Sunshine & Rain

by Dawn Desiree

  Sunshine rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Yes, and I believe my Prince Charming awaits me in your kitchen, if my nostrils serve me right. And he smells like a loaf baking in the oven.”

  Both ladies laughed at themselves and their silly sense of humor.

  ‘’That would be correct, princess,” Cathy said. “Now let’s go devour the prince. Let’s eat!”

  Sunshine followed Cathy downstairs to the kitchen, where the scent of dinner was now in full effect. The dining room table was divinely set for two. Sunshine noticed that Cathy had even made the atmosphere soft and cozy by lighting a scented candle. The entire spread was impressive.

  “Is all this for me, or do you have a hot date?” Sunshine asked.

  “This is for us,” Cathy boasted. “I figured that since this is your first night here, I would like for us to comfortably get to know each other. I know this is a hard time for you, and I just want to be there for you, if you don’t mind. We can just sit back, eat good, and get to know each other.”

  Sunshine sat down while Cathy prepared their plates.

  “Well, let me start off by telling you a little bit about myself first, and some things I expect from you. Not much, just some basic house rules. Once I’m done, I’ll pass the mic to you, and it’s all yours,” Cathy said, initiating the conversation. “If I bore you, just grin and bear it. You know, pretend you’re interested, so I won’t feel so dreadfully old and dull. However, if I do interest you, that means I definitely have to get you out more.”

  Sunshine giggled and was already amused by the way Cathy carried herself.

  When Cathy finally sat down, she reached for Sunshine’s hands so they could bless the food together.

  “Heavenly Father, thank you for this food. Please bless it in our bodies, and please put it in all the right places. Amen.”

  Sunshine observed how dignified Cathy looked as she ate her meatloaf, gracefully using her knife and fork. Not once did she show the food in her mouth when she spoke.

  “I have one biological son of my own. Right now, he’s in Miami staying with his father for the summer. I made the decision to become a foster mother because I was raised by a foster mother. I saw how much she enjoyed helping children in need, and that’s what motivated me.

  “My mother is gone now; she died from breast cancer when I was twenty years old. I’m thirty-eight years old now. I use to be married, but I’m not anymore, and that’s by choice. I ain’t found a man who can handle me yet.

  “People tell me I have an urban soul. I love children, and I have been a single foster mother going on eight years. You are the only foster child living with me for now. I have two extra bedrooms upstairs prepared, so you might get some company if a worker decides to place another child here with us. And for the record, I don’t play that favoritism mess.” Cathy continued eating gracefully while she spoke.

  “Let me see . . . what else? Oh, my rules are simple and sweet. I know you’re not a little girl, so I’ll be lenient with you. I will give you a To Do list for chores around the house. I promise not to be a slave driver. You’ll mainly only be responsible for your bedroom, the bathroom in your room, and the dishes, which you only have to place in the dishwasher. I really don’t like nobody cleaning up my house. That way things are always where they are supposed to be.”

  Sunshine let out a small laugh.

  “Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?” Cathy asked. “Well, let me tell you. I’ve been called a compulsive neat freak by some of my best buddies. They only say that because the way they livin’ is so trifling. They’ll come over here and treat my living room like their own personal trash bin, leaving belongings everywhere like it ain’t nothing. I find myself exhausted by the end of their visit, because I’m constantly picking up behind them as if they were my kids. You wouldn’t believe how messy grown folks can be. They’re worse than y’all,” Cathy added.

  Sunshine didn’t say a word while Cathy rambled on. She just shook her head when she needed to show that she was keeping up, trying not to be rude. Truthfully, though, she was paying more attention to the tasty food on her plate than she was to the conversation. Sunshine attacked her food like a wild animal devouring its prey. She couldn’t help it. Dinner tasted better than any meal she’d ever eaten at any restaurant.

  “Help yourself to more, sweetheart,” Cathy said. While Cathy continued on about enrolling Sunshine into the local high school and summer jobs, Sunshine stood up to load a second helping onto her plate.

  “Okay, with that all being said, is there anything you would like to ask me?”

  Sunshine thought for a brief moment while she dug into her second helping of meatloaf, using just her fork.

