Isaiah Dunn Is My Hero

by Kelly J. Baptist

  “SURPRISE!”

  I look around the room and see Miz Rita and Charlie, Sneaky’s mom, Angel, and even Rock and his wife. The whole living room is decorated, and everybody’s smiling.

  “We got you, ’Saiah!” Sneaky laughs. “Bet you thought everybody forgot, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “I forgot, ’Saiah,” says Charlie, hiding her face in her hands. “But then I remembered!”

  I tickle her until she laughs all high like Elmo.

  “Thanks, Miz Rita,” I say, giving her a hug next.

  “Of course, baby,” she says, and she gives me a big kiss! Yuck!

  Rock slaps me five so hard, it hurts.

  “Let’s have fun with eleven, aight, li’l man?”

  Sneaky bets me a dollar I can’t eat five slices of pizza, which is a mistake for him, cuz I do it easy. He actually gives me the dollar!

  Right before Miz Rita brings out my cake, her phone rings. “Grab that for me, ’Saiah, okay?” she says.

  I swipe the green check mark to answer the call. “Hello?”

  “Isaiah?”

  I almost drop the phone.

  “Mama?”

  “Happy birthday, baby!” she says, and I can hear the smiles in her voice. It’s the best present ever!

  “Thanks, Mama!” I say. “Miz Rita got me a cake with my face on it!”

  “You guys make sure to take a picture of it for me,” Mama says. I tell her if I had a cell phone I could take a picture of it easily, and she laughs a real laugh.

  “I love you, baby, and I’m so proud of you. You’ve been so brave with everything that’s going on,” Mama says.

  “You too, Mama,” I say. I wanna tell her about the project sooooo bad, but I know it’s gotta be a surprise.

  Miz Rita puts the call on speaker so Mama can sing “Happy Birthday” with everyone else. Sneaky and Charlie sing mad loud and off-key, but my ears hold on to Mama’s voice. I feel sad when we have to say goodbye, but I just keep imagining how excited Mama will be when she gets back.

  * * *

  —

  I know I’m eleven now, but before I go to sleep, I make sure to tell Inka all about the library project and how I’m hoping it’ll help Mama. It looks like she’s smiling.

  June 28

  READY

  Everything

  Gotta be

  Just right.

  Dishes washed and floor swept and trash not a mountain to climb.

  Vacuum and scrubbing and dusting and

  Trusting she's better.

  She gotta be.

  Haircut and Hair puff

  And enough

  food for everybody and they mama.

  Also,

  Heart beating fast and

  Hoping that

  We're ready.

  June 29

  I TRY TO hold Charlie back when we hear the front door unlock, but it’s no use. She runs like a madwoman.

  “MOMMEEEEEE!”

  Charlie screams loud enough to have the whole building dialing 911, but today, nobody’s telling her to shut up. I watch from the couch as Mama walks inside and then instantly has Charlie in her arms and a smile on her face. She looks different, but also the same.

  “Charlie baby!” Mama squeezes Charlie and kisses her over and over. “Mmmmm, Mama missed you so much!”

  “I missed you, too, Mama,” Charlie says, her voice muffled in Mama’s love.

  I’m split between wanting them to hug forever and being ready for Mama to stop so she sees me. When she finally puts Charlie down, her eyes find me.

  “Look at my big boy!” Mama says, squeezing me so tight, I can barely breathe. She kisses my cheek again and again and runs her hand over my fresh Mohawk.

  “You got taller, ’Saiah,” Mama says, and I guess she’s right.

  “How are you feeling, Mama?” I ask. Her face looks super happy.

  “Good, baby,” Mama says. “I’m feeling good. I’m glad to be home.”

  Mama tells us about the food at her program, and Miz Rita laughs and says it’s a miracle she made it out alive.

  “First thing I’m gonna make is some real banana pudding,” Mama says.

  “Can you make it today, Mama?” Charlie asks.

  “Charlie, remember what Miz Rita told you!” I say, giving her a look.

  “Oh yeah,” Charlie says. Miz Rita’s told us to make sure we let Mama ease into things, and not bug her with little stuff. If it was up to me, I’d take Mama to the library right away for my surprise. But we have a plan, so we have to wait.

  After dinner, Charlie forgets all about what Miz Rita said, and begs Mama to watch Finding Dory.

  “Yes, Charlie, we can watch it, but how ’bout after you take your bath?” Mama says.

