DC By the Book

Excerpt: And then Woody called and suggested they meet at "our" hotel, as he referred to it because it would be their third visit. The Holiday Inn is near Union Station, not too far from Catholic University, where Woody teaches, or from Norma's Capitol Hill studio loft and the gallery where Norma had been earlier, checking on the available wall space. It is the day before New Year's Eve, and there are several large signs announcing the hotel's scheduled festivities.

Excerpt: Moxie drives through downtown and out H Street to Benning Road, Northeast, and then over to Minnesota Avenue. ... She heads toward Jay Street and the stacks of red-brick apartment buildings that match the muddy clay they rise from. The buildings are similar in shape and design; she drives closer to make out the timeworn numbers. Octavius's building looks more like an institution than anyone's home. An apparently fire-ravaged apartment on the top floor appears vacant. In one window a curtain, torn and charred at the edges, flaps in the empty window frame. Someone has stuck a piece of plywood in the other visible window. A group of young men huddle at a nearby corner. One wears a bandana around his head, another has on a heavy down parka with a fur-trimmed hood. Several are in leather coats. Moxie wonders whether they are drug dealers or workers on a late shift. She doesn't like to buy into stereotypes, but in this part of town folks seem to have less of everything including grass, trees, and decent jobs.

Excerpt: A week before their July 1989 wedding, Lawrence moved into Norma's one-bedroom Apartment on Fourteenth Place in the northeast section of Washington. The apartment was in a quaint two-story brownstone, with ribbons of plant-thriving sunlight gushing in from windows the size of some folks' doors. Lawrence had just taken the D.C. bar exam. A few months earlier, he had become an associate attorney with Davis, Lodge, and Badger, a large law firm on K Street. Norma was working at a Gallery but planned to return to graduate school in Baltimore and major in photography. ... Lawrence was certain he was on the track toward becoming the firm's second black partner, so Norma's father put them in touch with a realtor buddy. They purchased a modest three-bedroom on Aspen Street, NW, close to Walter Reed Army Hospital.

Excerpt: By Christmas vacation of her freshman year in 1979, Moxie had observed a healthy sampling of the available men at Howard University. In her mind, they seemed older and wiser and far surpassed what her high school boyfriend, David, had to offer. ... Lying there Moxie noticed the many photographs Norma had taken and apparently developed herself. A group of students doubled over in laughter on the quad, a muscular guy skateboarding near Cramton, and several shots from a Caribbean parade down Georgia Avenue.

Excerpt: "This ain't Eastern Market." "That's okay. Just let me out right here," she says, trying to keep her voice from quivering. ... She is at Fourth and Pennsylvania, still a good walk from her studio on South Carolina and Eleventh. It has stopped snowing, but the chill nips at her ears nonetheless. ... Unsure of whether to hail another cab for the nine or so blocks remaining or to walk the distance, she is frustrated at her inability to make this simple decision. She can feel her hands trembling, although thrust deep into her coat pockets. She craves the comfort of her darkroom.

Excerpt: Saw Revelations for the hundredth time (slight exaggeration) tonight at the Kennedy Center. Dad kept clapping when everyone else had stopped. Also his beeper went off—Fawna bugging out, I guess—embarrassing for real. I love the part when the dancers use the scarves to look like waves in the water. And there was a male dancer whose ground jetés were amazing. Judith Jamison came out at the end and took bows, and people threw her roses.

Excerpt: On Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays when I don't have ballet, me and Allegra get off the bus near Wilson and hang out—when it's not too cold. We try to act like we go that school, and we act like we're not virgins cause you don't want anyone calling you a virgin bitch. Some of the white girls at school say they're still virgins because all they do is blow guys. Watch on Monday, somebody will be talking about how they blew five or six guys over the weekend. They brag about that shit! I'm sorry but I think that is so foul.

Excerpt: The same year Moxie protested home-made clothes, her mother decided to teach Moxie to sew and to purchase the new sewing machine, after perusing several store catalogs. Moxie and her mother drown downtown to Hecht's department store, where the black Singer was the last one of the desired model. Gleaming with gold trim and lettering, it had buttonholed-making capability and several other functions the old one didn't. It was the display model and no box could be found for it, so the price was discounted. Moxie's mother pulled the car up to the service entrance, and a Hecht's employee carried it out to the trunk, tying the trunk down with heavy rope.

