All I Want is Everything

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All I Want is Everything Page 3

by Daaimah S. Poole

Ms. Arlene came in and coached my mom on what to say to the man’s supervisor.

  I ran up the steps and awoke Bilal. “Get in the shower. Take a five-minute shower.”

  I got Bubbles up and she got in just as Bilal jumped out. I could hear my mom on the phone downstairs arguing with the supervisor. Then I heard Ms. Arlene get on the telephone and try to reason with the supervisor. As soon as Bubbles came out, I jumped in. Right in the middle of my warm shower the water turned cold. I rinsed off and came out of the shower. I dried off and began getting dressed. I already figured I would probably have to give my car money to my mom. I put my clothes on and went downstairs. “So what they say?” I asked.

  “They said I owe them three thousand dollars and I need to give them at least a third of it to get the service back on. I’m just not going to go to work today. I’ll get this mess straightened out. Don’t worry,” she said.

  “Mom, I have four hundred dollars—it’s my car money—if you need it,” I reluctantly said.

  “I probably won’t need it, but I’ll take it just in case. Okay, I’ll give it back to you.”

  Lana walked in the house. “What are those men doing outside?” she asked.

  “They turning the gas off,” my mother said.

  “For what? Mom, you didn’t pay the bill?”

  I gave her a glance like, “Shut up.”

  “Mom, why don’t you just call Daddy?” Alanna suggested.

  “I tried. His wife said he was at work. Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out. The gas will be back on by the time y’all come home from school. Just get ready for school and get out of here.”

  Chapter 2

  In the morning I washed up with ice-cold water. It was so chilly in my room that when I yawned, I saw my breath. Without gas we couldn’t cook or have heat. It had been like this for three days. My mother bought some space heaters with my four hundred dollars, but they weren’t doing anything against the thirty-degree cold weather outside. It didn’t seem right that they could turn our gas off, but my mom said by law they could turn off the heat before the first day of winter—December 21—and that was thirty days away. I went to sleep with my clothes on and three blankets over me, and I was still cold. I could feel the cold in my bones and I felt like I was getting sick. At school I couldn’t concentrate. I just kept wondering why my mom didn’t pay our bill in the first place. It seemed like she made enough money at her job. She worked at a retirement home, and we never had this happen before. We had had our cable get turned off a couple of times until she got paid, and once our phone was even off for a week. But I never in my life been cold before. I think this is just as bad as being hungry.

  School was the same bunch of dumb classes, but at least it was warm. I couldn’t wait until the end of the day, though, so I could go to practice. That was the only thing that made me happy and kept me going, knowing that the talent show was coming up. When I got onstage I didn’t care about anyone saying anything about my teeth or saying I was too skinny. When I sing, no one notices any of that. They only pay attention to my voice. The show was in one week and I couldn’t wait to be on that stage and be special and get all the attention.

  At practice this girl name Jackie said she was singing Toni Braxton’s “Unbreak My Heart.” She sounded horrible! Her voice didn’t suit the song at all. But she had her heart set on that song and said her mom was getting her a dress made. I told her that was nice, but I wasn’t going that far. I was just wearing a blue dress that I had since last summer. We stayed in rehearsal until Mr. Smith, the janitor, told me he was locking up. I practiced my notes over and over again. I was going to sing perfectly and get a standing ovation.

  After I left school I walked to the corner and waited for the C bus. It was not coming, so I started walking. I got about three blocks down and saw the bus approaching. I was in the middle of the block, so I ran to the next corner. I thought the bus was going to pass me. The bus driver saw me, opened the door, and let me on. I put a token in and walked to the back of the crowded bus. There was nowhere to sit, but two stops later a lady got off and I sat in her seat. I finally was able to relax until my stop. I layed my head against the window, closed my eyes, and prayed that the heat was back on and everything was back to normal.

  From the corner of my block I saw my dad John’s car. I opened the door and hoped that he had taken care of everything.

  “Hey, Dad, you got the gas back on?” I asked.

