Homecoming Weekend (3 page)

She had not come back before now because she wasn't ready. She did not get the job in public relations with the big Chicago firm she wanted, and it made her feel like a failure. She was home-coming queen as a sophomore, president of her sorority as a junior and vice president of the Student Government Association as a senior.

Tranise was looked at as a shining star that would represent Norfolk State so well. It turned out that she had to become a middle school teacher just to have a job after graduation.

Because she had such specific dreams and ambitions, she did not realize how noble and rewarding being a teacher was, especially in an inner city area in Atlanta. It took her a while to get to that point, but in her third year, she got the perspective-altering
sensation from a thirteen-year-old boy who had a troubled house-hold. He was talkative and ambitious, despite his family struggles, and Tranise identified something good in the kid.

“Miss Knight,” the boy said one Monday morning, smiling, “you're my favorite teacher of all time.”

“Aww, that's so sweet,” she said. “Why do you say that?”

“All the things you told me about being responsible and watching who I hang out with was right,” he said. “One of my friends went to jail Saturday: Tommy. You told me to stay away from him. He asked me to go to the mall with him and get some money stealing ladies' purses. I thought about what you said and I told him I couldn't come with him. If you didn't always tell me to make good choices and tell me about what happened to people who made bad choices, I probably would have been with him and been in trouble, too.”

She knew then her career path, while not what she expected it to be, was far more rewarding than any PR work she could do for some big company. She impacted young lives. The job took on a new, more powerful meaning.

Because she was always good with money, which really meant she was cheap, and because she didn't have any kids and no student loans to repay, she was able to live relatively comfortably on a teacher's salary in Atlanta.

So, finally understanding that she was not a failure, but, indeed, a sort of public servant, Tranise believed it was okay to go back to homecoming and see many of her friends she missed after so many years. She found peace with who she was and her mother told her that was far more than what most people could say.

Standing on The Yard again, in front of the Twin Tower dormitories, brought Tranise back to some of the most fun times she'd ever had. She could not wait to see many people she had forgotten
over the years that would be there for the weekend. None of them had heard from her in almost five years.

She was anxious to see the step show in the gym and to see the Mighty Spartan Legion, the nationally underrated NSU band. And she wanted to see her Chicago homegirl Trina and old roommates, Tammy and Mary.

But she also wanted to see Brandon Barksdale, the school's former basketball star she'd had a serious crush on in school. With all she'd accomplished while at Norfolk State, she did not think she was worthy of Brandon to even know who she was. He was that impressive and she was that insecure, despite her accolades.

He was tall, but not gawky-tall: six-foot-three and about two hundred-fifteen pounds. His body was lean and defined and his deep brown complexion matched Tranise's. He was an honor student and fun-loving guy, friendly and likeable, definitely the big man on campus, in stature, not size.

And yet he hardly knew Tranise existed. In deciding to return to homecoming, she decided that her time was now. She was at the best point of her young life. Her slim little figure had filled out over the years. So instead of the slender size four, from back in the day, she was a solid eight. Her breasts had blown up some-how from a 34B to a 36C. Hips sprung below her waist and her butt protruded as if injected with air. Her hair—
her
hair, not a weave—flowed like water.

In the vernacular of the streets . . . homegirl was a dimepiece.

She reasoned it was probably all that Southern food she ate in Georgia—especially the grits, gravy and peach cobbler—that added to her size. But the extra pounds, even she allowed, looked good on her. She was so comfortable with it, that she wore clothes that accentuated her curves—not too-short skirts and cleavage-busting blouses, but tasteful attire that was fitting, sexy and classy.

And she even dabbed on a little makeup to bring out her features, something she rarely did as a college student.

So, Tranise Knight was very much a different person than she was when she graduated from Norfolk State—different in comfort level with herself and different in how she looked. Some people were going to be shocked by this Tranise, especially Brandon, she hoped.

