With the Fire on High

by Elizabeth Acevedo

  When we got home after the dinner, I asked ’Buela if she could lend me the money for the trip’s final deposit; I’ll put in a double shift at the Burger Joint to pay her back. But she told me she’d already spent her last disability check on bills and Christmas gifts for family back home. Not to mention, she donated the night of the Winter Dinner. She offered to return the gifts or ask a friend for help, but the look in her eyes was so sad and ashamed I patted her arm and told her I’d work it out. I thought about asking Julio for it, but when I was telling him about the dinner he cut me off to say that I inspired him and he’s sponsoring a holiday block party to raise money for the local school. I knew he’d say educating the undereducated is more important than traveling to Europe, and I wouldn’t even be able to argue.

  I push these thoughts away as I’m cleaning my station. Malachi comes over and leans his elbows near my burners. “Hey, Santi. I have a hookup to some tickets for the Disney On Ice show this weekend. You wanna go?”

  “Since when do you have Philly hookups?”

  He smirks. “Is that a yes?”

  He’s standing close to me and I wonder how he can smell so good when we’ve been sweating and dealing with food all class. “I don’t know, Malachi. I don’t really date like that, and this sounds like a date.” I wipe my area, making sure not to get too close to my burners or to Malachi—both would probably leave me singed.

  “See, that’s the thing, though, this wouldn’t be a date,” he says and smiles wide, showing off all his teeth. “I can get a couple of tickets. You can invite Angelica, her girlfriend, bring little queen Emma. Even your abuela can come if that will get you to say yes.”

  Dang. Malachi knows just how to get to me. Hooking up my entire family with tickets to something we’ve always seen in commercials but never in real life puts a lump in my throat. I finish with my station and grab my bag from the cubby. I clear my throat. “That’s really nice of you, Malachi. It means a lot to me. I could use some fun. What day?”

  “Don’t go getting soft on me, Santi.” But he doesn’t look at me. I think we are both so used to dissing each other that in this moment of sincerity we feel shy. “The tickets are for this Saturday.”

  “I’ll organize my people. You want help cleaning your station? Chef will get angry if he sees you haven’t unplugged your burners.”

  But Malachi waves me off. “Nah, you already made the kid’s day.”

  Complications

  I’ve always had a feeling Malachi was interested. Even if he hasn’t said those exact words. And to be honest, even if he had said those exact words I probably wouldn’t have believed him. If there’s one thing I learned from Tyrone, it’s that a person can say all kinds of things but it may not be more than that, just speech. Malachi’s actions, however, tell me time and again that he’s feeling me.

  And I don’t know what to do about it. It takes me the whole bus ride home to get the courage to bring it up to Angelica, and even then I hide it behind Malachi’s invitation.

  Angelica is immediately on her phone texting Laura. “Cool, she says she’s free so we’re both good to go.” I’m quiet on the walk to my house. Angelica comes inside with me. She’s going to take photographs of a new mural in Port Richmond this afternoon, and there’s a thrift store there that offers cash for secondhand clothes. She’s offered to sell a bag of old shirts and jeans for me.

  We’re upstairs in my room, where I’m tossing the clothes into a large plastic bag. I hope I can earn enough to make a dent on what I owe for the trip. I have a ton of Babygirl’s clothing that doesn’t fit her anymore, and I throw in two brand-name shirts I got last Christmas that I hope will sell for a good amount.

  “That shirt is cute; why are you giving it away?” she says, grabbing a Doc McStuffins shirt from the top of the pile.

  “Because it doesn’t fit Babygirl. Unless you’re having a child sometime soon?” I say, raising an eyebrow at her.

  “Oh, yup, that’s at the top of Laura’s to-do list, get me pregnant.”

  Angelica plumps up the pillow and leans back on my bed. “So, is this like a double date this weekend?”

  “What? No. In fact, he even invited ’Buela and Babygirl.”

  “Ohhh. That’s deep. He’s already trying to get in with the family.”

  I stop what I’m doing. “I think he’s serious about going out with me. It’s just, you know how I am with boys.”

