All I Want is Everything
Page 5
“Come upstairs,” John yelled.
Everything in the living room was destroyed. The steps were just about gone. John took a few things out of his room that weren’t damaged.
The whole ordeal of coming back to the house that I’d lived in my entire life and seeing it basically gone was so devastating that I got depressed. After we left we went to the Laundromat and washed the clothes.
Chapter 4
Ms. Waters was starting to get on my nerves. I had been in her house for two weeks and hated every moment of it. She made us do chores. I had to clean the kitchen and bathroom. Bilal’s job was watering the plants and putting the toys back. And Bubbles had to vacuum.
“So what time you get out of school? Do you have to work today?” she asked.
When the fuck I get out, I mumbled under my breath. Don’t try to clock me, I thought. I wished I could go home. But right then, even if they didn’t make us stay there, where else could I go? Right then there was no home, my mother didn’t have any family, Aunt Joanie said she didn’t have any room, and my dad had not tried to come for us.
My mom showed up late to the court hearing, so it got rescheduled for the following week. I hadn’t really been talking to her. Every time I called Aunt Joanie she said that Mom wasn’t there. Ms. Norton hadn’t really been riding me as much as she did in the beginning. She only checked on us once a week. Alanna was going on with her regular life. The fire hadn’t affected her at all. She was just happy that she got to live with her boyfriend. John met me after school almost every day and had been checking up on us.
School was going okay. My grades had come up a little and I had been trying to just make it through. I called my aunt’s house to see if my mom was there.
“Hi, Aunt Joanie. Is my mom there?”
“Hey, baby, you okay? You don’t sound so good.”
“Yes, I’m okay. Where my mom at?”
“Um, she is not here. Your mother need to get herself together. You know she lost her job. I’m sorry, but I put her out.”
“Why you do that?” I screamed.
“Kendra, your mother has lost her house, her kids, her job and she still wants to drink, and I just think that there has to be some intervention.”
“So you just put her out?” I screamed.
“Yes, well, I offered her to go to counseling and she was like she hadn’t been drinking, but she smelled like an old drunk man. I’m sorry, Kendra. She needs a reality check. My brother told me not to even let her in and I went against him. I’m still here for you and the children. How are they?”
“Bubbles and Bilal and me are still with our foster mom, and Alanna is with her boyfriend. Your brother hasn’t even checked on us,” I said, not bothering to hide the disgust in my voice. “Aunt Joanie, I have to go. Can you give my mom this number if she comes back?”
“Okay, you take care of yourself.”
I hadn’t called my dad in a couple of weeks, but I was going to try him one last time.
“Daddy, do you think you can get us?” I blurted out as soon as I heard his voice.
“No! You know Charlotte ain’t going for all three of y’all,” he said with an attitude.
“I can stay with Aunt Joanie. Can you just take Bubbles and Bilal?”
“I can’t do it. I would have to take off of work, and anyway y’all be all right. Y’all fine where y’all at.”
I couldn’t believe my dad. I wasn’t going to beg him. I just hung up on him.
I went to Ms. Waters’s house and thankfully she wasn’t home yet, so I had a moment to breathe. I sat on the sofa and watched television. I figured if she came in and questioned my television watching, I’d tell her I already finished my homework. A little while later the phone rang. It was probably one of Ms. Waters’s church members. She wanted us to answer the phone “Praise the Lord,” but I just answered, “Hello?”
“Kendra?”
“Mom!”
“Yes, how are you. How are the kids? I’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Mom, are you okay? Aunt Joanie said you not staying with her.”
“Yeah, Joanie kicked me out, so I’ve been staying at the shelter.”
“A shelter? Oh my God.”
“Kendra, it is not that bad.”
“Where are you now?”
“I’m at a phone booth on Market Street, downtown.”
“Stay right there. I’m going to meet you.” As soon as I said that Ms. Waters came walking in the door with a big white fur hat on and a black wool coat.
“And where are you going?” she said as she noticed me putting on my coat.
“I’m going to meet up with my friend Chantel at the mall.”
“Well, you know curfew is at nine.”
“I know. Did you need me to pick you up anything?” I asked.
“No, just make sure you here by curfew.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I went outside and was trying to figure the best way to hurry up and get downtown. The bus wasn’t coming, so I started walking. The wind was just about picking me up. I walked four blocks to the subway. I was supposed to meet my mom at City Hall at the big four-story sculpture that everyone called the Clothes Pin. As soon as I saw my mom I gave her a long hug and started crying. I hadn’t seen her since the hospital. She looked like she had been beat down. Her eyes had dark rings around them and she looked like she’d lost about fifteen pounds—her clothes were hanging off her slightly. She carried two filled white plastic grocery bags with faded red “Thank You’s.”