  “How long can I live with you?” she asked.

  “If things go right, you’ll live with me until you turn eighteen, which is only a few years from now. Once you’re eighteen, Social Services expects you to be in a position to take care of yourself. They offer an independent living program through which they’ll help you pay your rent and utilities in your own apartment.”

  Sunshine stopped chewing. “My own apartment! Picture that,” Sunshine said excitedly.

  “I can picture it,” Cathy stated, “and it’s a bright, clear picture, too. Now, tell me some things about yourself, Sunshine.”

  “Well,” Sunshine began, “I’m fifteen years old, and I’m currently in the tenth grade. I’m from Washington, D.C.”

  “Hold up. Hold up,” Cathy interrupted. “You don’t have to speak to me as if you’re on a job interview. This is your home, baby. Relax and tell me the juicy stuff.”

  Sunshine smirked, half embarrassed, as if she had something to hide. “Well, I’m not sure what it is you want to know. I don’t have much to tell. As you already know, my mother died yesterday. She was only thirty years old. She died from AIDS. She had been living with the disease for over twelve years, almost my entire life. She didn’t bother to tell me about it until late last year. By then, it was obvious, but I wanted to hear it come from her.

  “My mother was all the family I had and all I needed. I don’t know my grandparents, but I think they live in Upstate New York somewhere. My father was just a sperm donor whose only concern was to do what it took to get me in this world. I heard he was a player and dated lots of different women. After he sexed my mother and got her pregnant with me, he didn’t bother keeping in contact with her. As far as I know, he doesn’t even know that I exist,” she said.

  “And I don’t have a whole lot of friends,” Sunshine added.

  Cathy interrupted her again. “I find that very hard to believe. I was under the impression that you were the outgoing type, the head of every clique.”

  Sunshine gave Cathy a soft, pathetic look. “Far from it,” Sunshine continued. “I’m pretty much a stay-to-myself type of girl. Most of the girls I went to school with weren’t into the same things that I’m into. They are into clothes, gossiping, boys, and partying: all the things that I don’t care for—well, except for clothes, but it’s not a life-or-death situation if I can’t get the latest Dior dress or the new Jordans.”

  “That’s very interesting. Different, but interesting. What kinds of things are you into?” Cathy asked curiously.

  “My favorite things to do are read, sing, and write poetry,” Sunshine answered proudly.

  Cathy was amazed, to say the least, by this young girl. Sunshine had endured a lot of mental trauma at such a young age, more than any girl should experience, yet she managed to keep her pretty little head up.

  “Not much to tell! Hmmph! I don’t think I could handle what you’d consider a lot. May I hear one of your poems?” she asked.

  Sunshine wasn’t shy when it came to reciting her poetry. Ayanna used to enjoy listening to her, as Sunshine would read her writing to her mother all the time. She was more than happy to oblige Cathy.

  She wiped away any food crumbs from the sides of her mouth with her napkin. Then, she sat up tall in her chair, as if she had an audience of
a thousand people awaiting her. When she spoke, her words flowed in a smooth, soft rhythm:

  “I’d rather not be born rich, but poor; For the riches of a dream mean so much more. When you strive to achieve the goals way beyond your reach; And all of your efforts eventually come to be. For you worked so hard to receive; The true riches you deserved from the very beginning.” She smiled at Cathy and said, “I hope that’s not too deep.”

  Cathy’s jaw fell to the floor. Sunshine even thought she spotted two cavities. “Wow! You go, girl! Are those your own thoughts and your own words?” she asked.

  “Yes, my very own,” Sunshine answered proudly.

  “You have a special gift, Sunshine. At such a young age, your work is so profound. You may very well be the next Emily Dickinson.”

  Sunshine shook her head. “No, thank you. My dream is to become a top-of-the-charts music producer. Besides, Emily Dickinson’s poetry didn’t get noticed by anyone until after her death. I’m still alive and kicking,” Sunshine reminded her.

