Upside Down in the Middle of Nowhere

by Julie T. Lamana

  Sealy did the best she could pushing the boat-cooler, but the ground up under the water was uneven and slick. We looked like we were drunk the way we kept swaying this way and that.

  I was fixin’ to ask Mama how much further when my foot slid into a hole in the ground and went sideways. I stumbled. My face was headed for the nasty water!

  I grabbed hold of the side of the cheap boat-cooler with both hands to keep from falling. A chunk of white Styrofoam broke off and sent the boat-thing into a rocking wobble.

  Khayla squealed and clapped.

  Sealy froze.

  Mama reached for Khayla’s arm too slow.

  Khayla tipped right out into the water, making a plop sound, just like my birthday puppy did when she spun herself off the roof. She went face first into the goo-water-stew. Me, Mama, and Sealy all scrambled at the same time, all but knocking each other down trying to rescue her.

  “Khayla!” Mama shrieked.

  I grabbed hold of one of her flailing arms and yanked fast and hard.

  Lord have mercy. Memaw sighed in my head. Her voice was so clear and real, I turned my head, expecting to see her standing right there next to me. But she wasn’t there. There was no Memaw, no Daddy, and no Georgie, just us—me, Mama, Sealy, forever-wheezin’ Kheelin, and soaked-to-the-bone, lucky-to-be-alive Khayla.

  It was like the cooler had a mind of its own. It dumped my baby sister out, then went right back to sitting as nice as it could be, with Sealy’s book sack tucked all neat and snug at the bottom.

  Khayla coughed and made gagging sounds. The disgusting water spewed from her mouth. A tiny bit even dripped out of her nose. She was flapping her arms like a baby bird fixin’ to fly. I went to remembering the broken bird family in the nest on top of Daddy’s truck. A cold, fast shiver ran from the top of my head to my toes.

  “Khayla, are you okay?” Mama cried. Behind the river of tears and trembling lips, I seen something I thought I’d never see in my mama’s face—the soft around her eyes was gone. Her face was all squished into the side of Khayla’s plump, wet cheek. She was staring at me and not looking at me at the same time. The sight of her fright had me too scared to speak.

  My insides jumped when she took in a big gulp of air and said, “First Georgie, now Khayla?” She squeezed her eyes shut. “This is Henry and Shelton all over again. . . .” Her voice drifted off into a whimper.

  I was nauseous. Whatever was happening, it was nothing like what happened to my dead uncles. Tears fell. I opened my mouth to say sorry, but Mama spoke first.

  “What is wrong with you?” She whispered the hateful words that cut through me like no kind of hurt I’d felt before. Mama ain’t never spit words out at me like she did just then. She glared at me with teary eyes, then just like that, she turned away.

  I stood there blinking with my mouth half open in a “Sorry” that Mama never heard.

  It was my fault that Khayla got dumped in the disease-filled water. I knew all of it was my fault.

  CHAPTER 28

  I struggled to hold on to Kheelin and watched what was left of my family walk on ahead of me while I stood there missing Daddy and Memaw and Georgie. My brother would’ve found some way or other to make me smile. Memaw would’ve understood—she always understood me. And Daddy would’ve known what to do. He’d carry the little ones and take the weight away.

  “Armani, it’s dry!” Sealy happy-hollered.

  Sure enough, I watched Mama set Khayla down on dry concrete. Not a speck of water that I could see. Sealy was staring after me, waving her hand for me to come on.

  I walked to dry land and emptied my boots.

  We walked at least a block before we came around the corner. “Sweet Jesus,” Mama mumbled when she seen the sight waiting there for us. Her words were a perfect way of saying exactly what flew through my mind.

  There were people everywhere. It was like the Super Dome was a giant fire ant hill and all them people around it were the ants. Busy ants, climbing over each other, moving every which way, carrying whatever they could, without leaving their hill—the Dome.

  Me and my brother and sisters all scooched up real close to Mama, barely giving her enough room for her legs to move. Khayla was so tucked up under the back of Mama that sometimes when she took a step, her chubby head would disappear altogether up the bottom of Mama’s dress.