  Angelica grabs a shirt from my hands and folds it. “You are scared of being hurt, girl. And you never think you have time for yourself.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t have time for myself. And I don’t have time for boys.”

  Angelica and I fold silently side by side. When the bag is full she ties it up tight and I walk her downstairs. At the doorway she pauses. “Maybe it’s not about time, Emoni. Maybe it’s about having things on your terms. Being with Malachi? It doesn’t have to look like anything except what you two make it. And if anyone can take ingredients that shouldn’t work and make something delicious out of them, it’s you. Give my goddaughter a hug from me.”

  Pride

  It’s Wednesday—two days left before the money is due. I finally swallow my pride and approach Chef Ayden. “Chef Ayden, I was wondering if I could speak with you?”

  Chef Ayden looks at me with a grin. Ever since the Winter Dinner, Chef’s been smiling more, giving people high fives. I know he feels relief that the majority of the money was covered. A relief I do not feel.

  Angelica was able to sell my clothes for forty-five dollars. ’Buela left a big-faced fifty near my bed this morning, and I’m not sure where she got it; her disability check doesn’t come again until next month. But that still means I have two days to find a hundred and eighty dollars.

  “Emoni, the fund-raiser of the century. What can I do for you?”

  I smile back at him although I feel sick inside. How can you be a good fund-raiser if you didn’t reach your goal? “I was wondering if I could maybe get a bit more time to pay the deposit? I’m still short some.” I slide the hundred dollars his way. He looks down at the bills then up at me.

  “Oh, Emoni. I wish I’d known you needed assistance. We had some students ask for help early on and we were able to figure out a payment plan, and even some extensions, but it’s a bit late to scramble and make changes. . . . I’ll have to talk to Principal Holderness.”

  But I can tell from his face he isn’t optimistic.

  “Does this mean if I can’t find the money, I can’t go?”

  He slides the bills over to me, then pats my hand. “Of course you’re going, even I have to pay for it myself,” he says. But the look in his eye is the same as ’Buela’s when she told me she didn’t have the cash. Two days just isn’t enough time for people to rearrange their holiday money for something that isn’t a necessity. He pats my hand again. “We just have to come up with a creative solution. I’ll talk to Principal Holderness. Hold on to your money for now.”

  Thursday morning I wake up and everything in my body wants to stay in bed. I want to hide under my blankets and pretend the world doesn’t exist outside these walls. But Babygirl wakes out of a dream screaming and I pick her up to soothe her. It takes fifteen minutes to get her calm enough to dress and feed, and I know I won’t have time to dress myself in anything other than the leggings and T-shirt I slept in. When ’Buela asks me something about washing the dishes I almost bite her head off, I’m in such a bad mood, but I catch myself before I say something I’ll regret. If I can’t go on this trip it’s no one’s fault, especially not ’Buela’s.

  Angelica must be able to tell how I’m feeling because she pulls her arm through mine as we walk to the bus stop and tries to distract me with celebrity gossip. When we are finally on the bus, I use my phone as a way to hide my face from her. I don’t want her to see the tears in my eyes. I check my email and there seems to be a message from Aunt Sarah—her name is in the subject line—but it’s a different address than the one I’m used to seeing;
almost as if it was rerouted from a website.

  I open the email and the first thing I see is a dollar amount:

  $300

  Note: Hey, niece. Sorry this is late. I know you told me in your last email the fund-raiser would end earlier this week. I pooled this together from all your other aunties and uncles and cousins; I hope you can still use it. I loved the pictures you sent from the dinner. I’ve never been anywhere farther than Raleigh, but I gather everyone needs some pocket change when they leave home, right? We are all so proud of you. Nya would be proud of you, too.

  Love,

  Aunt Sarah & the Family

  I’m shocked, and it must be visible because Angelica grabs my arm.

  “Emoni, what’s wrong? You’re trembling.”

  Aunt Sarah is my email auntie, the strongest connection to my mother, my kitchen confidante, but she’s never sent money before, never organized that side of the family to send me a gift. I look out the window at the clouds parting in the same way my bad mood is, sunlight peeking through both, and I know for a fact there’s more than one kind of magic in this world.

