Growing up, there would always be five of us. There was my brother, my two sisters, my Aunt Cookie, and me. Cookie was my mama’s youngest sibling, and for a while I used to think that my grandma ran late on her because of how close we were in age. However, as I got older, I realized that it was not my grandma who was running late, but my dear sweet mama who was running early, but that’s another story.
In addition to my Aunt Cookie, there was my Aunt Linda, and my Aunt Dee. Depending on the time of year, my Aunt Dee would become, the Lady of the Porch.
On warm evenings she would take a chair and sit out on my grandma’s porch. She’d have her tall can of Slitz Malt liquor beer, and her Kool Filter King cigarettes. Only then would she gather us kids up.
She would always begin with how our last encounter ended, about how unsuccessful we all were. “I hope y’all been practicing,” she’d sputter, “Cause after that last time…I-I just don’t know!” It was always something like, and it would always work because we would end up begging her to run it back.
Of course, she would refuse. She’d swear that she did not have time for such mediocre game players such as ourselves, which only increased our need for redemption. “Come on Aunt Dee,” we’d insist, “We bet you that we win today. Just try us and see!” To that she would just light a cigarette, or take a sip from her tall can. Either way, negotiations would go on for a minute. Once she was satisfied with our groveling, she would stand to her feet.
“Alright!” She’d begin, “All I know is, somebody better win today, or I ain’t ever playing this game with y’all again!” It would be on that note that we’d spin on our collective heels and follow the cement squares away from the porch until we reached the big sidewalk. Only then did we turn to face her!
We automatically lined up according to age, and we knew not to talk to each other, or her. This was serious business! The posture was the same amidst all of us; it was to be a forward lean accompanied only by a total focus because we knew what was at stake. We were no longer in the company of a loving aunt, for we now faced the Lady of the Porch!
“Red light…green light!” It was how she always began, real subtle-like, inviting. But we knew better. “Yellow light…red light,” she would say as she smiled and held her poise in place. It would be around this stage of the game that she’d ask something like, “Why y’all so serious?” But we knew not to respond. We would only shake our heads at her, which only widened her smile.
Halfway to the porch, her cadence would speed up, but it would not matter because we had practiced, and today she would know our worth! “Red light green light…yellow light green light…red light red light…red light green light red light”. And just like that, it was over.
Aunt Dee would light a cigarette and then reach down for her tall can. She’d take a swig of it, while moving it to the side so that we could get a good look at the smirk on her face. Only then would she look down on us for what seemed like eternity, then she’d shake her head at us and turn her can back up.
We all would sit sporadically sprawled out across the front of our grandma’s lawn, speechless, and we always stayed that way for a while. Not a sound, just silence as we’d watch her gather up all her things, and head back into the house. We could never explain what had happened because we all knew how hard we had practiced prior to that day.
We remained where we sat “for God knows how long.” The thought in everybody’s mind would be painfully obvious. The end would always be the same. We would never be able to defeat the Lady of the Porch.
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