by Anne Schraff
“Thanks, Jamee. ” Cindy sighed with relief. “Thank you for everything,” she said before hanging up the phone. Instantly, tears of relief poured from her eyes.
Seconds later, Cindy heard a knock at her bedroom door. “Who’s calling you at five in the morning?” her mother asked, sounding annoyed.
“No one. It was a wrong number,” Cindy replied, struggling to hide the emotion in her voice.
Her mother opened the door and came into the dark bedroom. “Cindy, who were you just talking to?”
“Why do you care?” Cindy said.
“I’m not leaving this room until you tell me what’s going on,” her mother demanded, sitting at the foot of the bed.
“Oh, so now you’re suddenly gonna try and play Mom,” Cindy answered bitterly. She wanted to talk to her, but she couldn’t hide the anger she felt—anger at Bobby for lying to her, anger at Mom for ignoring her, anger at Raffie for betraying them both. “Just leave me alone. That’s what you always do. ”
“I don’t know why I even bother. You know, I bumped into Mrs. Davis last night, and all she did is tell me how much you want to talk to me. That old woman’s got no sense. She should mind her own business instead of telling me how to raise my child. There ain’t no talkin’ to you,” her mother yelled and walked towards the door.
“Mom . . . ” Cindy turned towards her. She wanted to tell Mom everything that had happened, but she just could not say the words. The anger in her chest was like a net holding the words back. Still, she struggled against it. “Please. Don’t leave,” she said, tears filling the corners of her eyes.
Her mother stopped at the bedroom doorway and turned around. For a second, the apartment was completely quiet. Her mother stood motionless and silent in the dim glow coming from a streetlight. It would be dawn soon.
Cindy tried to hide her emotions, but she was unable to suppress the tears that had begun slipping from her eyes.
“What is it, baby?” her mother asked. “Why are you crying?”
Cindy looked directly at her mother. She didn’t know where to begin, what words to say, or how to say them. But she couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Mom, there’s just too much,” Cindy said. “I don’t know how to tell you ’cause I know you won’t wanna listen. But I’m not gonna lie. Not to you, myself, or anyone. Not anymore,” she said.
“Why don’t you start at the beginning,” her mother said, sitting down on the bed next to her daughter. “I’m listening. ”
Cindy stared into her mother’s eyes. They seemed very tired but sincere. It had been a long while since Cindy had seen such a look on her mother’s face. Impulsively, Cindy grabbed her mother’s hand and began to talk. First, she explained her relationship with Bobby and the Halloween party. Then she described how Bobby had hurt her wrist and tried to choke her, and how he had overdosed on drugs. She even mentioned how Mrs. Davis, Harold, and Jamee had tried to keep her away from Bobby. Her mother shook her head as Cindy recounted the details.
“What were you doin’ with a boy like that? Can’t you see he was no good for you?” her mother said.
Cindy rolled her eyes. Even though her mother meant well, Cindy could barely restrain her impulse to yell at her. She knew Mom was just as blind about Raffie as she had been about Bobby. The only difference, Cindy thought, was that Mom was still ignoring the truth.
“You are just like me, Mom,” she said. “We are exactly the same. ” Faint light from the approaching dawn was beginning to illuminate the small bedroom.
“What are you saying?”
“Mom, I ignored the truth about Bobby because I was afraid. I didn’t listen to my friends or to what my eyes were telling me because I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted someone to love me, someone to care about me, someone to show me that I am special, you know? The whole time, he was lying to me and doing who knows what else,” Cindy explained. “Raffie’s just like Bobby, Mom. And you are just like me. ” Her mother’s jaw hung open as Cindy spoke.
Her mother shook her head. “No!” she said, her voice quivering. “Raffie and I are diff—”
“No, you’re not!” Cindy yelled. “I bet Bobby got his drugs from Raffie. What about the car, and all the money? What about the fact that I saw Raffie outside the high school the other day? What do you think he’s been selling to get all that cash? Everyone in the neighborhood knows about Raffie, and so do you. You just don’t want to admit it. Face it, Mom. He’s been lying to you, and you are letting him get away with it by lying to yourself. The worst part about it is that we’re suffering, Mom. Look at us. All we ever do is yell at each other. I don’t wanna do that any more,” Cindy said, her heart pounding.
