Ramelle
RECOMMENDATION: LISTEN TO “FOOTPRINTS” BY T.O.K
Moms was bugging again.
I came home from school and there wasn’t shit to eat in the crib. Funny enough, when I left out for school there wasn’t shit to eat, either. When I knocked on the door and told her, she promised she would go food shopping and have food when I came home.
That was seven hours ago.
When I walked into the apartment, she was still in her bedroom, and the stale french toast from over the weekend was still on the coffee table. The only thing different on the coffee table was a key fob and a pack of cigarettes. Which meant my father was home and didn’t bother to clean up.
Knowing him, he came through the door, tossed his stuff on the coffee table and climbed right between mama’s legs.
They were never quiet whenever he finally came home.
I usually tossed on headphones to drown out the sounds of her moans and his grunting.
It never lasted long before they both were quiet and remained in the room for the rest of the day.
Leaving me to fend for myself.
I had half the mind to catch the bus over to Granny’s house to get some food.
It was Friday, so I should have headed over there.
The air conditioning worked and there was always food.
Gran never asked for anything, other than grabbing her the things she needed from the store.
It was rare that she left the house these days, so she always had me grab the things she wanted.
After I did that, I was free to play my PlayStation she had bought me.
She refused to allow me to bring it back home because she was scared my parents would sell it.
Whenever I got hungry, there was always food in the fridge, or I would walk down to the Chinese restaurant and grab me some chicken wings and fries.
I always called home the darkness and the light was at Gran’s house. At home, I felt like I was just there. Nobody checked in on me and I was expected to do everything on my own. I was self-sufficient, but I wanted my mom at times, too.
It would be nice to wake up to breakfast before school or come home to an afterschool nap. Instead, I woke up with my stomach on empty and came home the same way. There was never any money around for me, and the cabinets and fridge were always empty.
I couldn’t understand why she wanted to live this way.
Every weekend the house turned into a party.
People were in and out while she was riding the wave of being high.
The only time she had a problem was when the drugs were gone.
That was when she became active and made all these promises of us going back to Granny’s house and doing better.
That was short lived because soon as he came in with her medicine, she was back on him, and we never left.
Our family started to suffer because of her decisions. We stopped going over to Granny’s house for Sunday dinner, and we never spent the holidays with our family. Ken would pull up to my school and make sure I had money for new clothes, sneakers, and whatever I needed.
Ken always made me promise not to tell my mother that I had money. She would take the money and swear she was saving it, knowing she was using it to get high. I wanted my family to be back to normal, but I also knew that wouldn’t happen as long as my mother prioritized her high over our family.
Things weren’t the same because Goo was locked up. Had he been home, he would have tried to make mom better. He was the only one that stayed on her, and with him gone, all he could do was make threats over the phone. Ken tried, but he didn’t have as much patience for mom’s bullshit as Goo did.
My father talked big shit because Goo was behind bars. He knew had he been home that he wouldn’t have all that mouth. I hated the way he spoke to my mom and forced her to believe our family didn’t care about her. The part that sucked was that she actually believed it.
All the things our family did for her went out the window because of what my father programmed into her head. I was tired of always trying to get her to remember the good that our family did for us.
When my father left for weeks at a time, it was Ken who went and bought us food. He paid bills that weren’t his and looked out for us. She never remembered the good things, only the part where they wanted her to get clean.
I wanted her to get clean.
I’ve only ever known a mother that used medicine. When I was younger, she was able to really hide it because I didn’t understand. As a teenager, I understood everything and I just wanted her to stop.
I wanted my mom.
“There’s never anything to eat in this fucking house.” I slammed the cabinet closed, and opened the fridge, knowing there wasn’t shit in there, either. “Been gone all day and there’s no fucking food.”
I heard the door from one of the backrooms creak, and assumed it was my mother. Only time she got up was to use the bathroom, or come into the living room where it was cooler.
“Aye, I know you better watch your mouth in my house,” my father barked, as I rounded the corner.