  My mind was reeling. All I could think was that Daddy and Georgie and TayTay had to be in that sea of people somewhere. Thumps of excitement tapped up in my chest. I know I can find you, Daddy. I was determined to find him. Where are you, Daddy? I looked in every direction at the same time. He’d be easy to find—he was tall and handsome and . . .

  There were too many people. My mouth got so dry it made a smack sound every time I opened it. Sweat ran down from the top of my head and got in my eyes. Panic knocked with loud beats up in my head. It was gonna be impossible to find Daddy and Georgie without standing on a fireman’s ladder and shouting at the top of my lungs for the two George Curtises to please raise their hands.

  Mama had the look of understanding too, but she kept on searching every which way but up.

  “Step aside. Coming through,” barked two huge Army guys brushing past us. They were wearing National Guard uniforms like Uncle T-Bone had on when he first got back from Afghanistan, but I don’t remember my uncle carrying around a big ol’ gun like them soldiers. They stopped smack-dab in front of us and set a large cardboard box down. I couldn’t stop staring at the gigantic, real guns.

  “Ma’am?” one of the Army guys said, handing Mama bottles of water. She took them and gave one to each of us kids, keeping one for herself.

  “Thank you,” Mama said, wiping at her dry, puffy eyes. “I need first aid. My son—”

  A woman shoved Mama out of her way. The soldier wasn’t even paying attention to us no more. Him and the other soldier were yelling at all the thirsty people who came running up, crying, pushing, cussing, begging—begging for a bottle of water.

  Sealy took a step toward the stirred-up crowd with her bottle held out like she was fixin’ to give it to someone.

  I yanked her back by her arm.

  “Armani—”

  “Shut up, Sealy” is all I said.

  Mama gathered us up in her arms the best she could and steered us away from the crazies.

  Babies were laid out all over the place. Some sound asleep, some lying on the mushy ground, rolled into little dirty, sweaty balls. Most of them didn’t have on nothing but a diaper. Every time I sucked in even a tiny bit of stale air, it smelled thick with sweat, stinking canal water, and dirty diapers.

  Mamas cradled their children, crying and mumbling. Men walked around with mad looks one minute and holding their own heads in their hands the next.

  I twitched with fright every time someone wailed or hollered out. My whole self was a bundle of nerves. Even my eyes were jumpy.

  We slogged along with Mama, stuck to her like white on rice—never more than an inch from her side.

  Daddy. Georgie. TayTay. Where are y’all? I was so fixed on trying to find them, I didn’t notice the dead woman till I’d already gone and tripped over her.

  She was lying there shoved up to the side of a brick wall like yesterday’s trash. My heart took to racing. The shaking of my body moved the rattle in my head down my arms and settled in my fingers. I tried to reach for my dang boot that had fell off during the act of tripping, but my brain wouldn’t let my wobbly hand reach no further toward the boot on account of the fact that Memaw’s ol’ ugly flowered clodhopper was resting right up in the dead woman’s armpit.

  “Don’t look, Armani! Don’t look!” Sealy slammed into my chest, burying her face and squeezing the life out of me at the same time.

  I patted her on the back. “It’s okay, Sealy. I ain’t lookin’.”

  But the truth is, I couldn’t stop looking. I knew who the person was laying there with flies on her eyes. I knew as soon as I seen that filthy, long, gypsy-looking dress. It was
that woman outside Pete’s with the messed-up dogs.

  I couldn’t move. I think I might’ve stood there like a dummy staring all day long if Mama hadn’t gone and reached up in front of me and snatched the boot, slapping it firm in my hand all in one quick move.

  Mama had the look of nothing on her face. She didn’t look mad, or sad, or scared. She didn’t even look grossed out by having to remove her child’s rubber boot from the armpit of a dead woman. A boot that a few days prior had belonged to her mama, who was now lying up in a hot, wet attic. That’s the only way I know how to describe what I’d seen just then on Mama’s face—the look of nothing.

  I slipped the boot back on and took to walking with my head down, stealing looks into the crowd every couple of steps so that I wouldn’t accidentally pass by Daddy and Georgie or TayTay.

  CHAPTER 29

  I didn’t even hear the whistle-wheeze. But when Mama spun around clutching Kheelin to her chest with that look on her face, I knew it could only mean one thing.

