ABOVE THE INFLUENCE
End of Week 1
"Guess what Lester asked me at work today?"
"What!"
"He got two tix to Lauryn Hill for next Friday! He asked if I wanted to go..."
"What ya say?"
"I didn't say anything. Well, that I'll think about it."
"Think about it? You must be going loco."
"Y'know trying to get a scholarship is really difficult right now, and I have to concentrate on that."
"Yeah. I know. I'm trying to get one too. Hopefully to a worthy school that doesn't compare to the slumps of Southside."
"Such as?"
"A collage in Queens."
"Hear that. Anyway what do you think I should say?"
"Yes. You should say yes, Steph. You like him don't ya?
"Yeah."
"Then there's your answer."
"'Kay. Listen, since I'll be gone Friday for our movie night, don't be lonely all right?"
"Lonely? I have seven other foster kids to hangout with."
"None your age though."
"Still won't be lonely."
Pause…
"I have to go. Dad's buggin' 'bout the paper we have to do about our ethnicities, and he wants to tell me all 'bout Africa."
"'Kay. Bye then."
"Hey. Don't be lonely."
"Bye." Hanging up my fuzzy purple phone, I lay down on my blue/gold bed quilt. Staring up at the ceiling, I scan over the mural I made. An abstract angel holding on to a little girl, who is praying, while around her is fire. There's firefighters, policeman, and even a horrible monster coming out of a closet.
Man, my head hurts. Getting up, I turn to the small barred window, and stare at the tiny string of Christmas lights I keep up year around. Looking up out the window, a police vehicle passes in a blur. Growing up in Southside, you get used to all the crime activity. I rollover to face my "closet of a room" with all the posters, and pictures stuck to the wall with tacky glue.
"Dinner." Trevor, the second oldest of the foster children, (who's 13) shouts as he opens my door. "Come on Rodriquez." I yawn getting off my bed. I only walk past two other bedrooms, then I'm in our living room. Rosey, Janelle, James and Kurt are playing with marbles on the carpet. I look into our kitchen from what we call "the hole in the wall." Really it's just a big square cut into the wall, so Mamma can see what's happening in the living room.
I look in to see Mamma trying to feed Ryan, while Ashley is throwing cheerios across the plastic card table, that we call a dinning table. I focus back on Mamma. I feel thankful that someone would have the heart to take in eight kids when nobody wanted them. Or at least yet. I'm lucky that I was the first one, and the only one she ever adopted.
When you live in a foster home, you see kids come and go. It's heartbreaking, so you try to not get so attached.
"Ryan, will you just eat the peas?" Mamma sighs as she tries to give them to him. He knocks the spoon out of her hand, which lands with a clang. "Son of a bitch." He launchs into a fit. I walk in, and grab the spoon off the floor.
"Here Mamma. Let me take care of this. You should go lay down."
"Blessed angel." She cups my chin in her hands and gives me a kiss on the forehead. Her curlers fall out of her hair as she moves toward the living room. "I need to talk to you later." Laying down, she pulls her pink bathrobe around her. "Trevor and you have pizza in the microwave." She closes her eyes, immediately falling asleep.
"Stop crying." I pick Ryan up, and start bouncing him on my hip. Opening the microwave, I take out my piece of pizza.
"Stop pulling!" Putting the pizza down on the table, I move his hand away from my ski hat. "Ashley stop throwing cheerios." I mumble as I place Ryan on the counter.
"Your not the boss of me." She sticks out her tongue, and continues to throw.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"Ashley." She sticks her tongue back out. "That's it, come on." Snatching her out of the seat, the bowl of cheerios splatters all over the floor. "Damn it." I kick the bowl, and head out of the kitchen. "Hey marble players, keep an eye on Ryan?"
"Whatever." They grunt.
"Trevor." I yell as he enters his room.
"What?" Taking off his headphones, he stares at the screaming child in my arms.
"Can ya feed Ryan?"
"Feed him what? He ruined all his peas."
"Just feed him little bits of pizza or something."
"Whatever."
"Seriously. Help now!"
"Fine." He squeezes by us, making Ashely almost falling out of my grasp, because she tries grabbing at him. Opening the door to the girls room, I "throw" her in there, then shut the door before she can get to it. "Teach ya some manners." I holler as I lock the door. "Jesus."
It continues all night, the tantrums. I finally get everyone asleep around 11:49; only one person isn't home. Trevor.
"Where's the money?" Someone outside screams words I can't make out. Turning off the T.V. I make my way to the front door. Glancing out the window, some thugs are outside with Trevor. Right away I know what is happening.
"Trevor?" I unlock the door, and run down the stairs, carefully trying not to slip on my flannel pants. "Trevor what the hell?"
"Gwen get back inside."
"What's the prob?" I ask putting an arm around my "brother."
"This punk owes us money. Forty-two in back fees, and twenty in advance." The biggest of the gang holdd out a carpet blade, showing only enough so it glints in the light from the open door way.
"What does he owe ya for?" A shiver runs up my spine.
"Gwen-" He looks down at his feet.
"Shut up Trevor."
"Smack, Speed." "The thug" murmurs as he plays with the blade. I gaze at Trevor, my jaw hanging open for a split second. "Unless you can't pay for it, we'll just have to get it back from him." He comes slowly towards him with the blade. I jump between him and Trevor.
"Hold up, we can work this out."
"We're not into negotiations."
"All right. I'll go get ya sixty-two, just wait."
"You better for his sake."Running up the stairs, I slip a little. Mamma comes out of her room, asking what the ruckus is. I tell her to go back to sleep. Sticking my hand in my bank, I take out all the money I had. Running faster then I ever have, I'm right back downstairs paying the gang.
"Nice doing business with you." They smirk as they get back in their corvette.
"Gwen I-" I glare at him, then look back at the $1.56 I had left in my hand.
"That was collage money Trevor. Collage money. To get away from this." I gesture around the broken misshapen houses. "To actually get an education, and be successful." Trevor looks up at me. Angry tears in his eyes.
"Keep fantasizing. You and about four others, are the only ones who want to make a life despite of this shitty place! People like me can't. 'Cause we aren't that successful."
"Trevor that's not true, you can change. You don't need drugs, or violence to-"
"It's not that. People don't listen."
"I listen."
"No. No you don't. If you were listening, you'd know I've been taking drugs for the past three months." I just gap at him. The words escape my mind, which has stopped in mid air. I drop the rest of the money at his feet, then run to my room, hoping when I wake up, tomorrow would be a change for the better.