"Go Kenney! Go Kenney! Go Kenney!"
It seemed like every kid in the neighborhood was circled around us. I did a tick, put my hand on the ground and kicked my feet up in the air. Then I jumped up, spun around and Moonwalked closer to my sister Samantha before doing the wave out, and throwing it back to her. She slid out into the middle of the circle and did what seemed like the entire Michael Jackson Thriller video and then passed it back to me.
"Go Sammy! Go Kenney! Go Sammy! Go Kenney!"
I loved this crowd. I loved this neighborhood! I loved dancing. I loved to hear people call my name. And most of all I loved Sammy. She was my favorite sister. I loved her so much. Charity was my other sister. She was ok, but she was mean. Real mean. To me and everyone else. Sammy loved me and was good to me. She was good to everyone.
And everyone loved her.
Everyone but this one kid, who, apparently...didn't, because he started booing her like crazy when I passed the Cabbage Patch back to her. She was right in the middle of whopping it out when the kid walked right up on her and booed even louder.
The hell? Did this kid just boo in my sister's face?
I walked right up to the boy, who was around eleven, like Sammy, and kicked him in the shin with my seven year old size 2s.
"Don't talk to my sister like that ma' fucka'." Then I spat on his brand new Polo boots.
All the kids started laughing at him and started chanting "Go Kenney! Go Kenney! Go Kenney!" trying to get me to dance some more. The boy looked like he couldn't believe that this little kid had just done him right there in front of everyone, so he pulled all the way back and punched me dead in my eye.
All of a sudden, Charity came out of nowhere and started slapping him and trying to scratch his face off. Some girl, probably his sister, ran up and pushed Charity.
And then Sammy got in it.
She pushed the boy all the way down to the ground, and then kicked him hard in the nuts, so he would stay down. I kicked him again to make sure he stayed down. Then Sammy went to work on his sister. She pulled the girl off of Charity, pushed her to the ground, and just started swinging.
"Fight! Fight! Fight!"
When I tell you that girl was black and blue not even three minutes later...
None of the adults came to break it up. This was pretty much how every Saturday went, and the fight would rotate among the families. I guess this was our day. I know that boy was sorry he messed with us. Laying there on the ground, grabbing his nuts and crying, watching his sister get beat up. He should have already known better like everyone else did.
Sammy didn't play.
At all.
When Sammy was done with the girl, she jumped up off of her and pushed me and Charity toward the house.
"Y'all can't fight." That was the only thing she said.
That Christmas, all Sammy asked for was three pairs of boxing gloves and some head gear. After three months of training with her, we won the next fight without her.
And we won every fight after that.
Every single one.