When We Couldn’t

I hated waking up in the mornings. Isaac “cooked” the same crisp, Ego waffles and side of scrambled eggs that smelled rotten. The stench filled the whole kitchen and as a result, my clothes reeked of a farm. I prayed that the kids on the bus wouldn’t notice it that day. I tried to mask it with some cheap Japanese Blossom perfume Aunt Lydia gave me for my birthday the previous month. She packaged together a box of Trojan condoms, Always Pads, a small bottle of the perfume from Bath and Body Works, with a makeshift card that read,

“I’m not encouraging you to fuck with these condoms, they’re just here for emergency purposes. If your monthly ain’t came yet, she’s on the way. Every lady should have a go to smell that compliments her, this is a good start. Don’t use it all at once.”

Love,

Aunt Lydia (Oh yeah, don’t ever write in red pen. I just couldn’t find another damn pen at the moment)

That was her, always bluntly honest, even when no one cared to hear her opinion. I had just turned thirteen, and according to her, I was a woman. Now what makes a woman is a mystery as my mama wasn’t around to teach me how to be a woman. I’ve lived with Isaac, my mama’s father for as long as I can remember. Mama used to work at some lab in the city, and while completing her Master’s in Biology, she met my daddy. All I knew about him was that he was a white man. My Aunt Lydia said she only met him once in passing while in the city. She happened to be leaving her job at Macy’s when she caught a glimpse of my mama getting off of the train. “He was a tall fella, bout’ 6’1. Had this curly brown afro goin’ on and eyes the color of emerald.” I guess that’s why my eyes are hazel. “Of course, Roz (my mama), tried to ignore me and go the other way. I yelled cross that road and told her to bring her ass over there to speak to her auntie. She ain’t wanna introduce him, but she told me he was a co-worker. How he was gazing at her, she had his heart. Now if it was the other way round is the question. Not long after that, your grandaddy said she called to tell him she was having a baby. I guess they mixed too much business with pleasure.”

Maybe if either one of them was around, I would know so much more about life and how to navigate through it. I’ve been winging it with a little help from Lydia and my best friend Azrael’s mom. She’s a Southern black woman, with a long drawl, wide hips, big butt, and a beautiful smile. She’s the one that finally combed my sandy brown hair after she said she was tired of it looking a mess. Every Sunday, I go to their house so that she can braid it down into 5-6 large cornrows. She’s the closest thing that I have to a mama.

One particular morning, after tearing off burnt pieces of the waffle and scrapping the eggs into Bruno’s bowl on the floor, the phone rang. Isaac had this old Crosley wall phone that was so loud the neighbors could hear when we got a call. He was positioned in his normal seat in front of his ancient Sony box TV, sipping on a cup of Folger’s coffee. He acted like he didn’t hear the phone. He cleared his throat one time, so I guess he wanted me to do it. “Hello, Ross residence. How many I help you?” “Is this Sagan Shaylae Ross?” “Yes, this is she.” “Hello Sagan, this is Ms. Nancy Smith from Smith Law Firm here in Warlington. I’m sorry to inform you that your mother has passed. Per her request, her ashes were spread across Lake Warlington and no one was notified of her death. However, she did leave a last will and testament. You are listed as one of her beneficiaries. The reading of her will is today at 5:00 at the library. You are more than welcome to come. I was trying to decide whether I should cry or not. I hadn’t heard from my mama since my tenth birthday. She called because it had been exactly ten years since they admitted her into Belux (the mental hospital). Her case was up for a review hearing, and she was optimistic that she was coming home. “Say, I should be home soon sweetie. I know it’s been a long road, but mama is going to make up for it.” She was supposed to call me back later that evening, but I didn’t hear from her again. She was readmitted and Isaac did or said nothing.