“Mom, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Y’all deserve better. Y’all good kids. I just feel like I really messed up this time,” she said as she shook her head and wiped away tears.
“Mom, it’s okay. We are going to get through this,” I said as I comforted her and we begin walking. I took her bags from her.
“I know we will. But you know, Kendra, it’s just one thing after the other. How is that lady? Is she is nice? Is she treating my babies good?”
“She’s nice.” I could look at my mom and see that she needed some serious rest. She needed to relax, take a shower and get her head together. The only place I could think of going was Alanna’s house. She and Bruce lived in an apartment on Lions Road in Northeast Philly, and I knew he wouldn’t be there because he was working.
“Mommy, let’s go to Lana’s house.” We had to catch the El, the aboveground train, and then the 3 bus. It took us about an hour and a half to get there. I knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” Alanna said.
“It’s me and Mommy.”
“What are y’all doing here?” she asked as she opened the door. She invited us in and we all had a seat.
“Mommy, you want something to drink? You look a mess,” Alanna said. My mother stood up, looked in the mirror and patted her hair down. I walked Alanna into her kitchen. “Alanna, why would you tell Mommy she looks bad?”
“Because she does. You don’t look that great yourself. What time is your curfew?” she asked.
“Nine.”
“It’s like seven. You better get home,” she said, looking at her watch. I pulled her to the side and whispered, “Look at Mommy. She was crying and I couldn’t leave her. She needs to rest and get herself together.”
“So, what, you just going to show up at my door? What am I supposed to do?”
“Mommy, you okay?” she yelled to my mother, who was still sitting in the living room.
“Yes. I’m fine,” my mother answered.
“See? She’s okay.”
“No, she is not! She needs a bath and she needs to get some rest. Can she stay here? Auntie Joanie kicked her out. It is cold outside, and I don’t want Mommy out there by herself. You know she has been staying at a shelter.”
“Bruce will flip if he comes home and he sees her here. Y’all cannot mess up my situation.”
“Alanna, but she don’t have anywhere to go,” I said stressing how important this was.
Alanna walked back in the living room. “Mom, you know Kendra needs to go back home, so y’all better get out of here,” Alanna said as she handed her a glass of juice.
“Alanna, please don’t do this,” I begged.
“Look, I don’t have anything to do with it. You have to go.” I wanted to fight her. I wanted to pull her hair out. How could she be so evil to her own mother? I tried one last time to reason with her before we walked out the door. “Can Mommy please stay here with you?”
“No, she can’t stay here. She don’t want anything with her life.”
My mother drank the rest of her juice, then hugged Alanna and followed me out the door. I didn’t say anything to my mom as we left her building.
“There’s something wrong with that child,” my mother said as we walked toward the bus stop. I nodded but didn’t say anything, I was too mad. I didn’t have a plan, but I knew we should go back downtown where we had met. That would give me at least an hour to get my thoughts together.
As we exited the El I figured that I would go home, call my Aunt Joanie and beg her to let my mom come back. It was so cold out and the city streets were becoming empty. The only people out were homeless men and people waiting at the bus stop trying to get home. I had to start going home—and I only had about half an hour to make it. I tried to leave my mother but I couldn’t. I gave her a hug and she just broke down crying. Tears began flowing down her face.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do. Please don’t leave me. You all I got,” my mother cried as she clung to me.
“Mommy, I’m not going to leave you alone. I don’t know where we going to go, but I promise I won’t leave you.”
“You can go with me to the shelter.”
I didn’t want to go with her, but there weren’t really any other options.
“I’ll stay with you at the shelter,” I said.
We went to the Salvation Army at Broad and Fairmount Street. It was a big two-story building, six houses long. When we arrived an older black woman sitting at a desk asked me to fill out all these forms. “This my next to oldest daughter,” my mother proudly told the lady. The woman asked my mom to sign me in and asked if I was under eighteen.
“Yes,” my mother said as gave me a long glance. “She’s going to stay with me.”
The first thing I noticed when I walked in was that it was loud and crowded. I followed my mom to a lady who was giving out blankets and pillows. From there we went and found two cots next to each other. There was a girl next to me who looked like she was my age with two kids. Her baby was crying loud. Her face was chubby and like she had seen it all and been through hell. I looked around, and there were cots everywhere. I didn’t know people had it so bad. There was an elderly white woman with matted hair and five shopping bags setting up her bed. My mother said people steal and told me to take my shoes off and put them under me. I felt so uncomfortable. We didn’t belong here.
I could not close my eyes. This place was not home and it did not feel safe. This old lady kept coughing like she had a piece of something stuck in her throat. It was awful. It was a hacking cough that made my ears hurt. I couldn’t sleep. I looked over at my mother as she slept innocently. I felt so sorry for her. She was raising five kids on her own and the world was attacking her at every angle. I wish we had some family. My mother didn’t deserve this. This was what she got for trying to be a strong woman. This was my dad’s fault. I hate him.
