Issue #20 (2011) PDF - myweb - Long Island University

Desiree Rucker
TEN TO LIFE
The sun slipped through the bars of his window, across the room and over Jamel‘s bed, burning
through the veil of sleep. Jamel opened his eyes, He couldn‘t believe it—he was finally ten. He
threw off his covers and sat up in bed. His sister Dawn slept in the twin bed next to his. She
turned, and he thought she was awake, perhaps ready to start the celebration. But she was still
asleep, her thumb stuck between her upturned lips, a trickle of dried spit on each side of her mouth.
He thought about waking her up but decided against it. He needed this time to think about his day
and the plans for his life. He sat for a moment and decided he should get up and face the world—
like a man. It was already 9:00 AM, and he heard his mother in the kitchen.
―Happy birthday, J,‖ his mother said without turning around from the stove. She was in her
housedress, which meant she was tired or had lady issues. If she was in a good mood, she would
have on shorts that were a little too tight if you asked him, but she looked good. Worry kept her
thin.
―You remembered. Thank you,‖ he said, pulling the wrapping paper off an action figure that
sat at his place at the table.
―Do I remember I was there. You want some pancakes and bacon for your birthday‖
―Yeah, and some Lucky Charms, too,‖ Jamel said, making the action figure dance.
―Oh, Mike ate them last night. I‘m sorry, Baby.‖
Did she say Mike ate his Lucky Charms ―The whole damn box‖
―Watch your mouth. You only ten, not a hundred. That is when you can curse in my
house.‖
Add that to the list of items he was going to kick Mike‗s ass about in another year or two.
Ugly, big, stink feet, taking my Mamma money, sleeping on my couch when I come home from
school so we can‘t play Nintendo; need to get the fuck out of my house, Mike.
His mother placed in front of him a plate with two strips of crispy bacon, next to two
banana pancakes drowned in syrup and a glass of Mountain Dew. Jamel got up and hugged her at
the stove. ―Thanks for keeping me. Thanks for my birthday breakfast.‖
―What you know about me keeping you Just eat,‖ she said, patting him on his head.
He knew from his mother‘s sister, Alma, that his mother had made an important decision last
year, one that involved crying for days before and after. Alma had come to stay with them the week
of the decision and had confided to Jamel, which had made him feel like the man of the house.
For a while his mamma spent more time with Jamel and Dawn when they came home from
school, making special dinners and not going to play cards or across the avenue to the bar. Jamel
liked that Mike wasn‘t there pretending to be in charge. Jamel didn‘t understand the whole story
until his friend Ray told him that he heard that Jamel‘s mother had got rid of the baby, and Jamel
asked, ―Like giving it up for adoption‖ and Ray called him stupid and said, ―No, she killed it. But
it really wasn‘t a real baby, not really.‖ Jamel still didn‘t understand how it could be a baby but not a
real baby, but he knew she stopped throwing up and was her old self again a few weeks later. Ray
said a couple of girls he messed with had done it, but Jamel knew he was lying. Ray lied about so
much stuff.
Dawn shuffled out to the kitchen and plopped into a chair. She was two years younger than
Jamel, but he knew he would have to tell her what day today was, and she still wouldn‘t understand
the importance of this day. She would like the cake, though. His mother made the best cakes; her
secret was she used two cans of frosting. The social worker had explained to him that Dawn was
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