Mama

Mama must be mad at me. Well I’m mad at her too. She never talks to me anymore. Ever since the fire, she lays in bed most of the day. Sometimes she still talks to Janie, but Janie can’t say nothin’, she’s just a baby. I think I’m eight years old but I forgot my birthday and Mama won’t tell me when it is. She just stares at the wall or out the window like she can’t even hear me. It makes me mad a lot. One time I was talking to her but she just looked at me and then she looked away, so I grabbed her quilt and threw it on the floor. Mama screamed, like I scared her and it made me feel like I was bad.

“Mama, I’m sorry,” I said, but she didn’t say nothin’. Just picked up her quilt and went to the other room. I don’t know if Mama made me cry or if I made me cry, but I cried a long time that night. My daddy told me other people can’t make me cry and if I feel somethin’, then it’s because of me...But I think Daddy was wrong because he made Mama cry a lot when he was alive, but Mama never made Daddy cry.

I was little back then. Mama says I’m not grown ‘til she says so but I was more littler than I am now. Janie wasn’t born yet when Mama used to tuck me in at night without Daddy. One night I asked if he was gonna tell me ‘goodnight’ and my Mama cried. “Why are you cryin’, Mama,” I asked her.

“Sometimes your father makes me cry, Anna, and sometimes he’s not very good to us but I love you and that’s all that matters and I think your Daddy loves you too,” she said. Daddy came home late that night. I was supposed to be asleep but I was layin’ in my bed, listenin’ to them talk. Then Mama started to shout.

“You have a daughter! That’s the kinda man you’re gonna let your daughter see,” I heard Mama yellin’.

“Sara, dammit, I told you it’s not true,” Daddy shouted back.

“Dammit,” I whispered in my bed. My mama said to never say that word but Daddy used it all the time and I liked the way it felt. “Dammit,” I whispered again, and I heard my daddy’s voice saying somethin’ but I wasn’t listening hard enough.

“You’re a liar, Charles,” Mama said, like a cat, hissing, “Do you think I’m blind, you think I’m stupid? I’ve seen the letters, Charles.”

“So what, one girl sends a letter and now-“

“-Don’t play with me, Charles, I am not a fucking child, and I’m not stupid! And I will embarrass you, the way you embarrassed me,” Mama sounded mad. More mad than I ever heard before. Then Mama’s voice was softer. “I am pregnant. Don’t make me raise two children by myself. You need to grow up, be a father to your children...Don’t touch me,” she said, sounding mad again. Then I heard footsteps coming and closed my eyes like I was asleep. I felt my mama’s hand on my arm, pulling me up.

“C’mon, baby,” Mama told me, but Daddy was standing in the door and wouldn’t let her pass. “Move, Charles,” Mama sounded like when she told me to obey

her.

Daddy didn’t move. “Sara,” he said.

“Move, Charles,” Mama said again. Daddy grabbed her wrist so she couldn’t go anywhere.

“You not just gonna take my child from me, Sara-“

“-Oh now you have a child! What child? You’re never here for her! You’re never here for me! Look your child in the eye and tell her where you were, Charles, tell your child why you weren’t here to see her last night! Or the night before! Tell your daughter what’s going on, Charles!”

“God dammit, I said you’re not takin my child!” Daddy shouted and punched the wall. I screamed and Mama pushed him out of the door and left me in my room alone. I cried and listened to them yell some more until I fell asleep.

That was a long time ago. They were like that a lot until the fire. After our house caught on fire I never saw Daddy again. After the fire I saw my mama cry but she was callin me when she cried. She never talked about Daddy.

“Anna, Anna,” Mama would cry and call me. I sat next to her on the floor.

“I’m here, Mama,” I said, but she didn’t answer. She was still talking to me a little bit, ‘til Janie was born. She’d ask me how my day was and if I wanted to sit with her for dinner. But after Janie came, my mama stopped talking to me.

Sometimes she’ll stare at me. Sometimes she’ll call me from the other room but when I come she just cries or turns away. When the neighbors come to visit she doesn’t let them in like she used to. No one comes inside anymore, not since we moved to this house. It’s just Janie, Mama, and me. When Mama doesn’t pay attention to me I talk to Janie. She can’t talk yet but I know what she means, and it’s better to talk to her than my mama.

