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SmoovVButta
Under 100 Club
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Posted: May 31st, 2006 06:47 PM |
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The Sun’s A Liar
(through the eyes of a child’s heart)
My Grams always said, “A bright sunrise meant a good day.” I wanted to believe her, but it didn’t seem to mean that in my neighborhood. We lived in an apartment at the Harriet Tubman Towers. A low income project development in Raleigh, NC. Before then, we lived with Grams. She rented a two bedroom house in a slightly better neighborhood. Four years ago we had to move, cause Grams died and momma couldn’t afford the rent. Our apartment was a lot smaller than Grams’ house, but at least I had my own room. That was the only thing I had to myself and that’s where I spend most of time. Especially when I felt the world was closing in on me. Momma never did the stuff that real parents do. I guess its cause she had me at fourteen and with Grams sick most of the time from cancer, she couldn’t teach her how to be a momma. I don’t know, maybe I’m just making up excuses for her. Who taught me? When my baby sister J’nae was born I was five years old. I remember early one morning, I was awakened by J’nae’s cry. I tried to fall back asleep, but she wouldn’t stop crying. I sat up in bed and looked around, momma had a pillow over her head trying to deaden the sound of her cry. I got out of bed, then stood in front of J’nae’s crib and stared though the same wooden bars that once confined me, until I discovered how to escape. The more momma tried to ignore J’nae’s cry the more she screamed. Flipping to her back, she kicked her legs and stretched her arms out and shook, as she turned red with anger. I walked over to momma and tugged at her covers. “Momma Nae-nae crying” She turned away. I tugged again, “Momma, Nae-nae crying” She snarled at me from beneath the pillow. Though I was only five, I knew that meant, leave her alone. I returned to my baby sister and watched as tears rolled down the side of her face and into her hair. The bottle of red kool-aid momma put her to bed with last night, laid half full, where she was unable to reach. I slid my arm through the wooden bars and put it in her mouth. The crying stopped and that was the beginning.
Thereafter, when J’nae would cry in the morning, momma would tell me to go give her, her bottle. J’nae grew like wildflower, she learned to crawl and walk quickly. I guest any baby would, if they were kept in a crib for most of the day. As time passed I became more responsible for her needs. She came to me before she would momma. I didn’t mind too much, at least she had someone to offset momma’s neglect. In away her dependence on me made me feel needed and loved. Before she was born only Grams made me feel like that. I guess that’s why I was so mad at God for taking her away from me. When I got a little older, I remembered she was in a lot pain and going to Heaven would help her feel better. Then I understood and was no longer mad with God. I think it was Grams who asked God to give me a little sister, so I wouldn’t be on my own with her gone.
Momma had no problem giving her attention and affection to the men who came in and out of our lives, like the change of seasons. Some of them were ok, but most just took from us and never gave anything. They would eat the little food we had and bring their friends over to watch sports, or play video games, so we hardly ever got to watch TV. Two things about her boyfriends angered me the most ... the attention they got from momma... attention that should’ve been given to J’nae and me. And whenever one would be around for more than a few months, momma wanted us to call him daddy. I hated that. Especially since it made me think momma could care less if we knew who our real daddies were. Grams told me my biological daddy’s parents were in the military and while momma was pregnant they were transferred to a military base in Germany. She said, although he was only sixteen at the time, he loved momma and intended to live up to his responsibility. That he wanted momma to go with them, but his parents wouldn’t allow it and he had no means to remain there with her. Yet, I heard different from some of the neighborhood women. They didn’t like momma, cause they said she was a home wrecker and they spread rumors about her and my real daddy’s relationship. That he flipped when momma tried to accuse him of being the father. He denied they ever had sex and refused to have anything else to do with her. Who knows what the real truth is, people gossip and add their own little tidbits just to make it more interesting. Besides, who cares which version was true. All that mattered was... he wasn’t there for me.