I put my jacket over my head and closed my eyes. I tried to come up with some ideas, something to get us out of this situation.
“Come on. It’s time to go. You can’t sleep past seven-thirty in the shelter,” my mother said, waking me up as she shaking me. I took my coat off my head, got up and went to the bathroom. I washed my face, and I wanted to take a long, hot shower, but I didn’t like the way the bathroom looked. So I just washed a little in the sink.
“You have money on you?” my mother asked me when we got outside.
“A few dollars,” I said.
“Let’s go get some breakfast.”
We headed to the McDonald’s at Broad and Arch, one block from where we met the night before. It was in the middle of downtown. People were on their way to work. There were women speed walking in nice suits and sneakers, and men with briefcases walking to their offices. In the middle of the street a police officer was directing traffic. We walked into McDonald’s and my mother ordered coffee and a bacon and egg sandwich. I didn’t have an appetite. All I could think about was how fucked up we were and that Ms. Waters probably called Ms. Norton on me and I was going to get sent away. My mom got her food and we located a seat in the back.
As soon as my mother sat down I looked her directly in her eyes and said, “Mom, we have to do something. Lana is not going to let us stay with her. And we need a house. We need our own space.” I wanted to choose my next couple of words carefully. “Mom you can’t stay at the shelter, and you have to get yourself together.”
“I know. I know,” she said, nodding.
“So the first thing is, Mom, you have to get some help.”
“You’re right. I was thinking about that. Where could I go? Who could help us out of this mess?”
“What about Ms. Arlene? I know she can help us. Let’s go down to her office.”
“I don’t know where exactly the office is.”
I suggested we call information, so I cleared the table, put her trash in the can, and stepped back out into the cold. The library was the only place that was safe and warm where we could stay all day. They would have the Yellow Pages and I could find my mom help.
When we got there I looked in the Yellow Pages for state representative Alonzo Parker’s office. Ms. Arlene picked up the phone.
“Ms. Arlene, this is Kendra from across the street.”
“How you doing, baby? Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m fine. I was calling to ask if you knew where my mom could get help.”
She put me on hold, then came back to the telephone and said, “Call this number and she should be able to get help. As soon as she get clean she can get grants and stuff for housing. She has to go into rehab first, though.” Ms. Arlene told me not to worry about insurance or any of that and that Horizon House would set her up with everything. She said my mom would have to talk to an intake counselor.
The Horizon House was a regular-looking building on a residential block. The only thing that made it appear different was that it had a heavy metal door and an intercom system at the front door and no window. My mother pushed the bell. She didn’t seem a bit nervous about coming. She knew it was time.
An older thin black man with a bald head came to the door.
“May I help you?”
“I’m here to get some information about getting some help,” my mother said.
“Okay, come on in, have a seat. I’m Mr. Matthews.”
We walked in and found ourselves in a waiting room outside a small office. He went to a filing cabinet and pulled out some forms. He asked my mother for identification and he made copies of it. He asked her what kind of treatment she was looking for. My mother looked at me, then at the ground, and said, “I need help with my drinking.”
She filled out the forms and then she whispered, “I’m going to put down that you’re my next of kin.” She handed her paperwork back to the man and then he asked her to come with him. She followed him through a narrow room into a little office. I looked around. The phone was ringing and there were posters and flyers over the desk about substance abuse. A big sign read REBUILD, RENEW, REWARD, RECLAIM YOUR LIFE.
I picked up a few of the flyers and began reading them. The man, Mr. Matthews, opened the office door and waved his hand for me to follow him. He brought me in the room, sat me down and said, “Your mot
her wanted you to be present. She’ll be entering our program today.”
“Today?” I asked as I looked over at my mother.
“We don’t send people away when they are ready. We are funded by the state and private donations, so don’t worry about insurance. Our program lasts for sixty days. She’s gonna need seven days’ worth of clothes. She is not allowed any products that contain alcohol. No mouthwash and no rubbing alcohol. There is a seven-day blackout. Once she is in she cannot talk or have visitors for seven days. After those seven days she can have visitors on Sundays from one to four.”
“You ready ’cause once you walk through the doors you here,” Mr. Matthews asked my mother.
“Mom”—I looked at her—“you going to do this?”
“Yes. I’m ready.”
I gave her a hug and told Mr. Matthews gave me a list I told him would be back. I had only forty dollars and that wasn’t enough to buy what she needed. I had to call John to take me to get her clothes and the rest of her supplies.
“Mommy checked herself into counseling, but she needs some stuff.”
“Like what?” John asked.
“She need a—” Before I could complete my sentence I was interrupted by a recording requesting me to put another thirty-five cents in the pay phone. I dug in my pockets but I didn’t have any more change.