I know Mama’s mad at me. I guess it’s my fault that Daddy died, because they were yelling about taking me before the fire. The night our house caught on fire Mama told me my daddy would take me to my auntie’s house but I cried to my daddy and asked him to stay. I told him if I went, Mama would come and take me away forever. So Daddy let me stay home and tucked me in that night while Mama was away.

Then the fire got him. It didn’t get Mama. I saw her standin’ outside, watching it burn. She had tears on her face but she was quiet. That’s how I know she’s mad at me. Whenever she’s mad, she don’t say anything. Like yesterday. I tried to talk to her but she stared at me. Her eyes looked like she was afraid so I went to play with Janie instead. When I dropped a toy Mama came in and took Janie away. I followed her, calling her name. “Mama,” I called her, “Mama, where are you going,” I asked, but she left the house and left me all alone.

I sat alone and waited for my Mama to come back. When the door opened she came in with Father Joseph but no Janie. Father Joseph walked around and wouldn’t look at me. Mama was ignoring me. Father Joseph was ignoring me. Walkin’ around, praying and usin’ his fingers to put water in every room. I got so mad and yelled at my mama. “I hate you!” I yelled, “I wish you weren’t my mom!” and slammed the bedroom door. I knew I’d get in trouble but I didn’t care. Ever since the fire she didn’t love me anymore so I wouldn’t love her either.

I heard Mama and Father Joseph’s voices on the other side. Mama sounded scared. Scared, she’s always scared. She’s always scared, she’s always mad, she’s always crying. I hate her. She never talks to me anymore; she never plays with me anymore. I want my mommy back but she doesn’t love me anymore. After yesterday I decided to run away but I couldn’t do it without telling my Momma that I’m leaving forever. Today I’m running away and never coming back.

“Mama,” I call her. I’m standing in front of her while she’s on her bed. I make two fists and try my hardest not to yell because my Mama taught me to never raise my voice at her. Janie’s at the neighbor’s house and I won’t be able to tell her that I’m leaving but that’s Mama’s fault.

“Mama,” I call her again. She’s looking at me and she sits up in bed. The way she’s looking at me makes me not feel so mad. Suddenly I don’t want to run away anymore, I just want her to hold my hand and tell me she still loves me even thought Daddy is gone and it’s all my fault.

“Anna,” she asks and I touch her hand.

“Mama, talk to me,” I say and feel tears in my eyes. I grab her hand and she pulls it away. She starts crying too and I don’t know why.

“Mama, don’t cry. I’m sorry about Daddy. I didn’t mean-“ “-Anna,” Mama asks again and I nod my head.

“Mama, I’m right here. Please don’t be mad at me,” I tell her, and wipe my tears. But she gets up off the bed and she walks to her dresser.

“Mama, what are you doing,” I ask but she doesn’t answer and pulls Daddy’s old gun out of the top drawer, then walks to the front door. She’s walking too fast for me and I run behind her.

“Mama!” I’m calling her but she isn’t looking at me. She opens the front door and she’s walking to the yard.

“Mama!” I scream, and she pulls the trigger with the gun to her head. I look away, closing my eyes and scream when I hear the loud bang but then my mama’s hand is on my cheek.

“Anna,” she says, and she’s smiling at me with tears still in her eyes. She’s finally talking to me. “Anna, my baby,” she says and hugs me tight and I smile and look up at the yard where all the neighbors are standing in a crowd. I see Janie with an old lady who’s talking to other neighbors. Mama’s hugging me but I’m watching the neighbors.

“It’s so tragic,” the old lady says to another lady, “She was depressed.” Depressed. I don’t know what that means but I’ll ask Mama later.

“That’s Sara Coreil,” another lady says, “Her husband had an affair with that Fontenot girl and got her pregnant. Sara burned their house down with him in it, poor bastard.

“Oh, Catherine, don’t be a gossip. We don’t know that she did it,” says a younger lady. The lady named Catherine gives her a look and crosses her arms.

“She set fire to their house with him in it and accidentally trapped their daughter inside. My cousin saw her standin’ outside, watchin’ it burn to the ground and nobody knew that the little girl was trapped inside until it was too late,” Catherine says.

“That’s why you don’t go messin’ with them New Orleans boys. Break your heart and make you crazy. Poor girl’s got to face God now,” the old lady says.

I stand there a long time and watch all the people and neighbors talk while Mama hugs me and talks to me. I don’t understand what they mean. But Janie smiles at me and I smile back.