  “No, your mom gonna handle that. I just bought y’all a few kerosene heaters to keep it warm in here,” he said, pouring something into the heaters.

  “Oh? Why didn’t you just pay the bill?” I asked.

  “Kendra, your mother let the gas get cut off. So she is responsible for getting it back on.”

  I corrected him and said, “Well, if you would have paid your child support she probably could have paid the bill.”

  “You don’t know what I pay or what I do,” he said, stopping and looking up at me.

  “I do know what you don’t do. I know if you wouldn’t have left us, our heat would still be on. I know you care more about Charlotte and her kids than you do about us. I know you don’t ever come see us. You worried about that stupid woman. She got you brainwashed,” I said as I stood over him with my hands on my hips.

  “Kendra, your mouth is so damn smart. You going to end up just like your mother—old, miserable, and alone.”

  “My mother isn’t old, miserable, or alone. You know what? You real stupid, taking care of Charlotte’s three kids that ain’t yours while you got five here that belong to you.”

  “Don’t mind my business. Stay in a child’s place,” he said under his breath.

  I let him know I heard what he said. “I’m not a child. I’m almost grown. I don’t know if you remember, but I’ll be eighteen in a month,” I shouted.

  “Well, I’m glad you almost grown. Don’t look for anything from me since you so damn grown.”

  I wanted to tell my dad, fuck you. But I still had a little respect for him, so I flagged him and said, “Whatever!”

  Alanna walked in out of the cold. “Daddy,” she screamed as she ran and hugged the man who didn’t do anything for us. She treated my dad like a king and he loved her treatment.

  “Hey, princess,” he said as he gave her a kiss. As mean as Alanna was to everyone else, she adored him. There was something wrong with that girl, but then they say the absent parent gets all the love. I walked out of the living room into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and pulled out some Hawaiian Punch juice, then sat down and started my homework.

  After my dad installed and filled the three kerosene heaters, he walked out of the door like he always did. Usually I would start dinner, but with no gas I had to wait until my mother came home, which she did around five-thirty.

  “Daddy was here,” I said as she walked through the door.

  “What he say?” my mother asked.

  “Nothing. He left those kerosene heaters. He got smart with me ’cause I told him he should pay you your child support on time.”

  “Your dad does the best he can. At least this will give me some more time until I’ll be able to get the heat on,” she said, a little relieved as she checked out the kerosene heaters.

  “You going back out, Mom?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Here, order two pizzas. If you need me I’ll be down at the Pearl,” she said as she handed me a twenty.

  I ordered the pizza and fed Bubbles and Bilal when they got home from their after-school program. I had to admit it did feel warmer with the kerosene heaters. I didn’t have to walk around with blankets over me, but I still hated my dad. The phone rang. It was Chantel.

  “What’s up?”

  “Kendra, I called to tell you that Dajuan likes you!”

  “No, he don’t.”

  “Yes, he do. He told me. You got to get with him. You know he got a car and he having a party Saturday. He told me to tell you to come. You think he cute, right?”

  “Y
eah, he is cute, but come on. Ain’t he like in the eleventh grade?”

  “He really belongs in the twelfth grade, and he goes to night school so he can graduate on time.”

  “He’s cute, but I don’t like him like that. I don’t have time for dumb boys. And don’t he go with Andrea?”

  “No, they broke up. Think about what you going to wear Saturday, okay?”

  “You going to do my hair?” Bubbles asked, interrupting my conversation.

  “Wait a minute. When I get off the phone. Go get the comb and grease and tell Bilal to get ready for bed.”

  I heard her tell Bilal I said to go to bed and I heard him say, “Man, I’m playing the game.”

  “You heard what I said, Bilal,” I screamed up the steps.

  “Man, can’t I stay up a little longer?” he yelled back.

  “No, ’cause you not gonna want to get up in the morning,” I said as I got back on the phone.

