

    “Hey, wait up Lola,” a peppy female voice called.  “Can you give me a ride home?  My dad dropped his car off for servicing this morning and borrowed mines for the day.” 

    Lola would have politely declined but since she was no where to be found, Lo-Lo answered for her.  “I think not, girlfriend!  Mama got plans and they surely don’t include you.”  Flipping her hair weave, she stomped out a path down the crowded hallway, and exited the building in search of her shiny red Mizati.

    She’d carefully considered everything or at least so she thought.  Using Mapquest, she planned to park her car a good distance away in a secure building, worrying it could blow her cover.  She’d also mastered the bus route and only had to wait 15 minutes before the Jennings Station bus arrived to take her to the mall. 

    Every time her nerves rattled she’d channel female rapper Eve, who was known for her confidence and brazen attitude.  When she heard the driver call out the stop, she just couldn’t believe that the beat-up building was even a real mall.  Besides being dingy and dirty on the outside, the inside was dark, dank and practically empty.  Her sixth sense told her to turn around, get back on a bus and back into her car. 

    Tree’s Facebook pictures painted her well.  A beautiful caramel brown, her height, weight and overall bone structure could easily have secured her a modeling contract.  But Lo-Lo knew better than to dole on another sistah.  Real divas don’t share the spotlight. 

    “Whaddup, girl,” Lo-Lo yelled.

    Tree’s eyes lit up, illuminating more warmth than expected.  “Hey, Miz Lo-Lo.  I see you made it.” 

      “Girl, I told you I would, didn’t I?” Lo-Lo bragged.  “So what movie are we seeing?”  Before Tree could answer she blurted out, “I hope it ain’t no stupid girlie flick.  I sure ain’t down with that.” 

      A group of teenaged boys began flirting with them.  One of them boldly placed his arm around Tree’s shoulders.  She shyly tried to pull away.  Lo-Lo, whose heavy tan, brown eyes and asymmetrical hair cut passed her for being a lighter-skinned black, went straight ghetto on the youngster.

    “Niggah, what’s yo’ problem?  She put her hands on her hip and gave a solid neck roll.  “Do she look like yo’ sister? You lucky her boo didn’t see you,” she said looking around, “or you might be drawing back just a stub.” 

    The cocky teenager quickly withdrew his arm, causing his friends to jokingly taunt him.  “Man, it ain’t nothing,” he ragged, grabbing his crotch.  “Shoo, my gal make ya’ll look like chicken heads.”  The boisterous laughter echoed off the walls of the near empty mall, unnerving Lo-Lo who suddenly realized she was way out of her league.  She could tell Tree was just as anxious for the meddlesome teens to go away. 

    Thinking quick on her feet she saw two girls about to enter the movie theater and called out to them.  “Shanika!” she yelled with conviction, “Girl, is that you?”

    She got within a few feet.  “I thought I saw yo’ brother, with his fine self.  When did he get out?”  The thought of an uncaged prisoner being loosed into the ghastly mall didn’t sit well with the young boys and Lo-Lo was glad to see they’d continue walking past them.
 
    Sporting a short, funky hairdo feathered in multi-colors, the heavier, darker skinned teen spoke first.  “You talkin’ to me?  My name ain’t no Sha-ni-ka!” she fussed jerking her neck full circle.  “Not all us dark sistahs names all end in ‘ika.’

    Lo-Lo had defused one bomb only to set off another.  “Oh, girl, my bad.  You look like somebody I know.” 

    The other teen, a petite but manly looking lighter-skinned girl, heavily rolled her eyes.  “Unh-hunh, I bet.  She folded her arms across her chest.  “Wait, don’t I know you?” she mumbled before scanning Lo-Lo head to toe. 

    “No problem,” retorted the heavy set girl who as well was checking out the strangers.  “Ya’ll from ‘round here?” 

    Tree had inadvertently made eye contact and knew better than not to answer.  “I am, but she’s visiting me,” she jerked her head in Lo-Lo’s direction. 

    “Oh, is that right," the heavy set girl muttered while closely examining Lo-Lo's Chanel shoulder bag.  “Is that a knock-off, ‘cause if it is it sho’ looks damn good.  Where’d you get it?” 

    Lo-Lo didn’t see it coming.  All the black girls she’d seen in the music videos already had enough bling to light up Sears Towers  “Unh-unh, baby girl, this here the real deal.  Shoo, me and my girl ganked this hottie from Mid-Rivers.”  Tree’s eyebrows raised.

    A troublesome smirk illuminated the petite girl’s face who gently nudged her plump friend.  It was quick but Lo-Lo caught it.

