Sun Keep Rising by Kristen R. Lee

Author:Kristen R. Lee [Lee, Kristen R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2023-01-24T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

“YOU SURE YOU want to come to this park, Mama?” I ask. “I don’t mind walking a little further to the nicer one. Mia needs to get the sun on her anyway.”

The one near the courts isn’t bad, but it’s old. Weeds grow from the cracks. Nothing has been updated since the nineties, but the kids play on the metal slides anyway. Making something out of nothing. A skill around here.

“This is fine, right here.” Ma lays Mia’s bunny blanket on the asphalt. We set up the picnic spread Mama made this morning. It ain’t a fancy charcuterie board, but it’s the closet we’re going to get. She gives Mia a Ritz cracker to mash on.

I gotta give Mama credit. We haven’t been hungry since she got here. Between her food stamps and regular money, our bellies haven’t growled none this week. Food is the way to the heart, and Mama trying her best to plant her flag there. Last night she made my favorite: oxtails, pinto beans, and cornbread. She makes it just like Grandma did. We even had a homemade dessert. Nothing freezer burnt.

“I heard Scooter’s parents trying to take Mia from you. We won’t let that happen, especially since I’m just getting to know her. The judge will see that she has a family that can take care of her now.”

“The Canes got money, though. Long money. Who knows what they will and won’t do,” I say.

“Trust your mama, aight? I said they not taking her and I mean that.”

Mama deads the subject, but it’s always at the back of my mind. We’re damn near halfway through the month, and I have nothing to show for it. The Canes not even taking Mia’s favorite things because the stuff at their house is better. Would she even remember me? The way I sing to her at night and how I kiss her nose in the morning to wake her up. Eventually I’ll be a foggy memory.

“Isis, is that you?” A tiny man whose clothes hang off him stops in front of us. He smells like he hasn’t showered in weeks. I’ve seen enough drug addicts in my life to know he is one.

“Hey, Fred. What’s good with you?” Mama spreads out the salami, crackers, and cheese and pours two Dixie cups of grape juice.

“Same ole, same ole. You know how it is. Don’t tell me these your children?” He scratches at his neck and then his wrists. I pray that no skin flakes fall on our food.

“My daughter B’onca and my grandbaby Mia,” Mama replies.

“Damn, I remember when you were pregnant with that one,” he says like he’s pondering how many years have gone by. “You look good, Isis. Real good.”

“I’m clean now,” she says proudly. “I want to be around to see my children grow up.”

“That’s smart of you, Isis. I’ma go see the people tomorrow. I’m tired of smoking up all my money.”

The same lies that Mama used to say.

“You do that, Fred. There’s more to life than dope.

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