  “Chantel, I have to go. I’ll go to the party on Saturday.” I hung up the phone and began to part, grease, and braid Bubble’s hair in five cornrows going back. Then I went upstairs to relax and get ready for bed. I put my Walkman on my head and began to sing along with my Mary J. Blige tape. I’d loved her ever since she came out with “Real Love.” She was so good, and her voice and lyrics were so deep. I pulled out my song book and began writing. I wrote in my book every time I had a thought. I kept it to the side of my bed. My thoughts were rudely interrupted by Alanna. “Why you always got to be singing? Why don’t you shut up sometimes?” She said as she came into our bedroom. I tried to pay her no attention. She was in the room planning her wardrobe for the week like the snob she was.

  “Kendra, did you wear my pink and purple striped shirt?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you did. How come I can’t find it?”

  “Leave me alone. I don’t feel like it,” I said as I took my clothes off and got in my bed. I was trying to play it cool because I had worn her shirt and forgotten to wash it and put it back. I hoped me telling her I didn’t was convincing enough. I turned my Walkman up higher and closed my eyes.

  “I know you wore my shirt. Next time just ask me. I know you want to be like me,” she said as she pulled my headphones off of one ear. I put my middle finger up at her and she got in her bed. I heard her call Bruce and say how she loved him so much. She made a kissing noise, then turned the light off and went to sleep. She was so boy crazy.

  I liked boys, but they weren’t my world. My mom sat me and Lana down when we were twelve and said boys just want one thing and that’s a hot and tight place to put their dicks. That was the nastiest thing I’d ever heard, and she turned me off from sex. That same speech ain’t do nothing for Lana ’cause I know she giving it up. My sister probably would be pregnant by next summer—at least that’s what my mother said, and I agreed. I tried sex twice. Once with this boy named Mookie two years before—I didn’t like it—and another time with Dontae at summer school. Everybody I knew was doing it and they liked it. Chantel told me it feels real good, but I don’t like no one like that and I don’t want to get pregnant and have a bunch of kids. If my sister gets pregnant maybe I can get my own room, I thought as I rolled over in my bed and went to sleep.

  The pain in my side let me know that my bladder could not wait until the morning to go to the bathroom. Instead of getting up and going, I yawned and tried to lie on my other side. I didn’t feel like walking all the way down the hall to the bathroom. I turned to my side, brought my legs closer to my chest and tried to hold it in and go back to sleep. I still had my Walkman on, and there was a loud commercial on, so I turned it off and placed it to the side of my bed. Then I noticed there was a bright light flickering under the door. I squinted to see exactly what it was. I coughed a little and then sat up. There was a burning smell in the room. I tried to make sense of what I was seeing and smelling. I went up to my door and touched it. It was very hot. I ran over to Lana’s bed and screamed, “Lana, get up.” I shook her arm and body repeatedly.

  “What?” she said as she snatched her arm back and turned to her other side.

  “Lana, get up and call 911. I think the house is on fire!”

  “What? Leave me alone. Stop playing. I’m asleep.”

  “Lana!” I screamed again. I opened the door and saw dark yellow and orange flames halfway up the steps. There was black smoke everywhere, but the fire hadn’t reached the hallway yet. I closed the door and screamed, “Wake the fuck up, Alanna! It’s a fire. Call 911.” I snatched her out of the bed. She finally saw how serious I was and got up and searched for the cordless phone.

  “It’s not working. We going to die,” she yelled.

  “Be quiet. We not going to die. Yell ‘fire’ out the window and see if anyone is outside. I have to get the kids.”

  Me and Alanna were in the front room. I ran into the middle room to check if my mom was home, but her bed was empty. I ran past the steps where the fire was rising rapidly. It was coming up the steps. I could feel the heat on my back and neck. Lana came into the hallway and said the neighbors were calling the police. She then went into the bathroom and grabbed a bucket and threw water down the steps. That made the fire get higher and rise faster up the steps. I ran into the room next to my mother’s bedroom. Bubbles was still lying in the bed asleep.

  “Bubbles, get up! It’s a fire!” I looked all around but didn’t see Bilal. “Where is Bilal?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I coaxed her past the flames and had Alanna take her into the front room.

  “Where you going?” Lana asked.