Excerpt: Because it's Sunday, Moxie isn't sure whether the library parking lot will be open, but as she turns left from H Street onto Ninth, she locates a vacant parking space. She lines her car up next to a mound of dirty snow and shifts into reverse. Before getting out, Moxie spots a group of teenagers huddled on one of the stone benches in front of the Martin Luther King Library. The sun is setting, and she squints because she can't tell whether Zadi is among the four girls and one guy. They're laughing, and one of the girls playfully hits the boy. When he jumps up, the girl jumps up, still hitting at him, like a kitten pawing a rubber ball. The boy backs up as the girl moves toward him. In the next moment he grabs her arms and wrestles with her, both laughing. The boy is tall, wearing a baseball cap and an oversized jacket. The girl is almost as tall, and as he spins her around, Moxie sees that it's Zadi.

Excerpt: Market Five Gallery, where Norma's premier exhibit takes place, has a steady flow of patrons. Norma's mostly black-and-white photographs of varying sizes cover the clapboard walls. The light jazz sounds of Neena Freelon and others from Lawrence's formidable CD collection filter though the chatter of the art seekers. Wine, cheese, diced fruit, and vegetables are attractively arranged on two tables at either end of the room. Purple fuchsia, and gold balloons graze the ceiling, their curled ribbons dangling above the guests' heads.

Excerpt: Lawrence came up with an idea that they should buy another house, as if their sadness would be left behind on Aspen Street. Because, for the first time in a long while, he seemed excited about something, she went along with it. But the responsibility of finding a new place fell on her. She was physically drained and about to give up when the real estate agent finally found something she liked in the 1600 block of Holly Street NW. It was located in a partial cul-de-sac, secluded and quaint, containing the pre-requisite large light-saturated rooms for the throng of plants. There were four bedrooms, two with real fireplaces and a partially finished basement with a separate entrance. The two things she loved most about the house were the beautiful white-barked birch tree in the front yard and that the house looked out on a large woodland, allowing a visual reprieve from the typical city landscape. After all her searching, Lawrence said, "If you like it, fine." They moved into their new home in November 1997, with Norma hopeful things would return to the "before."

Excerpt: At the end of the week, on Saturday, Norma drops Miles at her parents' house so that she can meet Woody to look at apartments... At a red light just past the zoo on Connecticut Ave, she checks the address again, scrawled in pencil by Woody on lined yellow paper. Why would he even consider living this far from everything? she wonders. His daughter, his job, and her. The apartment building is vintage red brick. Ivy ropes travel up one side and brush against some of the windows. She is buzzed in and stops at the front desk. "Number four-oh-four," she says.

Excerpt: "Yes, I want to see the other place with you. Where is it?" "Adams Morgan." "That's more like it. A diverse neighborhood."... There is rarely parking in Adams Morgan, even on the winding side streets. The neighborhood is lively with street vendors hawking everything from fake-fur car seats to children's polyester-and-satin church clothes. Throngs of people are out, enjoying the unseasonably warm weather. They end up driving around for a while without any luck. Woody finally turns down a street that reveals a small parking space. "Can you fit?" Norma asks, doubtful. "It'll be tight, but I think I can." He turns the steering wheel repeatedly, maneuvering forward and back until they're in. They walk several blocks to the apartment building. The street is crowded with trees and townhouses nestled over the narrow sidewalk.

Excerpt: Earlier today, Norma saw people jogging near the Capitol with shorts on. It is only the last full week of February and it's fifty degrees outside. She is glad that winter seems to be limping to its end earlier than usual. The meteorologists predict record-breaking temperatures before official spring. "Because of global warming," Zadi told her last year when there several remarkably warm days, "the world is going to burn up by the time I'm grown."

Excerpt: Driving down H Street toward North Capitol, [Norma] selects people she would photograph if the lighting were better, if she wasn't so troubled: two teenage girls in huge platform heels waiting at a bus stop next to an older woman in sensible shoes; and an overweight man jogging slowly, trailing a small dog on a leash. Moxie flashes across her mind. I need a friend, damn it, she thinks. The street is sprinkled with people getting on with the minutiae of their lives. She must get on with hers.

Excerpt: We parked and walked around in Mazza Gallerie—and white people followed us around in the stores and shit. (Just like when I go in stores near school with Windy and they watch me, never her.) Anyway, Octavius said, I wish they would do something, I wish they would make me take off my Eddie Bauer coat so I could sue them for discrimination and win me and you some funds. But nothing happened except for us getting mad. [excerpt of Zadi's diary]

Excerpt: They drive downtown and park close to the Washington Monument, where Norma remembers having come for a kite festival years ago. She removes her camera case from the trunk of her car. There is no festival today, but the rain has stopped; there are light wind gusts, and there is a hill. Norma reads the instructions and puts the kite together, pleased with herself for not reacting to Miles' impatient tugging. They stand on the hill and fly the kite. They run up and down the incline as the dragon kite streams out behind them. Norma stops for a few moments and shoots one shot after another of Miles running and laughing, using up an entire roll of film.