My heart starts to beat fast when I think about seeing them all again. It'll be like a family reunion. Almost.
Before I go, 1 have to tell you about another strange and unbelievable event. Someone answered one of the letters I'd sent out, and Mister Alvin found it. The person was lying about knowing where my brothers and sisters were. Mister Alvin was so angry and upset, thinking I'd get snatched by a child molester or something, he almost cried.
He had the same look in his eyes my father had once when I'd been playing over at a friend's house for hours and he thought that I was lost. My father was angry and almost cried, too. For a minute I felt like Mister Alvin was my father for real, and I called him Pops. It just slipped out accidentally. 1 haven't said it again.
But 1 feel more like things are normal here since I said it. I know Mister Alvin would like to have a long discussion about why won't I keep calling him Pops. I don't know why myself. I apologized for sending out the letters, and he apologized for yelling at me. I'm going to paint a picture of Miss Grace and Mister Alvin. I haven't finished the picture of the lake yet, but I will. I always keep my promises.
Let me know what's happening in the Bronx. Was there a Sunday school picnic this year? Did you go? Send me another issue of The Bronx News.
Gotta go now. My brothers and sisters will be here soon. Mister Alvin is calling me and Ronald. I hope this ain't a dream.
Love,
Amir
"Ronald, come on in here and get cleaned up."
"Aw, Papa, can I play one more game?"
"No. Come in now. Our company will be here soon."
Amir heard one last bap of the basketball before Ronald burst into the kitchen like a small explosion. "Can't I play until they get here?"
"No," Grace said. "You know we explained to you that your brothers and sisters are coming today, so you have to be on your best behavior and make them feel welcome."
"And they don't want to see a greasy little brother," Alvin joked. "Remember our talk last night? Remember we explained that when you were little, you came to live with us?"
Ronald nodded.
Grace rubbed his head. "Your mommy and daddy who brought you and Amir and your other brothers and sisters into this world are with God now."
Amir thought about Doris's explanation of the two kinds of family: blood family and chosen family. Ronald wouldn't understand that. Maybe nobody could understand it except him and Doris. So Amir said to Ronald, "Guardian angels. Our mother and father are guardian angels watching over us."
Grace and Alvin were both surprised that he'd added to the conversation.
"Yes," Alvin said, "Amir's right on with that. Guardian angels. That's a good thought, son."
Ronald nodded. "But you are my mama and papa now?"
"Yes," they both answered.
"What about Amir?"
"We're a special family, and Amir is part of it, too," Grace said.
"We're Amir's foster parents for now," Alvin quickly added.
"Will the other kids stay with us like Amir?" Ronald asked.
"They're visiting you and Amir," Alvin said.
"Do the boys play basketball or are they like you, Amir?"
Amir shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe they do, Ronald. I don't know, because I haven't seen them for a long time."
"Perhaps they're artists like Amir," Grace said, proudly holding the rough sketch of the portrait that Amir was planning to paint of her and Alvin.
"Or maybe they're good basketball players like you are," Alvin said.
Ronald spun around the kitchen as if he was dribbling a basketball. "I hope they're good artists like Amir. Then they all can draw pictures of me," he said, posing with the ball under his arm.
Amir smiled slowly as Ronald went back to dribbling the invisible basketball. Suddenly he felt connected to Ronald, just as he had when he first saw him in their mother's arms.
Alvin glanced out the window "Here they come. They're rolling down the driveway now."
Before Alvin finished his sentence, Amir was out the door. Alvin's and Grace's mouths opened in shock. Even Ronald looked surprised to see Amir bursting with excitement, as though the two of them had traded places. Ronald watched Amir run down the driveway to meet the car, then suddenly followed him. As the car came to a stop, Ronald stood close to Amir. Amir put his arm around Ronald's shoulders while they waited for their sisters and brothers to climb out.
Grace and Alvin watched them sadly for a moment from the kitchen window before going outside to greet Amir's family.