  On Ice

  I’ve seen commercials for Disney On Ice my whole life but never thought about going. And still, as we wait in line outside the Wells Fargo Center, I feel as giddy as the little kids jumping up and down in anticipation. From her stroller, Babygirl keeps pointing at everyone and everything. Laura and Angelica hold hands, trying to look all cool and like they’re only here because I asked, but I know they’re excited, too. Malachi is the funniest of us all, bouncing up and down on his toes to see if we’re moving closer to the front of the line, making goofy faces at Babygirl, and asking every Disney character who walks past us for a picture. ’Buela declined his invitation and said she was going to meet up with a friend instead. “You young people go have fun with your Disney. I’m going to drink a cafecito and gossip.”

  As we approach the entrance, Malachi fishes out the tickets from his pocket and steps forward. Angelica reaches down to fuss with the cover of Babygirl’s stroller. “I been meaning to ask you, how did Tyrone take this news?”

  I don’t look at her when I shrug, and she shoves my shoulder.

  “Emoni, please tell me you told him,” she hisses at me, but I don’t have a chance to say anything—not that I was going to say a damn thing—before Malachi is ushering the rest of us forward.

  But Angelica won’t quit. She whispers low enough so that only I can hear her. “Emoni, didn’t he lose his shit last time because Babygirl was in the same house as Malachi?”

  I pull her closer to me and make sure Malachi and Laura are speaking with each other before I say anything. “Angelica, he flipped out last time because he didn’t like the idea of me dating. I know he has Babygirl around other girls. I know he dates. It’s not his weekend, and if I want to take my daughter to Disney On Ice, who is he to say I can’t?”

  Angelica shakes her head and throws up her hands. Laura must sense her girl being all dramatic because she stops mid-sentence to look at us. Both Angelica and I paste smiles on our faces.

  “Everything okay?” Malachi asks when we catch up with them. I smile bigger, too big. He’s got to know something is bugging me, but I’m not going to let Angelica’s words water the seed of guilt blooming in my stomach.

  “Everything is fine. Thank you for this. I know Emma is going to love it. Right, Babygirl?” At both of our faces peering down at her, Emma gets shy and burrows her head into the side of her stroller. I laugh. “Trust me, she’s excited. That’s her excited face.”

  Malachi laughs. “Cool. I’m glad this worked out. My aunt gets extra tickets and she sees it every year.”

  “Your aunt?” I say. We are finally at the gate. “I thought you said you had a ‘friend’ with a hookup?”

  “I never said ‘friend.’ My aunt works here. She’s my hookup. We’re actually about to see her now. Smile, Santi.”

  Side by Side

  “Hey, Auntie Jordyn.” Malachi leans down to hug a little woman in a black collared shirt and slacks. The woman has a walkie-talkie in one hand, which she pats against Malachi’s back when he bends down to hug her. She still has her arm around his waist when she turns to the group. He points at each of us in turn. “Let me introduce you to Angelica and Laura. And that’s Emoni. And the little queen in the stroller is Emma.”

  Auntie Jordyn looks up at him with a gruff expression. “Boy, what did I tell you about pointing at people? Just because your momma isn’t here doesn’t mean you forget what she’s taught you!” But as quick as she frowned she’s smiling and letting Malachi go. “And this little one, well, isn’t she precious? I’m glad these tickets could go to good use. With my kids out the house so long, my complimentary tickets usually go unused. I’m glad this year someone who can actually appreciate it will be watching.” She pats Malachi on the cheek and I instantly love her. Malachi’s smile is clearly inherited from his mom’s side because the woman looks just as happy and sweet as he does when he smiles.

  “Thank you, ma’am. We’re really looking forward to it,” I say.

  She gives me a look that I don’t know how to read. “Malachi talks about you all the time. I’m glad to finally meet you.”

  I don’t look at Malachi as I nod.

  “Well, you all go on in. I have some paperwork to do in my office, so I won’t be able to join you. But make sure you enjoy!” We enter through one of the first-floor gates and look for the letter-and-number combination that indicates our row. As I replay the conversation something twists in my stomach. Malachi talks about me to his aunt?