“Isaac, that was a lawyer just now. She says that mama is dead.” He continued to drink his coffee and watch the news. “Well, she lived longer than her mama.” That’s all he had to say. His only child was dead, and all he said was that she lived longer than her mama. I was so disgusted with him but decided that it was best if I just went in my room to think. I didn’t go to school that day. I slept in mama’s childhood room. The walls were still painted a faint blue. She told me that she painted it that color because she imagined that she was an astronaut in outer space. Isaac painted the Little and Big Dipper on her ceiling. The lines had faded away, but you could see little white specs of paint where they once were. I slept in the same twin bed she did. It was a chestnut brown color and creaked every time you would lay down. I put my headphones in and started playing Earth Wind and Fire’s “On Your Face.” I was only thirteen but had an old soul. All Isaac played were oldies like Earth Wind and Fire, the O’Jays, and The Temptations. My favorite song was “Forever Mine.” I clinched my pillow a little tighter and drifted off to sleep. I set an alarm to wake up at 4:30, the library was right down the road. I decided to wear this pink, flowery sun dress I got from Walmart and a pair of brown sandals. Ms. Parker had just done my hair, so it was fresh. When I walked into the library, I spoke to Ms. Jones the librarian and asked where this Ms. Smith was at. She lowered her glasses, smiled and directed me to the back-conference room. I was so nervous. I could feel my palms getting sweaty and my heart jumping in my neck. What could my mama had left me?

Ms. Smith was a tall, lanky black woman who had long, red fingernails and box braids placed into a nicely formed bun. She was clicking and clacking across the room in 6-inch red bottom heels. “Hi Sagan, so nice to meet you. You can sit right here.” I didn’t know any of the people in the room, but they appeared to have known me. Everyone nodded and smiled as I scrolled through my pictures on my phone. I glanced up a few times and caught one particular man staring. “Alright everyone, let’s start.”

“Good evening, everyone. I have spoken with most of you on the phone. My name is Nancy Smith with Smith Law Firm. My husband and I oversaw the estate of Ms. Ross and have brought you all together to read her last will and testament. It reads as follows:”

“I, Rosalind Louise Ross, being of sound mind and body, leave the following items to the listed persons. Although I have been institutionalized for some time, I know that my time to leave this Earth will come and I want those who were close to me to reap the benefits of my life’s work. Although I was a child in mind when you were conceived Sagan, I loved you with all my heart. You were my biggest creation and blessing. I leave to you this locket. Although it has rusted over time, this piece of jewelry is important to me. It contains some of my life’s most treasured moments, and I want you to place it near your heart forever.”

Ms. Smith brought over to me a silver heart-shaped locket. It appeared old but shiny and somehow it felt like the weight of her entire life rested in it. As Ms. Smith continued with the will, I was fixated on the locket and what it represented to mama. I slowly opened it up, and inside were a few small words.

“The greatest science in the world, in Heaven and on Earth, is love”- Dr.

After the meeting, I walked up to Ms. Smith and asked her did she know who gave my mother the locket. She said that according to mama, my dad did while they were in graduate school. I asked her if she knew his name or where he stayed. She said that he was a local high school teacher in a neighboring town and that his name was Louis Reeves. Something in me told me that I needed to find him so that he could explain the significance behind the locket. Why would she want me to have it? What purpose did it serve?

That evening when I returned home, I ate a PB&J sandwich at the dinner table alone. Isaac had gone to his monthly lodge meeting so there wasn’t much in the house to do or eat. I looked Louis up on Facebook. He was married (she appeared to be not much older than me) and had three little boys. She had a tannish skin complexion, so I assumed she was Native American or Hispanic. I looked up his name online, and surprisingly found his address. The next day, I woke up determined to find out more about myself.

When I got off of the bus in Oars Rest, I noticed out the corner of my eye a black SUV following me down the block. It rode a good distance behind me and even turned a street to throw me off. When I got in front of his house, the truck pulled up and a man got out. He was a short, stout man with a receiving hairline and baggy dress pants that sat under a large belly. He walked over to me and introduced himself as Demetrius. He was at the meeting the day before. “I used to work with Roz a few years ago, and we were good friends. That locket was very important to her. I tell ya what kid, if you let me have it, I will give you $20,000 today.” He pulled out a long, white envelope and handed it to me. Even though that kind of money would help me and Isaac, something told me to hold onto the locket. I stood there, pondered, and actually contemplated letting him have it. Then, I heard my mother’s voice. Shaky, scared, unsure and helpless. I just couldn’t do it. He appeared to be getting agitated by my indecisiveness. Before he could continue his scolding, Louis walked out the door. “Sagan, come on in sweetie, we have a lot to discuss.” He said nothing to the man but gave him this piercing look that could have killed.