  Mama found us a tiny square of soggy ground and went to arranging us kids like we were lawn furniture.

  She hugged wide-eyed Sealy and gave her a forced smile. She wet her thumb with spit and wiped the corners of Khayla’s mouth. She kissed her on the top of her frizzy head and laid her down on the ground. She went and balled right up like a scared roly-poly. As quick as a lick, she was as snuggled up as a kid can get lying in dirty grass.

  I should’ve been breaking into a panic, ’cause it was clear that something like a good-bye was coming. But instead, I blinked a couple times, trying to keep my eyes from burning, and sucked in gulps of air.

  “Armani,” Mama said, “I’m going to go find help for Kheelin.”

  “But Mama,” Sealy whimpered from somewhere behind me.

  “You all will be fine.” Mama still hadn’t looked me in the eye. “I won’t be long. Khayla needs to rest. I can move faster without . . . and I won’t . . .” Mama cleared her throat. “I won’t be long.” She was talking fast.

  “Please, Mama,” Sealy cried, “please let us come with you.”

  Mama looked at me. “Armani, I need to find help fast. If anything happens to this baby . . .” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head from side to side, biting into her bottom lip.

  I put an arm around Sealy’s shoulder. Right away she went to leaning into me, making it hard for me to keep my balance.

  I followed Mama’s gaze when she opened her eyes and looked at the craziness all around us. Her head dropped.

  Kheelin’s wheeze was loud and rumbly. He was having the kind of attack that would’ve meant calling the ambulance if we’d been at home—before the water came.

  “Mama,” I said, having a hard time breathing myself.

  Mama slowly brought her head up so I could see her face. It was like looking straight into the face of my sweet Memaw. My poor mama’s face had gone and turned into an ol’ lady face. I wanted to reach out and hold her. I wanted her to hold me too.

  The wheezing turned to choking whimpers.

  “I have to go, baby girl,” she said. A tear slid down her cheek.

  “I know, Mama.”

  Part of growing up meant not crying and fussin’ over every little thing. So I sniffed good and strong and let my blurry eyes settle on a smudge on the shoulder of Mama’s dress.

  “Armani,” Mama said, reaching behind her neck to unhook the compass-locket.

  I laid my hand on one of her arms and shook my head. “It’s all right, Mama. Keep it so you can find your way.” I tried to force a smile. A tear found its way into the corner of my mouth. “You can put it on me when y’all get back.” I kissed Kheelin’s pasty forehead. The salt from his skin laid thick on my lips.

  Mama let go of the locket clasp and pulled me in close. She squeezed me as tight as she’s ever done. “I’ll be right back, I promise.” She said the soft words straight into my ear. A burning stabbed at my heart when she said “promise.”

  She turned and took off, zigzagging fast through the people. The crowd swallowed Mama up, and just like that, she was gone.

  CHAPTER 30

  There was no telling how much time had gone by since Mama had left. Didn’t matter one way or the other nohow, ’cause just one minute sitting there in the middle of nowhere like that was one minute too long.

  The smell coming off the earth was rotten. I turned so my nose was close to my shoulder and took in a whiff. A shudder went through me. I smelled like the earth.

  Sealy’s head rested in my lap and I stared out at the sight I still couldn’t believe I was seeing.

  I locked eyes with a kid about my age who was sitting off in the madness by hisself. He had that look I’d seen earlier on Mama’s face—that look of nothing. I was fixin’ to turn away when I seen a girl, a familiar girl.

  TayTay?

  A bolt of energy shot through me.

  “TayTay!” I hollered. I jumped to my feet. Sealy’s head hit the ground and her eyes popped open.

  The girl kept walking, walking like my cousin with that certain bounce that’s all her.

  “TayTay!” I hollered and waved my arms.

  The girl stopped and looked around, but never in my direction. A cry started building in my belly. The girl went to walking again.

  “Is that TayTay?” Sealy asked.

  “I think so!” My heart was racing, my head pounding.

  “TayTay!” me and Sealy hollered at the same time.

  The girl disappeared in the crowd.

  “No!” I cried.