10 P.M.
September 12th
Dear Doris,
I'm back again. I have to tell you about all of the things that happened today. I finally saw my sisters and brothers—and my aunt Gloria and her husband, Uncle Zachary. We always called him Uncle Z for short. It almost felt like a family reunion. At first everything was wonderful. My aunt almost jumped out of the car before it stopped—just like Ronald does when he's excited.
I remembered her—except she's shorter and fatter than my mom was, but their voices are the same. She squeezed me like a lemon and began to cry. The kids looked shocked. Ronald stood next to me with his mouth open and his eyes bugging out of his head. "Oh, my God, you look just like your father," my aunt said to me.
Her husband said, "You've grown so tall." (Maybe I'm as tall as you are now, Doris.) "And you finally got some meat on them bones." (He always said I was too skinny.)
Anyway, when Aunt Gloria turned toward Ronald, he looked like he wanted to run down the driveway and get away from her. I thought that she was going to smother him to death when she hugged him. My uncle kept saying to her, "Now, baby, calm down, baby." Ronald didn't seem to know whether to laugh or to cry.
The kids got out of the car, looking shy and confused, like they weren't sure what was happening. Ronald was shy, too, and seemed frightened—which was strange because he always loves to play with other kids. And here these other kids were his own sisters and brothers.
Of course, I remembered them all, though they have grown. Only my sister Olivia remembered me. She smiled, and 1 saw my mother's face again. Olivia hugged me. That's how she always was—smiling, hugging, happy. She hugged Ronald and even Miss Grace and Mister Alvin.
My aunt said, staring at the younger ones, "I always told them that they had two brothers, and they were crazy with excitement all the way up here. Now see how they're acting."
We all went in the house, and Ronald and the other kids just stared at each other, I guess the same way me and Ronald looked at each other when we first met. I whispered to Ronald, "Ask them whether they want to play ball."
"You play basketball?" he asked Shawn and David.
They lit up like little lamps. "Yeah, yeah." All four of them, including Sharon, the other twin, dashed out of the house. Olivia and I followed them. Olivia grabbed my hand as we walked toward the bench, and it felt like we'd never been separated.
We sat on the bench together and watched the others play ball. Sharon played as good as the boys. Olivia whispered to me, "She's a wild tomboy, you know."
After a while I got my sketchpad, and with Olivia sitting next to me on the bench, I drew her. She has a smile like my mother's—the same deep dimples. Then I sketched Ronald, David, and the twins playing ball. I wish I could sketch the sound of their laughter, and I wish I could sketch the happiness in my heart. I wasn't thinking about anything. Not about what happened in the past, or even what would happen in the future.
Mister Alvin grilled hamburgers and franks, and Miss Grace brought out potato salad, fried chicken, and one of her layer cakes, and we all stuffed ourselves. Uncle Z and Mister Alvin watched a baseball game on television. My aunt helped Miss Grace serve the food.
Everything was beautiful until my aunt and uncle took me aside so that they could speak to me privately. I sat between both of them on the porch swing, and my aunt spoke first. "This is a nice place, Amir, and the Smiths are good people," she said. "But they're not your rea
l family."
Then my uncle said, "Your aunt wants all of you kids to live together. You don't know how worried she's been about you."
Aunt Gloria held my hand like she didn't want me to get away. "Amir, we want you and Ronald to live with us. That's what your mother wanted, too."
"Ronald thinks the Smiths are his family," I said.
"I know, but see how happy he is with his sisters and brothers—and with you. This is what your mother worried about more than anything—that you kids would end up living in different homes. I know, because she told me."
She clutched my hand until it hurt. "It's only left now for you and Ronald to be with us."
Uncle Zachary said, "It won't be easy, because we have two teenagers of our own. Your cousins. They're anxious to see you."