Many times I stood in front of the mirror and tried to imagine myself as a man. I knew it was strange, but there was a good reason... at least for me there was. I don’t resemble momma, nor anyone in her family, so I must look like my daddy or somebody in his family. When I imagined myself as a man, I got an idea of what my daddy must look like. Its awful not knowing who your daddy is, its like apart of me is missing and the fact momma could care less, made it even worse. I thought about what life would’ve been like if he hadn’t moved away. Maybe momma would’ve been a better momma had he stayed around. I hated to dwell on stuff like that, because it hurt... even made me mad sometimes. Didn’t he care about me... wasn’t he curious, rather I was a boy or girl? Didn’t he consider for one minute it would hurt to never know my daddy?
And like I did with momma, I found myself making excuses for his absence in my life, but they didn’t wash over. Because, what it all boiled down to... he was my daddy and daddies are supposed to love their children. As I reached my late teens the pain still existed, but not as deep. Possibly I learned how to deal with it, or maybe I considered my little sister’s situation. Her daddy was absent too. I figured a girl’s need for a daddy in her life was greater. I don’t think momma even knew who he was. So I expect her daddy issues will be more painful. I knew I couldn’t take away the empty feeling of being fatherless, but I promised myself I’d shelter her from the anguish of dysfunctional parents, as much as possible. I’m sure by the time she’s my age there’ll be many questions about her daddy that will more than likely remain unanswered.
In my childhood the sunrise in Raleigh was bright more often than not, just as it was a liar, more often than not. Because when it came to good days, they were few and far between.
ImagineNwrite!
SmoovV 
©2005cj
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to be or not to be? Its our choice- smoovV
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MrSnap
Co-Admin Clerk
| Joined: | Nov 16th, 2005 |
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Posted: Jun 1st, 2006 04:26 AM |
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 ...Great story...It was deep yet simple...U named this scribe perfectly...Becuz the sun is shining brightly, does not necessarily means its a great day for all jes as a stormy day is not alwayz the worse thang that can happen on a day when u have outdoor plans...Enjoyed reading this very much ...
Drizz
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Dymon J
Staff
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Posted: Jun 6th, 2006 03:08 PM |
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| ALTHOUGH I WASN'T IN THE EXACT SITUATION, I CAN DEFINITLEY RELATE. JUST BECASUE THE SUN IS OUT DON'T AUTOMATICALLY MAKE IT A GOOD DAY. I'M WIT YOU ON THIS ONE.
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HELP SUPPORT VIZHENZ.COM
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alkebulan
Junior Member
| Joined: | Dec 20th, 2005 |
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Posted: Jun 10th, 2006 09:22 PM |
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sorry this hasn't drawn mor comments & i apologize 4 taking this long 2 comment myself. after two readings, there is no doubt u hv considerable storytelling ability on display here. i particularly liked the title & the opening paragraph.
i did feel there were som minor inconsistencies, but u havn't requested a critique by posting it here. f ur interested, i can either post them here or via pm, f u'd prefer. overall, however, it's an enjoyable read & an interesting beginning - i say that b/c i think it could easily b xpanded, f u wanted to. 
i hope u will post som more short stories when u hv a chance. i am a big fan of the short story - or longer stories as well. i look 4ward 2 reading mor from u.
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SmoovVButta
Under 100 Club
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Posted: Jul 1st, 2006 03:45 AM |
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bigdrizzle and Dymon I'm pleased you both were able to feel where I was coming from. When it comes to creating... be it poetry or stories, I never know how it will spirt. Sometimes the title comes first or the write. In this case... it was the title.
As for you Alkebulan, I apologize for my tardiness to respond.(was on vacation) Your observation was on point. I don't know how many inconsistencies you noticed. I'm aware of some. I thought about correcting them, but didn't because I thought they were slight enough that no one would notice or mention. Well, I was wrong. And to be completely honest... I didn't want to put in the extra work.  I'm very interested to know what you noticed. I do prefer pm and I appreciate you affording me that option.
Thanks again gentlemen poets. I appreciate your time and comments
SmoovV
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to be or not to be? Its our choice- smoovV
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alkebulan
Junior Member
| Joined: | Dec 20th, 2005 |
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Posted: Jul 6th, 2006 06:26 PM |
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hi Smoov 
hving a little pc issues currently - didn't notice ur response till now. welcome back from vacation  - hope u had a gr8 time.
been awhile since i read it now, so, let me re-read it & i'll hit u on pm. thanx again 4 posting it.
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