  ‘Well, go ’head, girl. You’ve got the drive and ambition, and obviously the right mind for it. I’ll tell you what,” Cathy said. “Once you finish school, I’ll see what I can do to get you to follow your dream, if that’s what you want to do.” Cathy had a good feeling about Sunshine. She had never offered any of her children tuition for college before.

  “Now, if you’re done with that plate, I have the world’s best gourmet dessert prepared for us.”

  Sunshine rubbed her belly. “Ooh, what is it?”

  “Root beer floats!” Cathy announced.

  TWO

  Rain was surprised to notice that her father’s bedroom door was still closed when she woke up the next morning. Boom! Boom! Boom! She banged on his door as if she were the law.

  “Daddy! Daddy! Wake up. It’s eleven o’clock and you’re late for work!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Boom! Boom! Boom! Rain knew he was still inside because his radio was playing. He would never leave anything electric on intentionally. He was always crying about the bill. Rain felt like they lived in a deep, dark cave sometimes when all the lights were off inside the apartment at night.

  Maybe he took off work today, she thought, probably a hangover from being high all night.

  Rain started into the kitchen to make breakfast. Opening the refrigerator, she was disappointed to see that all the eggs and milk were gone.

  “Shit! I forgot to go to the grocery yesterday.” She began searching inside the cabinets to see if there was something she could whip up real quick.

  As she opened the worn wooden doors, roaches fell onto the counter and began scurrying, trying to make a fast getaway before crawling safely into their new hideout. Rain stomped her foot hard on one huge bug that was unfortunate enough to miss the counter and landed too close to her foot. She smashed it until it was stuck to the bottom of her flip-flop. Rain took the shoe off and banged it against the kitchen sink until the flat, dead insect fell into it.

  “Yuck!” she spat. She quickly washed her hands and went back to search for anything they could eat. She reached into the cabinet and pulled out some oatmeal.

  “Nothing like some good ol’ hot, sticky oatmeal on a hot, sticky morning.”

  As she poured warm water into the pot to boil, the telephone rang. She placed the pot on the burner and started the fire, taking her time moving toward the phone.

  It probably isn’t nobody anyway.

  Finally, she answered the phone on its fifth ring. “Hello!” Rain shouted loudly into the phone.

  “Good morning,” a pleasant voice began, “This is Bernard Smith, and I’m calling to speak to Jim Concise.”

  “Bernard Smith, who?” Rain asked boldly.

  “I’m his supervisor at Smith & Company, and Jim didn’t report to work today.”

  Rain straightened up her demeanor real quick. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Smith. I thought you were one of those telemarketers. My dad’s not feeling well,” Rain lied. “He tried calling in earlier, but he said that he didn’t get an answer. He took his medication, and it makes him real drowsy. I’ll have him call you when he wakes up,” she said.

  Rain hung up the phone. She began to feel butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Something wasn’t right. She contemplated getting a butter knife and using it to unlock Jim’s door to check on him.

  On second thought, he’s probably just in a deep sleep. She would let him rest.

  Rain continued with breakfast. She turned on the clock radio that sat atop the refrigerator, and hummed along with Mary J. Blige’s tune. She thought about Terrance as Mary sang “Real Love.”

  Terrance was the neighborhood small-time dealer who lived two buildings down from Rain. He rocked fresh, long cornrows, caramel skin, and a midnight blue Crown Victoria that rode on spinning wheels. He was hot!

  Rain reminisced about the other night when Terrance had picked her up and took her out to eat at Checkers. She giggled aloud when she thought about how she sucked him dry while they were in the drive-through line. He wanted to take her to the hotel afterward and go all the way, but Rain was too afraid for all that.

  She had never actually made love before. She liked fooling around, though. She had already kissed and rubbed on four boys and three girls. She liked being with girls, but she enjoyed boys a lot better. Girls were whiny and foolish, while boys were thorough with money.

  “Jody! Jerome! Come and eat!” Rain yelled loud enough to invite the neighbors to breakfast. The boys ran downstairs sounding just like a herd of hungry elephants.

  “Stop stomping! Daddy is trying to sleep!” she screamed.

