fam fiction
Afro
By Sundi Lofty
The neighbor came to visit with Aliyah, her six year-old daughter. She was a neighborly neighbor, the kind that dropped by unannounced with a cake or her kid. It was Thursday, Grey’s Anatomy night. Erin slouched on her chaise in front of the TV, watching McDreamy profess his love for Meredith.
She tried not to frown when she greeted them. They bounded in, bundled up in matching coats and scarves, stomping flakes of snow from their feet. The adults chatted during a commercial break. After a moment, when Erin realized her neighbors made no attempt to leave, she offered them both a seat.
The little girl wandered over to where Erin sat on her chaise. She ate from her bowl of popcorn, and then fished an un-popped kernel from the back of her teeth. Aliyah was the friendly type, like her mother. She was the sort of precocious child that would engage a complete stranger in conversation. She had done that with Erin, when she had first moved to Brooklyn, less than a year before.
“Erin is a boy’s name,” Aliyah had proclaimed. The child’s curiosity compelled Erin to explain the various spellings, to clarify that Erin with an E was an Irish name, that it was the Gaelic word for peace.
“Are you from Ireland?” the child had persisted.
By then, Erin had lost patience. “No,” she sighed. “I’m from Cleveland.”
It was especially warm in Erin’s apartment. Her landlord was old, crotchety, and he controlled the heat. In the twenty minutes since her neighbors had arrived, Aliyah hadn’t uttered a word. Erin looked at her now. She had removed her coat, but kept her hood drawn over her head. The string was tied tight under her chin so that the hood looked like a mask and the coat draped behind her like a cape.
Curious, Erin asked, “What’s the matter?”
Aliyah stared at her blankly. Her eyes drooped and perspiration had started to fall along the sides of her face.
Her mother answered for her. “She’s mad at me.” She cupped her hand over her mouth and whispered, though Erin was sure the child could hear. “She doesn’t like her hair. This morning I combed it in a different style and a classmate called her a name.”
“Is that all?” Erin turned to Aliyah. “I bet you it’s not that bad. May I see it?”
Aliyah shook her head no.
Erin had an idea. “What if I give you a present?” she coaxed. “Could I have a look then?”
The child smiled. Her eyes widened. Erin went to her bedroom closet and retrieved the coloring book and markers she had bought for her niece. Slowly, Aliyah untied her hood. She pulled it back a slither to expose her shiny, cropped afro.
Aliyah shrugged. “See,” she said, “It’s nappy,” and swept the hood back over her head.