  Before I know it, my thoughts are absorbed in the music, the colorful lights, the characters in their large costumes as they skate and twirl and jump in the air. I don’t have any words except to say it’s magical. And I’m just as into it as Babygirl. She bounces along in my lap and Angelica’s lap, clapping and pointing. I wish I could do this for her more often, give her these kinds of adventures.

  Malachi leans over, his breath warm on my ear. “Smile, Santi. This is the greatest show on earth.”

  “You got the wrong show, homie. I think that saying was for a circus show, not Disney.”

  “I wasn’t talking about what’s happening over there,” Malachi says, tugging on one of my curls. “I was talking about what’s happening right here.” He links his fingers with mine, and I’m glad Babygirl is in Angelica’s lap, bouncing and bucking. I’m so glad my hand is free so it can be inside of Malachi’s.

  “You’re ridiculous,” I say, laughing. “What does that even mean?”

  Malachi doesn’t answer. And I don’t pull my hand from his for the rest of the show.

  Chivalry

  Auntie Jordyn lets us out through a side door, which means we avoid the rush. We are immediately sucker-punched by cold air and I pull the plastic cover tighter over Emma’s stroller. One of the things that I hate most about winter is that even though it’s only four thirty, it’s already dark out, and the temperature dropped twenty degrees in the two hours we were inside so now it’s barely in the double digits.

  I try to blow heat onto my gloved hands. Malachi is still inside speaking with his aunt. Laura and Angelica are snuggling into each other’s necks. “You two go ahead. Laura’s house is in the opposite direction so it’s not like we’re walking to the same train.” Angelica gives me exactly three seconds to reconsider before she grabs Laura’s hand and flounces, literally flounces, away with Laura laughing behind her.

  “Goodbye, Emoni. Thanks for including us,” Laura says over her shoulder. I don’t blame them for not wanting to stick around. I like how light Laura makes Angelica feel, how happy they are to hold hands and just love.

  And then Malachi is standing beside me, and he’s tucked my hand into his, and he’s holding the stroller with his other hand, and I’m a web of knots. The feelings of this growing crush tangle with the feelings of guilt and doubt about whether or not I should pursue this. But I wish I could strip myself of my past
and enjoy who I am right now.

  “My aunt ordered us a ride-share so we don’t have to walk in the cold when we get off at your bus stop.” So that’s what they’d been in there discussing—where I lived.

  “I don’t have a car seat for her so I’m not sure that will work,” I say.

  But Malachi surprises me. “I know. We requested a car with a car seat.” It’s not the kind of thing I would imagine him thinking about.

  We are quiet as we wait, and when the car pulls up I unbuckle Babygirl and Malachi holds open the door for me before folding up her stroller. We ride the twenty minutes home in silence, listening to R&B on the radio. My house is dark when we walk in. I close the door behind me and turn on the living room light. I’m so glad Disney tired Babygirl out and she was asleep in the car before the first song finished playing on the radio. It’s too early for her to go to bed, but I don’t have it in my heart to wake her up. I’ll just deal with her midnight energy when it comes. I take her upstairs and lay her down in her crib. When I come back down Malachi is using the bathroom.

  I’m rinsing out a glass in the sink when I hear him follow me into the kitchen. I turn to ask him if he wants some water, but his arm that’s slipped around my waist and touching bare skin startles me. I freeze for a moment, and it’s not until I hear the glass shatter against the tile floor that I realize it fell from my hand.

  We scramble back from each other and I listen to Babygirl’s monitor to make sure the noise didn’t wake her. When I’m greeted by silence from Babygirl, I drop to my knees to pick up the shards of glass. Malachi follows me down and we are nose to nose for one second before I scoop up some big chunks and carry them to the trash bin. Malachi grabs the broom in the kitchen corner and takes care of the smaller pieces.

  “You’re good with kids,” I say when we’ve cleaned up.

  “Yeah, my mom used to say the same thing. Even when he was being an asshole I had patience with my little brother. Emoni, are you bleeding?”