  “I have to find Bilal!” I hoped he wasn’t downstairs.

  The fire was getting closer to the top of the steps. I was coughing, but I put my T-shirt over my mouth and kept walking toward the back room. There was dark smoke everywhere and I could barely see my own hand in front of me. I extended my arms out to make sure I didn’t bump into anything. I reached John’s room and found Bilal balled up in John’s bed. He had fallen asleep playing the game.

  I tried to pick him up, but I was becoming weak and coughing. I almost couldn’t breathe. I felt myself losing strength. I couldn’t leave him but he felt so heavy. I pulled him out of the bed and began dragging him across the floor. That’s when I heard glass break. A few seconds later I saw a figure in a yellow suit coming toward me. He picked me up and pulled me off of Bilal.

  I kicked and screamed, “My brother!” I fought him and yelled, “My brother! My brother! My brother! You’ve got to get my brother!” I continued to yell until I almost passed out.

  The man carried me past the flames into the front room and passed me out the window to another firefighter. I unwillingly went down the ladder. All our neighbors were outside looking up. Three fire trucks and two ambulances were there. I could hear the firefighters’ radios and their trucks idling. They sat me on a stretcher and put an oxygen mask on my face inside the ambulance. As soon as they sat me down on the stretcher I told them to get off of me and that I had to get my brother.

  “Get my brother! Get my brother!” I yelled. They told me to calm down, but I couldn’t calm down. I jumped off the stretcher. I ran out and saw Alanna. She was holding Bubbles next to her, and they were looking up at the window. My next-door neighbor, Ms. Arlene, came over to me and said the other firefighters were still in there. I looked up and saw another man coming down the ladder with Bilal. He was carrying him over his shoulders like a rag doll.

  “Is he okay?” Ms. Arlene yelled.

  The fire fighters pushed everyone out of the way, put him in the ambulance and pulled away. Then they grabbed me, Alanna and Bubbles and asked us if anyone else was in the house. Then they put us in the other ambulance. They said they had to check us out at the hospital. We didn’t say anything the entire ride. I think we all were too scared to ask if Bilal was still alive. We would find out in a few minutes when we got to the hospital.

  At the hospital they tried to treat me, but I still wanted to know what
was going on with Bilal. A nice nurse told us he was alive but unconscious. Lana found out what room he was in, so we asked the same nurse if we could see him. She acted like she didn’t hear us but opened the door on the sly. We walked into his room and saw that they had him hooked up to all these machines. Tubes were going up his nose, but at least he was alive. Alanna and Bubbles starting crying. I just wanted to know if he was going to make it and what was wrong with him.

  Chapter 3

  My mom showed up at the hospital about half an hour after we had arrived. She was crying hysterically and smelled like alcohol. I was so mad at her—she was actually slurring when she spoke. We were just fighting for our lives and she was somewhere having a drink. She tried to fix herself up, though it was so obvious that she was out of it. But we all got up and hugged her, and then we started crying. She walked down the hall with all of us attached to her.

  “Where is your brother? Is he okay?” she asked, breaking away from our group hug.

  “They won’t tell us anything. They were waiting on you,” Alanna said.

  My mother went up to one of the nurses coming out of Bilal’s room. “Hello, ma’am, I am Bilal Thomas’s mother. What’s wrong with him?”

  The nurse looked at us. Then she walked my mother into the room. The nurse came out and then brought a group of doctors back with her. Bubbles asked the group of doctors, “What’s wrong with my brother?”

  One of the doctors stopped, kneeled down, and said, “Your brother’s going to be okay. We’re just checking him out, making sure he is one hundred percent before he leaves.” He touched Bubbles on her cheek, smiled at us and walked away.

  My mother came out of the room and told us that he had smoke inhalation and they had to monitor him because his asthma could be affected, but he was not going to die. I went and walked to the bathroom. I felt a little better knowing Bilal was going to be okay. When I came back I saw Bubbles talking to the nurse who had been talking to my mom. I kept coughing. When she saw me she smiled and offered me a ginger ale. She then pulled me to the side.

 

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