    “Let me see that,” the heavy set girl reached for the bag.  “I’ll tell you if it’s real or not.” 

    Lo-Lo reflectively pulled back, tightening her hold.  “Believe me, it’s real,” she snapped.  “I don’t waste time rocking fake shit.”  She wished she’d never come but knew it was too late to walk away. 

    Tree attempted a diversion.  “Hey ya’ll, what time is it?  I bet our movie is about to start.” 

    The stench of fear heightened the urbanites’ animalistic senses and they quickly moved in for the kill.  “So what movie ya’ll come to see?”  Both girls inched closer, invading Lo-Lo’s personal space and pushing her heartbeat into overdrive. 

The bold move threw her off her game.  It didn’t look good and she knew there was only one choice and that was to run for her life.  Although she’d worn a form fitting spandex mini-dress, she’d perfectly complimented it with cute baby-doll ruffled socks and a stylish pair of Air Jordan.

    When Lo-Lo spun around and took off running, Tree too sprung into survival mode.  Without thinking, she dashed inside the movie theater, hoping she’d get lost in its crowded sea of darkness. Lucky for her, it turned out only Lo-Lo and her designer shoulder bag was the target.

    At first they were right on Lo-Lo’s heels but as she kept momentum the distance between them grew wider, but this didn’t comfort her enough to slow.  Thankfully the bus route hadn’t involved any turns and was just one long stretch.  Angry she’d foolishly put her life in danger, she found some pleasure in being fit.  And just as she was about to give in to the sheer exhaustion, a newer modeled BMW pulled alongside her and a familiar voice commanded she get in. 

    Tree sat behind the wheel.  Lo-Lo didn’t have time to process it all and quickly hopped in.  Could it be that Tree was balling with some high roller?

    “Damn girl,” she gasped in between deep breaths, “That shit was jacked up, wasn’t it.” Tree kept focus, not wanting to make any forced stops.  She’d heard that most deadly drive-bys occurred at either stop signs or stop lights and she was determined not to die in the ‘hood.’ 

    Lo-Lo glanced over at her petrified driver whose hands were tightly clutching the wheel and burst into laughter, irritating already frayed nerves.

    “What’s so daggone funny?  Do you realize what just happened?  Girl, we could have been robbed and who knows what else!  Clearly agitated she continued, “I swear, I’m never, ever leaving Chesterfield again!”  Just like Kirkwood, Chesterfield was far from being 'the hood' and actually was one of the more affluent surburbs of St. Louis' West County. 

    “Chesterfield?  I thought you said you lived around here?”  Lo-Lo was beginning to think the BMW was not ill gotten, that Tree, although black, was perhaps just as sheltered as she was.

    “Well, I don’t!” Tree snapped.  “Girl, my dad is a doctor and my mother a practitioner.  If they knew where I was, they’d kill me their damn selves.  They’ve worked too hard to give me a better life and what do I do?  Get caught up in some ghetto madness!”  She went on.  “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, this ain’t no gangsta rap video.  Girl, this drama is for real!”

    Lo-Lo grew quiet as if she too was doing some soul searching.  She wished she could lay her cards on the table. 

    “You’re right, Tree, this shit is too real.”  Then it hit her like a brick.  “Damn!”

    “What!?” Panicking, Tree accidentally gave the gas too much pressure, so afraid the girls from the mall had somehow found them.

    “I thought the bony-ass one looked familiar.” Lo-Lo revealed.  “Girl, that ho’ made me, unh-huh. She was the salesgirl who rung me up so that heifer knew damn well I was lying about boosting my bag.”  The game was getting harder and too dangerous and Lo-Lo wasn’t sure if it was worth playing anymore.’

    “Tree, girl, I really am sorry.” 

    Tree felt her pain.  “Lo-Lo, girl, don’t sweat it.  Oh, and the name is TraNiece not Tree,” she confessed.

    Lo-Lo saw an opening and looking away from TraNiece removed her tongue ring and flicked out her lenses.  She then turned to face her again.  “Nice to meet you, TraNiece,” she said extending her hand, “My name is Lola.”

    Realizing her mouth was gaped wide open, TraNiece closed it and refocused her attention on the road.  For both girls, the next two minutes of silence seemed a lifetime.  It was TraNiece who finally broke the ice. 

    “So tell me … who hooked up your weave, ‘cause girl, that shit is tight!”  Lola was caught off guard and began choking with laughter.

    “Lola,” TraNiece huffed, “girl just please tell me you didn't catch the bus over here and that you were smart enough to park your ride somewhere safe.  Right?”

    Lola giggled.  She’d found a kindred spirit, another lost soul in need of sisterhood.  She pointed the way to the parking garage.