"Me and your uncle are working hard to keep things going as it is." Aunt Gloria looked real worried. "But you and Ronald are family—my sister's children. You don't know how it upset me that you were in a group home somewhere and Ronald didn't even know his own family."
She held my face in both of her hands like I was a little kid. "I've prayed many times for this day. Amir, since you're fourteen, it's up to you to say where you want to live. You can stay here, but you know what your dear mother would've wished."
My uncle jumped into the conversation. "There might be a little fight when it comes to Ronald, because the Smiths want to adopt him," he said, "and I don't think they'll give up so easy. But Ronald will get used to living with us." Uncle Zachary kept wiping his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief, like he was nervous.
My aunt and uncle told me that there would be a hearing before a judge, and I'd have to speak with a social worker. "You're important to all of this, Amir," she said. "If you say you want to live with us and you want all of your sisters and brothers to be together, then the judge will most likely agree to let all you children live with me and your uncle."
All sorts of feelings swept over me, Doris. I could hear the kids playing in the backyard—laughing, screeching, with Olivia watching and calling them, because she's the big sister. They made a lot of happy noise—the way you always want your family to sound. But all I could think about was how those happy sounds would change soon.
First, I felt sorry for Miss Grace and Mister Alvin. Second, I felt bad for Ronald. I couldn't imagine him living anywhere but here. What made me feel real bad was that my aunt was right. My mother and father had wanted all of us to live together.
Well, when it was time for them to leave, Ronald wanted to know whether they were coming back tomorrow. Then the kids started jumping up and down yelling, "Can we come back tomorrow? Can we?"
My aunt didn't answer them. "It's getting late now. We have to go" was all she said.
And my uncle said, "You all had a good time today. You'll see your brothers again."
I hated to see them go, too, but I couldn't bear to look at Miss Grace and Mister Alvin.
My aunt and uncle must've told them they wanted to adopt Ronald, because both of them seemed so sad. After everyone had gone, Miss Grace went to her bedroom, and Mister Alvin took me and Ronald out for a ride. I know he wanted to talk to us, but he was silent, which is not like him. Ronald didn't know anything yet, so he just chattered on and on about the visit. He's sleeping in the other twin bed now, probably having happy dreams.
When we got back from the ride, the whole house felt different. Now I hear Miss Grace's and Mister Alvin's voices coming from downstairs. I can't tell what they're saying—just soft voices sounding like a moan. I'm trying not to be angry with my aunt, because she's following my mother's wishes. But this reminds me of the way she used to upset my mother whenever she visited us. I tell myself that she's only trying to help.
I always thought that all of us being together would make life perfect. And it was for a little while this afternoon. But now I'm more confused than before. I hated to see everyone leave, and part of me wanted to go with them. But I didn't want to hurt the Smiths, and 1 know I'd miss Ronald, too. It's just like you said once before. Someone is going to end up unhappy.
Love,
Amir
Amir was worn out. He put the letter in the same envelope with the letter he'd written earlier that day. He wanted to go to sleep like Ronald and not think about things anymore.
He heard a soft knock on the door before Alvin opened it. "Come downstairs for a moment, son. We have to talk to you," Alvin whispered. Ronald stirred in his sleep.
Amir felt as though someone had placed a pile of rocks on his slender shoulders as he followed Alvin to the living room.
Grace's gentle brown eyes were rimmed in red. Though she put on her glasses when Amir sat next to her on the couch, he could tell she'd been crying.
Alvin cleared his throat. "Amir, this is hard. Your aunt and uncle told us that you'll be going to live with them."
Amir stared directly at Alvin and shook his head. "I didn't tell her anything yet. I mean ... I guess I will."
Grace tried to steady her voice. "We ... we understand if you want to go with your aunt. We would love for you to stay with us and would adopt you, adopt—"
Alvin finished for her. "We would adopt you also, Amir. The choice is yours." He cleared his throat. "But Ronald has to stay with us. Because your aunt requested a hearing about his case, we can't go on with the adoption proceedings." He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache. "We want you to know that we will fight to keep Ronald. We are not trying to split up your family, but we raised Ronald since he was a toddler." He paused and stared at Amir. "Do you understand, son?"