His pants were unbuckled, as he went into the kitchen and looked in the same empty ass cabinets.
“Be a man and take care of home and you wouldn’t have to hear my mouth.”
He stopped examining the empty cabinets and looked at me. “You really been smelling yourself since you got some height and those balls started to hang.”
I hardly spoke to my father.
He was never here and whenever he was, he came for one thing and then he was gone again. I don’t know how many times the landlord had beat on this door for late rent. It was always Ken who paid the rent and made sure we had a roof over our heads.
“All you worried about is getting her high and fucking. Not about putting food in here or cleaning this shit up.” My heart was pounding inside my chest, and I was nervous.
I tried my best to avoid my father and conflict. My mom did the same, never pushing him or wanting to create problems with him. The shit irritated me because he deserved nothing but that.
He closed the cabinet and came out the kitchen, walking over toward me. We were eye to eye, and in a few months, I would eventually pass him in height. “You really think you about some shit. You let your cousin put shit in your head.” He mushed my head, and I slapped his arm.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” I raised my voice.
The backroom door creaked again. “Aye, aye, what is going on?” my mother’s soft voice greeted us before she did.
“You teaching this boy to be reckless with his father. Where the fuck is the respect, Inez?”
I looked at my mother, her hair matted to one side, and drool or cum on the side of her face.
She held onto the wall and looked at us through what I assumed had to be a fog.
It was the way she was squinting like she couldn’t see us clear as day.
It was daytime, so the sun was shining through the shades.
“Never, Rylan. He knows better, you are his father,” she assured him, which pissed me off.
No matter how frustrated I became with my mother and her life choices she made for us, I never disrespected her. She was my mom and when she wasn’t up my father’s ass, she was chill.
We laughed and had inside jokes that only we understood. I hated that whenever he came around, those things we had, seemed to disappear, and she answered to his every beck and call.
“You were just telling Granny that you were going to move back home and get clean. We don’t need to live like this, Ma,” I pleaded with her to understand.
I had grown tired of the broken promises she made to me. All she did was come through on everything she promised my father.
“Is that so?” He looked at her, as he patted his pocket.
She held onto the wall tighter, as she looked at his pockets. “No, baby… I didn’t say that. My mom wants me to move back, but I told her no.”
Her mouth was salivating at what he had in his pocket. “You leaving me, Inez? Thought we were a family?”
“We…we are family, Ry.” She was literally shaking in front of me in her clothes from days ago, and that stench that seemed to follow her everywhere.
“No the fuck we are not. You keeping her high so she doesn’t leave you is not a fucking family!” I roared.
“I keep you high, Nez?”
“No, baby… never.”
She would have told him that he looked like Jesus, if he asked her.
“Nah, I think you believe that Inez… I could leave. Don’t need to be here,” he threatened. Something that he always did whenever he was losing control.
“Then leave,” I called his bluff, no longer caring about him being here. He needed to leave, and we would be better off without him. We always were better off when he wasn’t around.
Life was better when he was gone. She was better. The first few days were always rough, but I was there to help. Eventually she turned it around and we were good.
Ken would help us with bills until she got on her feet. I missed mom being bright eyed and bushy tailed. Making pancakes in the morning, although they were gross. She could never make them like Granny.
“No, baby, don’t listen to him… stay here,” Mom begged him, as he stood with a satisfied grin on his face.
He was happy that she was pleading with him, needing him, and wanting him to stay. “Put him out, Inez.”
She choked down her words and looked at me through misty eyes. “He’s our baby.”
“That little nigga is your baby. He been walking around here sizing me up like he pays bills. Ever since y’all moved into this bitch with me. Always bragging about what your fuck ass cousins could do. Who taking care of yo bitch ass now?”
“Not you, bitch.”
“Ramelle, stop!” My mother raised her voice, which she never really did. Her voice was always so soft and low.
“Fuck him, Ma… we don’t need him.”
“I need him, Ramelle… shut the fuck up!” she screamed, as my father looked on with satisfaction.