She knew friends would be there because they had confirmed on an NSU Homecoming Facebook event page. A week before, she had signed on to the social media site. When she checked into the Marriott at Waterside, she saw many alums, old and young, but no one she recognized. But there was a feeling of celebration in the lobby.

She headed for campus and literally received a chill when she saw all the signage and decorations welcoming back alumni. She parked in the lot in front of the campus landmarks—the Twin Tower dormitories.

She got out of her rental car and looked up at the buildings as a tourist would the skyscrapers in New York. Her mind raced through a medley of events that happened in the towers, from the all-night games of spades and backgammon to the sister from Virginia Beach who set up a makeshift salon in her room, providing everything from affordable relaxers to shampoos to braids; to having her first-ever college date, Michael Jennings, in the lobby. Neither of them had money to go anywhere, so he bought takeout from Charlie Wong's Chinese Restaurant around the corner and they spent two hours on a couch in the lobby eating and talking.

“I miss this place,” she said to herself.

When she walked down to the prodigious Student Union building, site of the homecoming pep rally, she expected to see
many friends and familiar faces. It was a nostalgic walk. Along the way she had images of herself as a teenager, a student, taking the same walk. She recalled thinking she knew everything back then when, in reality, she didn't know much at all. She also recalled how liberated she felt; there were no parents to tell her what to do, when to do it or where to go. She was on her own for the first time in her life. It was scary, in a sense. But that comfort of being around myriad people who looked like her made it feel like family, easing the trepidation.

She stopped at the site of the old library and remembered the many days she and her sorority sisters would gather there. It was their meeting spot. They would convene there for photos or use it as a launching point to move on to the next thing. And on a few occasions they actually went inside and studied.

Watching a group of Deltas meet at the enormous new Lyman Beecher Brooks Library made her smile.
But they looked so young
, she thought.

She strolled through a portion of Brown Hall, the oldest building on campus, just because she took so many classes there and because it was the first place she ever saw Brandon. He actually picked up her books when she bumped into him and they fell to the floor. It wasn't the classic eyes-meet-and-they-fall-in-love event, though. Instead, it was more like her eyes met his and his eyes said “bye.”

When she exited a side door of Brown Hall, between the library and the old gym, she could hear the music from the pep rally, which was winding down up ahead at the Student Center. She could see in the distance a huge gathering of people and it made her pride swell even more.

“Tranise?” she heard to her right. When she turned, there was her old roommate, Mary Cotton, who was from Baltimore, but worked closer to D.C.

“Oh my God, girl,” she said, and Tranise hugged her as one does her pillow at night.

“Mary,” she said, “so good to see you.”

When they let go, they both wiped away tears.

“I'm so mad at you,” Mary said. “I've been trying to reach you for years, girl. Where the hell have you been?”

“I know,” Tranise said. “I'm sorry. I had a sort of challenging time after graduation. I'll tell you about it later. But I ended up moving to Atlanta and becoming a schoolteacher.”

“Really? That's great,” Mary said.

As she spoke, Tranise actually stopped listening and stared at Mary. She looked great. Her short, jazzy hairstyle was just like in college, only updated. Her tight, slim physique was as tight and slim. And she wore the most fashionable clothes, like the last time she'd seen her. She was one of the few kids in college whose parents were able to supply her with steady doses of money.

Mary was a talker and Tranise couldn't wait for her to stop, so she interrupted her. “Girl, you look so good,” she said. “Where are you?”

“Thanks. And so do you. That extra weight looks great on you,” Mary said. “I come to Atlanta all the time. I live in northern Virginia. I work for the FCC in D.C. It's expensive up there, but everything is fine.

“I was talking about you to Charlene last night; she should be here any minute,” Mary went on. “I'm going to meet her at the airport in about thirty minutes. Charlene lives in Charlotte, working for Bank of America. You know her and numbers.”

“How could I forget?” Tranise said. “She was a walking calculator.”

“You should go with me to the airport to surprise her,” Mary said. “She will shit a brick when she sees you.”