  “I’ll help her,” I volunteer. “You just sit down and relax.”

  Mama helps Miz Rita clean up in the kitchen instead, and Charlie takes the fastest bath ever. For the first time in a long time, Mama stays awake for the whole movie.

  Once it’s over, Miz Rita takes Charlie to read a story so I can have time alone with Mama, just like we planned.

  “What’s this?” Mama asks when I hand her a card.

  “Just something to welcome you back,” I tell her.

  I watch her read my poem, and then the invitation that Angel created.

  “July first at the library?” Mama raises an eyebrow. “Did you win another contest or something?”

  “Nope!” I say. “Even better.”

  “I can’t wait!”

  Me either.

  July 1

  “YOU ALL RIGHT, Isaiah?” Mama asks, squeezing my hand. “You lookin’ more nervous than me!”

  “I’m good,” I tell her, swallowing hard. I know the room is perfect, but what if it’s not perfect enough to help Mama, to keep her from being sad? But then I think about how she’ll see Daddy’s words everywhere, and how they’ll make her strong.

  His words in my mind make me strong, too. A head held high means you see everything you’re supposed to! There’s no stomach karate when we walk into the library; I just keep my head high, hold on to Mama’s hand, and smile.

  We don’t have to dress all fancy this time, but I wear one of Daddy’s ties anyway. There’s a big red bow in front of the room, and Mrs. Priest motions for me and Mama to come stand with her behind the bow. It’s not a huge crowd at all, but people snap pictures like we’re famous!

  “Isaiah, what is this?” Mama whispers, her eyes wide.

  “You’ll see,” I whisper back, grinning for the cameras.

  “So good to see you both!” Mrs. Priest says, hugging me and Mama. Mama holds my hand the whole time. “I’ll be short and sweet this time, okay, Isaiah?” I nod, and Mrs. Priest waves to get everyone’s attention.

  “Almost a year ago, a family lost a father, a husband, and a tremendous writer,” Mrs. Priest says. “And were it not for a talented son who wanted to keep his father’s legacy alive, the story would’ve ended there. But I’m here today to let you know the story is only beginning! Isaiah, you are a hero to your family, and we thank you for sharing your father’s words with us. And to all of you who came out to celebrate with us, welcome to the official opening of the Gary Dunn Writing Room!”

  Mrs. Priest hands me a giant pair of scissors, and me and Mama cut the bow together. Everyone claps and whistles.

  “After you,” Mrs. Priest says, and me and Mama walk into the room.

  The room is green and brown and yellow, Daddy’s favorite colors. Daddy’s words hang on the walls, and there are six writing stations with brand-new computers. Yellow and green beanbags are in the corners of the room, and bookcases line the walls.

  Mama’s completely shocked as she walks around th
e room, touching each frame that holds Daddy’s words. Charlie bounces on a beanbag and grabs a book.

  “ ’Saiah, can you read this to me?”

  “Mama, you okay?” I ask, not wanting to let go of her hand.

  “Yes, baby,” she says, giving me a squeeze. “I am very okay.”

  Somebody from the paper takes a picture of me reading to Charlie and asks me what gave me the idea to have the writing room.

  “I just wanted to make a cool place for people who want to write,” I say.

  “And do you think your dad would’ve done a lot of writing here?”

  “Yeah, he would have,” I say. Then I think for a second. “But now I’m gonna do the writing for him. And for me.”

  July 4

  POP! POP! POW!

  The fireworks are going off one after the next, and Miz Rita’s complaining that she can’t get a good picture of them on her phone.

  “Just keep clicking, Rita,” Mama advises with a chuckle. “You bound to get a good one somewhere in there.”

  “I like that one, ’Saiah!” Charlie says, pointing to the pink sparkles disappearing into the night.

  “Nah, that one’s better,” Sneaky says when red, white, and blue lights explode.

  The roof of our apartment building is the best place to watch fireworks, so that’s where me, Mama, Charlie, Miz Rita, and Sneaky are. I watch Mama, who’s sipping lemonade from the “Hot Mama” mug I got her last Christmas. Her and Charlie are wearing matching dresses that look like the flag, and they’re both swatting at mosquitoes.

  “Miz Rita, I don’t think your bug spray is working,” Sneaky says, squashing one on his arm.

  Miz Rita shakes her head and sprays us some more. Nobody says anything about going inside. No way we’re gonna miss this.