  “Go after her, Armani!”

  I couldn’t stop the tears. “I can’t.”

  Khayla looked up with them big sleepy eyes of hers. She smiled at me.

  “But you have to go after her!” Sealy didn’t understand. If I went after TayTay, I’d have to leave them.

  I rubbed my hand across Khayla’s forehead. She closed her eyes and went back to sleep. Please watch over TayTay, I prayed for my cousin. Let her find Daddy and Georgie.

  I sat back down and let my head flop back so I could stare straight up into the bluest sky I’d ever seen. I realized just then that the only thing the storm hadn’t ruined was that sky—that buttermilk frosting blue sky. A cry got strangled in my throat. How the sky could be so beautiful, shining all its blueness down on so much ugly, wasn’t making a bit of sense to me.

  Something large and dark stepped smack-dab in front of me, instantly blocking out the whole promising clean sky.

  “Hey, aren’t you T-Bone Curtis’s niece?” Hearing my uncle’s name got me to standing.

  The voice belonged to a soldier girl. I recognized the pretty brown face, but I couldn’t remember why or how I knew her. Or why or how she knew me.

  She patted her open hand against her own chest and said “Specialist Salazar” in a voice that reminded me of J.Lo. She seen my eyes fixed on the long gun she had cradled like a baby with her right arm. Real quick she stopped standing stiff as starch and lowered the gun so it was pointing down at the ground. She tilted her head, her eyebrows all but getting lost up under her Army hat. “Stella Salazar. I was with your uncle in Afghanistan.”

  Her eyes shifted from me to wide-eyed Sealy, then to Khayla laid out in the mud-grass, then down to my feet. She frowned. I wanted to explain that they weren’t my boots, but her eyebrows sank over her heavy-hearted eyes, and just then, the boots didn’t much matter.

  “I was at your house a few months ago for the crawfish boil when our unit first got back from overseas.” While she talked, I remembered that day.

  It seemed like the whole Lower Ninth turned out for that Welcome Home crawfish boil. Memaw and Mrs. Tilly had sung praises right over the top of Mr. Jasper Junior Sr.’s jazzy saxophone playing in the middle of our road. That had been a great day. The day the soldiers came home. The day Uncle T-Bone came back in one piece.

  “Hey.” Stella Salazar’s voice snapped me back from remembering. “Your name’s Armani, right?” She smiled when she said my name.
I liked the way she said it, she made it sound pretty. I nodded, wishing I could smile back.

  “I remember your name,” she said, “because that’s the name of my favorite perfume.” I liked her.

  Sealy threw herself into the girl and wrapped her arms around her. “I remember you!” Sealy squealed. “You’re Stella!” They hugged good and tight so long a stranger would’ve thought they was family. Even after the hug ended, my sister kept right on hanging on poor Stella. My arms were too heavy for hugging.

  From somewhere in the belly of the crowd, ear-splitting screams tore through the thick air. Quick pop-pop-pop firecracker-like sounds made my insides twitch.

  Stella’s smile fell right off her face. “Where are your parents?”

  Sealy’s eyes filled with tears. I swallowed hard and tried to open my mouth to speak, but my lips wouldn’t separate. I wondered if Stella could feel Sealy wiping her nose on her Army shirt.

  Stella reached down and unbuttoned a long pocket on her pants. She pulled out a bottle of Coke and handed it to me. I forgot all about the times Mama had drilled it into my head about not sharing on account of not knowing exactly where another person’s mouth has been.

  After me and Sealy took some sips, I offered the bottle back to Stella. She waved her hand in a way that told me she didn’t want the bottle back, most likely ’cause her mama taught her the same rule about germs.

  Stella was fidgety. “Tell me where your ma—”

  Somehow I got all folded up in Stella’s strong arms where I cried harder than I thought possible, and blubbered on and on about my missing family. Stella kept saying, “Shh, shh, it’s okay, I know, I know,” and then some words in Spanish I didn’t understand. She sniffled a couple times before she bent down on one knee in front of me. She tipped my chin up with her finger. My eyelids were heavy and tired.

  “How long has your mama been gone, Armani?” She said the words soft and quiet, like we were sharing a secret.