Amir nodded and lowered his eyes. "Yes," he barely whispered. The weight felt heavier—he just wanted to go to sleep. Buck up, you guys. His father's words didn't help this time.
"Amir, Ronald is our son. He could see his brothers and sisters often. Call them every day if he wants to. But we can't just give him up like that. What would it do to him?"
Ronald suddenly burst into the room. "I don't want to go away," he cried. "Please don't send me away. Please, Papa!" He jumped into Grace's lap, and she rocked him.
Alvin said, "Come on, Ronald, you too big for all that. Nobody's going to send you away." His voice cracked. He rubbed his mustache and tried to make a joke. "Every shut eye ain't asleep."
Ronald slid off Grace's lap and sat between her and Amir. His button eyes filled with tears as he turned to Amir and grabbed his arm. "I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay here, too."
Amir's throat tightened. He couldn't speak, but he put his arm around Ronald's shoulders.
4 P.M.
Thursday
September 17th
My Dear Amir,
I thought you'd be jumping up and down for joy about finally being with all your sisters and brothers. I know what I said before about someone getting hurt. But why does it always have to be like that? There's got to be a way to fix things and make them perfect for everyone involved.
Now, I reread one of your letters, and you said that your mother told you not to lose your brothers and sisters. Well, you haven't lost them, because you know where they are. She didn't say everyone had to live together, did she?
Anyway, I felt so bad for you when I read your letter. Ronald will be tripping if they take him away from the Smiths. Your aunt and uncle put you in the middle of everything. Well, here are some words that I hope will help you.
People do not have to live in the same house, or on the same street, in the same state, or in the same country in order to be close to one another. Sometimes people see each other every day and can't stand one another anyhow.
It doesn't matter who lives where or who lives with who. Everyone can't be in the same place all at once. But hearts can remember and love all of the time.
Amir, I hope by now you have decided what you are going to do. I know you didn't ask for my advice or my opinion, but I've been thinking about your situation and here's a little tip:
Go with your aunt and uncl
e. It makes sense. Suppose the court sends Ronald to live there. The best place for him to be is wherever you are, because you are Ronald's memory. You understand his old life with the Smiths, and you can help him with his new life with his real family. Ronald is old enough to write letters. He can write the Smiths and that way never lose touch with them. He might be upset at first, but he'll get used to it. I hope this is helpful.
I didn't create a new issue of The Bronx News yet, because, like I said, I'm only telling good news. For a time last week there was nothing good to report; as a matter of fact, it was turning into the worst week of my life.
As you know, at first when I found out about Charlene, I decided to end our friendship. Let her run wild with her sisters or whoever. She stopped meeting me in the library and coming around the block after she told me what she was doing. I decided not to say anything to anybody, because I'm no snitch.
On Monday Gerald made a serious effort to drive me crazy, so I took him to the library. You will not believe who was already there—all of Charlene's sisters. They couldn't find Charlene and thought that she was with me. "You got our sister all messed up," one of the older sisters says. "Trying to be a cool little twerp like you," says she.
"How come you don't know where your own sister is?" says I.
"Don't get smart with me," says she, and so on. You get my drift. Then another sister says, "She ain't been acting right since y'all become buddies."
I felt like I was hit with a bolt of lightning. They really didn't know what Charlene was doing. She wasn't following behind them but doing her own stupid thing.
So, Amir, I took your advice. I found some words to help Charlene. I told. I could barely say it out loud. "Your sister's been smoking pot." I felt rotten, and all I could hear was Charlene's sisters screeching in my ears like 100 sirens tearing down Third Avenue.
"You a liar."
"You the one been spreading those rumors."
"We told Charlene she was stupid to be friends with you."
One True Friend Page 8