Cindy’s mother sat still, staring off towards the morning light for awhile. “The other day Raffie asked me to hold a package for him while he’s away. He wouldn’t tell me what it was, but when I asked him about it, he got very upset,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I kept telling myself it was a present, but I don’t know, Cindy . . . I don’t know what to believe. I just thought we’d get married, but now, I don’t know. ”
“Do you still have the package?” Cindy asked excitedly.
Suddenly the phone rang, piercing the morning quiet. Cindy looked at the clock. It was 6:15. “Who could be calling this early?” she asked.
Mom answered the phone. “Hello? Raffie? What’s wrong? The police station! Now? Who—”
Cindy knew immediately what was happening. The police had finally traced drugs to Raffie, and they had arrested him. She grabbed her mother’s arm. “Hang up, Mom! Hang up!”
“Cindy, this is an emergency! Raffie’s at the police station,” she said. “He says he’s been falsely accused of selling drugs. He wants me to get some money from his apartment and bail him out. ”
“Mom, don’t help him. He’s a liar. Please. Just hang up! He’s no good!”
Cindy’s mother leaned back and looked to the ceiling. “Lord give me strength,” she said. “Hold on a minute, Raffie,” she said into the phone and then turned towards her daughter. “Cindy, go to my room and look under my bed. Raffie’s package is there. ” Cindy rushed into the room and retrieved a brown paper sack.
“Open the package,” Mom directed.
Cindy ripped open the paper. Underneath was a layer of plastic and beneath that a white powdery substance that coated her sweaty finger. “Look!”
Cindy’s mother examined the package without a word. She wiped her eyes several times. Then, taking a deep breath, she picked up the phone and spoke calmly. “Raffie, I ain’t coming for you,” she said. “Me and my daughter are staying here. Take care of yourself. It seems that’s all you care about. ” Then she hung up the phone and dialed the police.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” Mom said, her eyes swollen and bloodshot. She had just finished telling the police officer everything she knew about Raffie.
“Yes, Raphael Whitaker has been under observation for months,” the officer said, giving the package to his partner. “We decided to move last night because we had two other overdoses yesterday with the same symptoms. Between that and evidence from Officer Ortiz at Bluford, we had all we needed to take Whitaker and his dealers off the street for a long time,” he said as he walked out the door.
Cindy turned at the name Ortiz. Pedro had been an undercover police officer, Cindy realized. She shook her head in disbelief.
“All this time, the truth was right in front of me, but I was blind,” Mom said when the officer left, her voice cracking. “I’ve been a terrible mother. I’ve ignored you, I’ve hurt you. I’ve pushed you away. But baby, I love you, and I am so sorry. You are the most precious thing in my life, and I’m not gonna let no man get between us ever again. ”
For several minutes, the two embraced each other in silence. Cindy’s mind raced with questions about the future, questions about their family and about Bobby, questions she could not answer. “What’s gonna happen, Mom?” she finally asked.
“I don’t know, baby.
We got a lot to sort out. We don’t have much money. It’s gonna be hard,” her mother said, blowing her nose.
Mom was right, Cindy thought. The future was uncertain, and they had much work to do. But looking at her mother in the bright morning sunshine, Cindy thought for once that the work was not impossible.
“I think things are gonna get better around here,” Mom said. “I really do. ”
“I think so too, Mom. ”
Just then they heard a knock at the door.
“It’s just me,” a familiar voice said. “I knew y’all had a long night, and I thought you might like some breakfast. ” Cindy opened the door to see Mrs. Davis’s wide smile greeting her. Harold stood behind her holding a large tray filled with eggs, bacon, and fried potatoes.
“Isn’t it a glorious morning, child?” Mrs. Davis beamed.
“It sure is, Grandma Rose,” Cindy said, welcoming the two neighbors into the apartment. “It sure is. ”