“Okay, let's do that,” Tranise said. “I don't have any other
plans. But you know, Mary, this is so exciting. I have not been on campus in four years. Don't you feel proud?”

“I've come back every year for homecoming and I still feel the pride you're talking about,” Mary said. “It's like this is the place where we grew up.”

Suddenly, another of their old classmates came up behind Mary and lifted her off of the ground.

“Yeah, who is this? Who is this?” he said. “I could kidnap you and you'd never know who did it.”

“Put me down,” Mary said, laughing. “Whoever it is needs some deodorant and a breath mint.”

“Ah, that's cold,” the guy said, letting her free.

She turned around to see Cedric Collins, one of the biggest guys on campus who did not play football.

“Ced, you're so crazy,” Mary said, and they hugged. “Ced, you remember Tranise?”

He looked at Tranise with a smile and extended his hand.

“I don't, but happy homecoming,” he said. “You sort of look like Tranise . . . Knight, I think her last name was.”

“I
am
Tranise Knight,” I said. She remembered Cedric; fun-loving, loud guy who did not mind being in the spotlight.

“Oh, wow,” he said. “It
is
you. Tranise, you look great.”

They hugged.

“Nobody's seen you since graduation,” he said. “Looks like you're doing great, as everyone expected.”

“Thanks, Cedric,” she said. “What are you up to?”

“You know, keeping it moving,” he said. His voice was booming. It almost sounded as if he spoke with a megaphone. “Lawyer in Chicago. Just passed the bar. Loving Chicago, not loving the job. But, hey, it's just good to have a job these days, you know?”

The three of them chatted for a few minutes as the pep rally
wound down. The last of the fraternities and sororities put on a prelude to the step show that night at Joe Echols Arena and the band cranked hip-hop songs that made the huge crowd dance.

“How great is this?” Tranise said. “I remember being over there, in that crowd of students, having a ball. This is almost like an out-of-body experience.”

The Student Government Association president, a strong-talking young man named David Allen Brown from New Jersey, ended the pep rally with these words: “It is so great to see so many alumni back to our beloved Norfolk State University. This still is
your
school as much as it is ours. You have helped make this university what it is. You have laid the groundwork and been an example for us to follow. When we graduate, it will be an exciting and a sad day. But it's good to know that when we come back for homecoming, we'll be welcomed as you all are this weekend . . . Happy Homecoming.”

Mary, Tranise and Cedric hugged each other. The band blared the school song and Tranise felt overly nostalgic. “I feel like a fool that I have not been back here in four years,” she said, her eyes watering.

Neither Mary nor Cedric responded. They sang the school song and offered smiles as wide as the building.

“Oh, check it out,” Cedric said. “The homecoming drama has already started.”

“Homecoming drama?” Tranise asked.

“Hell, yeah, girl,” Mary informed her. “There's a whole lot of it. What happened, Ced?”

“Well, you remember Teresa and Moe, right? They dated for almost three years,” he said. “Well, if you recall, Moe left her when she told him she was pregnant. They were all lovey-dovey and as soon as she gets pregnant, he bounced on her and his baby.
Well, she never saw him again—until about thirty minutes ago in the bookstore.

“I was there buying some stuff. Have you been there yet? It's awesome . . . Anyway, so he's looking at T-shirts and she's looking at women's T-shirts and they almost literally bumped into each other. I was standing there with my mouth open because I saw both of them come into the store. So, here's the kicker: She has their daughter with her!!! She looks like she's six or seven and looks just like Moe. I'm like, ‘Ah, shit.' So, Moe says something—I couldn't hear him—and leans in to hug her.

“Teresa leans back, like, ‘Don't touch me.' Then she looks at her daughter, who doesn't know what the hell is going on. Teresa tells the girl to go look at books or something because the little girl walks off. When she gets out of earshot, she turns to Moe and lets him have it. She had her finger in his face for a minute and her neck was rocking. Moe—you know how light-skinned his ass is—turned as red as a stop sign. I was like, ‘Damn.'