  I feel words coming when the sky lights up with yellow and orange, so I open my notebook and catch them all.

  “Listen to this one, Mama,” I say once I’m finished.

  “Twinkle twinkle,

  Little dream.

  You are closer

  Than you seem.

  You explode,

  But it’s all good.

  Now I see you

  Like I should.

  Twinkle twinkle,

  Little dream.

  We are stronger

  Than we seem.”

  When I look up, Mama’s got this smile on her face, like she has a huge secret.

  “You like it?” I ask. Mama nods.

  “You know what I think, Isaiah?”

  “What?”

  “I think,” she says, taking a sip from her mug and winking, “it’s gonna be one of them years!”

  Me and Mama fist-bump right as the sky explodes with gold sparkles.

  “Nah,” I tell her. “It’s gonna be even better.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  God, the Master Creative Author, has given me the gift of weaving words together in a way that hopefully brings transformation and inspiration to young people. You get the glory, and I am forever grateful.

  Hulrick, I would not have pressed “submit” for the short-story contest if it had not been for your calming encouragement in the midst of pandemonium. Thank you for your support of my writing….Your turn now! (Hint, hint, G.C. Drum-Off!)

  Bianca, Ricky, Micaiah, Natalia, and Zackery, you are my greatest chapters! Without you, I would never know how to write in situations of utter chaos. Now that you see this book thing is real, how about letting Mommy write in peace sometimes? I love you guys forever and hope I have shown you that working hard for your passion is always worth it. CHAMPION’S MOUNTAIN!

  To my parents, thank you for reading to me, taking me to the library, and supporting my writing since I was little. I am beyond blessed to have you in my corner; that fact brings peace to my soul. I love you!

  To Kim and Karmen, you guys are usually the first to read my work, and I always appreciate your feedback. Thank you for being not only sisters but friends. I love you both!

  To my brother, Pierre, I have waited my whole life for you! You were my brother the second you said you liked Kobe. (Good choice, Kim!) MAMBA FOREVER!

  To my homies, Jayne and Afiya, it’s so amazing to have friends who get that whole “Wait, you have how many kids?” thing. Let’s keep holding it down, ladies; we haven’t lost our minds, and we’re doing a great job!

  To Zaria, Zadan, Zani, and Zach, thanks for being best buddies with my children! The nine of you give me so much insight for my writing…sometimes more than I can handle!

  To Mr. and Mrs. Usher, the best husband-and-wife teaching duo in the universe! You both watered the seeds of writing talent that you saw in me from long ago, and I hope you are proud as you watch those seeds grow. The educational foundation you gave me was invaluable, and it still grounds me to this day. I love you both!

  To Dr. Bowe and my Oakwood family, best years of my life! I pray to come back and serve in some capacity.

  Phoebe and Elizabeth, you two have been fantastic throughout each step of this process! Thank you for helping me navigate. Ellen, I’ll never forget our talk at NCTE 17. Thank you for being a voice of urgency for me.

  Gabrielle, thank you for your insights on this book. Look at what some Calvin Center kids did!

  Anyone who knows me well knows that I am a huge Kobe Bryant fan. I have come to believe that the five pillars of his famed Mamba Mentality—passion, obsession, relentlessness, resiliency, and fearlessness—can be applied to the pursuit of any task, dream, career, or hobby. Writing, in particular, requires all five, and the book you hold in your hands is the result of years of me writing just because I love it. It is the result of frustration, rejection letters, contest wins, discouragement, lost and broken jump drives, destroyed documents, joy, inspiration, and persistence. You are holding this book because I never gave up. So don’t you give up either! Pursue your passions with wisdom and tenacity so that one day, I’ll be holding your work—whatever it may be—in my hands!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Kelly J. Baptist’s “The Beans and Rice Chronicles of Isaiah Dunn” won the inaugural We Need Diverse Books short-story contest and is included in the middle-grade anthology Flying Lessons and Other Stories. As a result of her work in an urban school district, Kelly felt compelled to continue Isaiah’s story. Isaiah Dunn Is My Hero is her debut middle-grade novel. She is also the author of the picture book The Electric Slide and Kai. When she’s not actually writing, Kelly is usually thinking about writing…and dreaming of palm trees while living in southwest Michigan. She keeps beyond busy with five amazing children, who always give her plenty of story ideas and background noise to write to.

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