  At the command of their big sister, the sound of their footsteps quickly changed into those of mice. After all was quiet, Rain ran upstairs to shower while her brothers ate. She didn’t like to eat breakfast, especially not nasty oatmeal. Her father always referred to oatmeal as jail food for jailbirds, and he’d been in enough times to know.

  Rain turned on the radio inside the bathroom, damn near blasting the music. Every room she entered had to have tunes. She locked herself in the bathroom so neither one of her playful brothers would barge in.

  While she waited for the shower temperature to warm to her liking, Rain pinned her shoulder-length hair in a bun, admiring her budding body in the mirror. She appreciated her deep-set curves, voluptuous breasts, and her phat-to-def J. Lo ass that God had blessed her with. Her body was shapelier than some grown women out there who she observed in the streets. Grown men even noticed and were always eager to get her attention. Too bad for them that Rain wasn’t into old meat; she liked her meat fresh, like Terrance’s, and one day when she was ready, she would give him some.

  The steam from the shower blurred her vision. She hopped into the shower and began singing every song that played while she bathed. Showering was always time-consuming for Rain. Once she was behind the closed door, everyone in the house knew it would be a good thirty minutes or more before they could get in. They would make sure they used it before the lady of the house took over.

  Rain would wash her body repeatedly, using different fragranced soaps each time. She loved the smell of all her favorite soft soaps mixed together. If they sold it in a bottle like that, she would be the envy of all girls.

  Rain was so caught up in her bathtime boogie that she could barely hear the loud banging on the bathroom door. At first it sounded like it was part of the song, but as she strained to listen, she could tell that it was Jerome trying to get her attention. Rain pulled back the shower curtain and reached for the radio to turn down the music.

  “What?” Rain yelled.

  “Rain, open the door. Daddy’s bed! Daddy’s bed!” Jerome screamed.

  “Daddy’s what?” she yelled, irritated. She didn’t want her father to wake up and be upset by their yelling match, so she got out of the shower, covering herself carefully with her towel. She pulled the bathroom door open to see what all the fuss was about this time.

  “What is it?”
she asked Jerome

  “Daddy’s dead! Rain, he’s dead!” Jerome was hysterical, grabbing and pulling on Rain.

  “Calm down, Jerome. What do you mean, Daddy’s dead?” She trembled, confused and bewildered by her brother’s words.

  Jerome grabbed Rain by the hand and dragged her down the steps. Jody sat at the bottom of the steps, shocked and pale. Jerome didn’t stop; he pulled Rain past Jody and hauled ass to Jim’s room.

  “Jody told me to do it!” Jerome cried.

  “What did Jody tell you to do? Why on earth is he just sitting on the steps looking all crazy like that?” Rain asked, still confused.

  Jerome continued on with his plea. “Jody told me to use the butter knife and sneak into Daddy’s room to get him a nasty book and . . .” Jerome shook his finger in the direction of their father, who lay slumped over and lifeless on the floor, blue in the face.

  Rain could feel her own blood dry up, and she suddenly felt dizzy. She didn’t feel her head fall backward, pulling the rest of her body to the ground.

  * * *

  When Rain came to, she was no longer wrapped in her bath towel. Someone had dressed her, and a uniformed man was dabbing a cold, wet rag all over her face. Her vision was blurry at first, but once she saw that the man was a paramedic, she realized what had happened.

  “Stay calm, ma’am. You’re okay,” the gentleman reassured her. “You just fainted. You’ll be okay in a few minutes.”

  Rain looked around and saw cops and detectives everywhere. Please let this be a bad dream. She saw Jody and Jerome sitting on the couch, being comforted by one of the officers. Wake up, Rain. This is not real.

  “Are you able to stand?” the gentleman asked. Rain gazed sadly into the eyes of the paramedic as the truth started to sink in. She slowly pushed her body upward to stand, as two officers helped her walk to the couch, close to her brothers.

  “Where is my father?” Rain asked, ready to hear the truth be told.

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, baby girl, but they have taken your father’s body down to the city morgue. It appears that he died from a serious drug overdose.” It all made sense to her now: her father’s locked bedroom door, his silent response to her calling, his not showing up for work. Life had taken its toll on Jim Concise. He had finally escaped from his self-inflicted pain and guilt.