Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich - Operation Sisterhood

SO IT REALLY WAS a dark and stormy night, and it figured, thought Bo. Of course it was a dark and stormy night. Of course it was.

Okay, so it wasnt actually night, technically. It was afternoon, and Bo sat on her bed, looking through the iron child-safety bars of her bedroom window, listening to the rain thunking against the metal fire escape outside. Still, dark and stormy afternoon was close enough. And on the same day that her teacher had made the whole class enter an annoying writing contest where the prize went to the worst writing possible. School was almost over, and instead of just letting Bo hang out in the band room with the monster drum set, Ms. Phillip expected her to spend the time productively. On a writing contest that didnt matter. What sense did that make? Ms. Phillip said the contest was inspired by some guy whod started his book with It was a dark and stormy night, which apparently was the worst writing ever, even if it didnt seem so bad to Bo. Certainly not as bad as spending an ENTIRE PERIOD trying YOUR BEST to write YOUR WORST. At SCHOOL. She was sure Mary Church Terrell would not be happy to have her name on a school that did things like that. And she was sure because shed won the award for the best Mary Church Terrell speech last year. Shed always had the best teachersshe made cards and cookies for them every winter break. Until Ms. Phillip. She was the kind of teacher who kept changing due dates after you already turned the assignment in. Bo had just given her a card she bought at CVSand shed signed it Best, which Mum had told her was petty-polite. Still, Mum had let it slide. She was cool like that, like a swing cymbal beat.

Thunder clapped, and Bo jumped. She heard her mum laugh down the hall. Bill must be telling one of his corny jokes again. Since neither of them had normal jobs, Bill and her mum had developed an afternoon tea routine that Bo had to admit was pretty cute. When hed arrived today, shaking his wet umbrella all over the floor, hed said, If anyone needs an ark, I happen to NOAH guy! and Mum had actually for-real laughed! Bo had laughed too, mostly because it was such a bad joke that you couldnt do anything else. And because she liked Bill and his corny jokes. And because hed winked at her; hed known it was bad, but hed said it anyway, and there was something good about that. Bo liked Bill a lot. But now that he had his own key to their apartment and felt comfortable enough to be shaking his umbrella all over the placeit made Bo a tiny bit itchy.

BOOM! Thunder again. It was so dark. Looked like it was going to be a dark and stormy night for real, and there was no need to say it some other, prettier way. Sometimes it was good to just see and speak things as they were. Like: her mum and Bill were serious. Real serious. Theyd probably get married, and Bill would be telling jokes all day long, and Bo would have to hurry up in the bathroom even though she was just getting to the age where she was supposed to spend all of her time in there, looking at herself in the mirror and figuring out her best selfie angles.

Even though she never took selfies and kind of liked Bills jokes and loved hearing Mum laughthe idea of Bill as herstepdad(?) needed some time to settle. She and Mum had been a team of two for all of Bos life, and it worked. Bill was clearly becoming essential to Mum, and Bo was used to being all I need to get by, as Mum would sing when they baked together.

As lightning flashed and the rain continued to thud against the window, Mum called, Sweetie pie, Bills leaving!

Dont come out. Ill see you soon, yelled Bill. Just saying bye. Im heading home before it starts raining chickens and ducks, because then it would be real FOWL weather! He laughed, Mum laughed, and Bo had to laugh again too, even as she rolled her eyes.

Bye, Bill! she said, sticking her head out of her door. See you soon. She really did like him. She closed the door so she wouldnt have to hear goodbye smooching, and went to her desk. She pulled an overstuffed folder that said bos bakes on the front from the middle of a precariously placed tower of books. Mum had started collecting and creating special mother-daughter recipes when she was pregnant with Bo, and as soon as she could sit in a little vibrating baby chair on the table while Mum baked, Bo had been her special helper for weekly baking dates. They hadnt baked together in a while; Mum had been working a lot, teaching cooking in schools and community centers. And spending time with Bill.