“I was wondering when you would come find me. I’ve waited for you for a long time. Isaac wouldn’t let me see you, but I always checked on you through your Aunt Lydia. So, you have questions about the locket, right?” How he knew why I was there is still a mystery, but nonetheless I proceeded to ask. “Well, I gave your mother that locket while we were working in a lab back in grad school. We had been working on a new formula that could possibly cure cancer. Your grandmother, Roz’s mom, died in childbirth after going through her pregnancy with Stage 3 breast cancer. She worked day in and day out, running tests, missing meals, skipping class, and even ignoring me. She always said that she loved me but loved science more. One day, she came to me in a frantic. Her small, cropped afro was in disarray and skinny brown legs quivered as she stood there trying to explain to me what she discovered. While working one night in the lab alone, she concocted this formula that counteracted with a disfigured cancer cell. Then, she tried the same formula on a dog named Lucky, that had been suffering from arthritis. She felt like she found a cure that could heal any ailment. Not only did she find a cure, but the chemical reaction led to another dimension or time. I thought that she may have fell asleep, but the story was so vivid, I had to believe her.”

“She said that she woke up in a gray world. Everyone was walking around in mask. There were long vaccination lines to a “magical cure.” Everyone seemed as gray as their world. There were signs that said if you received the magical cure, the government had control over you and your assets. That was a way for them to protect themselves from those who may try to abuse the system. She asked someone what year it was, and they said “2020.” She asked the same person where they were, and they said “Languorem.” Although I discouraged her, she took it upon herself to present this magical cure to the World Health Board. They laughed in her face and assured her that she was mad. After running a few tests, they realized that she was right. They offered her millions of dollars to turn over her formula, but she wouldn’t give it to them. Although we were estranged, she entrusted me with it. I placed the formula inside the locket behind a picture of a famous scientist, Rosalind Franklin, her namesake. That’s the woman that you see.” “Apparently, she thought that you were strong and wise enough to handle it. Don’t take her gift lightly.”

We talked for a while on his front porch. I didn’t see or hear his wife and kids, but I saw through the window a family picture of them. They seemed really happy. Before I left, he gave me a hug, kissed my forehead and told me to come by sometime. “Although it did not work out with me and your mom, I did love her very much. She just wasn’t ready for my love.” I walked away, knowing that I may never want to see him again. The ride home on the bus was quiet. The driver, an older black man with a salt and pepper beard, hummed to a tune on the radio. An older white woman sat clinching her purse. I stared out the window and thought of my mama. What could I do with such a large gift?

When I got back to Warlington, I decided to go to the lake where her ashes were released. I felt the brisk wind coming from the water, heard frogs croaking and flies buzzing. I sat on top of a large boulder, thinking about my gift. Should I just give it to the man? Should I give it to a large company that could pay me twice as much? Should I destroy it? A million thoughts flooded my head, but I was unsure at that point. The pressure felt like one hundred pounds sitting on my chest. I could always feel when someone was watching me. That feeling suddenly sprang on me like a monkey on my back. Who would know that I was here? Was it the man again? The water seeped through my toes as I used my phone’s camera to see who it was. It was Isaac. He looked infuriated. He was holding something in his hand. It was a gun!

I slowly turned around and asked, “What are you doing?” He stared at the river, stared back at me and then locked his eyes on the locket around my neck. “That necklace represents something I despise, hope. Your grandmother was a genius. She envisioned finding a natural cure to cancer and it ultimately killed her. She chose having a baby over chemo and when she died, I died. Your mother spent her whole life hoping for a cure to solve all of life’s problems and it ultimately killed her. I’m not going to let you do the same thing. All this damn hope ends today.” He took the gun and pointed it at the locket. A large knot formed in my chest, and I grasped for air. I could barely get his name out of my mouth. “I-I-I-Isaac, please don’t do this. It’s me, Say.” He placed his hand harder on the trigger, closed his eyes and shot.