Birch and Lawrence **OLD**

Lawrence & His Mother

Across the dusty roads and forests, the black members of the community lived in their own little neighborhood to be shunned from the white members who lived across town. In a minimalist, overly vegetated, once-white house, a Negro woman named Virginia Addams prepared dinner for her son, Lawrence. She called his name loudly, and the 17-year-old looked up from the novel his nose was deep into. Lawrence was laying in his room, sprawled out on his stomach on his down mattress, a rectangular patch of golden yellow sunlight shining on his calves from the filthy window. The bed and the window were the only things in the room that hadn't been sold. What does she want now? he thought as he marked the book and closed it. "Yeah mama?"

"It's time for dinner!" she called, a pinch of annoyance in her voice. Lawrence sighed as he got up and headed to the kitchen. When he got there, Ms Addams stumbled to the table, a plate of food in her hand. Lawrence could smell alcohol from five feet away. "Mama," he asked nervously. "how much did you have to drink?"

"Just shut up and eat your damn food!" she snapped. Even though prohibition had already been lifted, Mrs Addams was still addicted to illegal moonshine. She had been selling everything that Lawrence had owned to pay for the alcohol. As a matter of fact, she sold every article of clothing that he owned except for an old hand-me-down striped shirt, a pair of faded overalls, and black loafers. She often came home drunk and pissed off, beating Lawrence with anything she could find. One evening, Lawrence was hit over the head with a holy bible. Even though she was a raging alcoholic, Lawrence loved her to death. But she loved booze more than she could ever love him.

Lawrence stared in disgust at the "meal" his mother had prepared for him. Field grass and leaves with moonshine poured onto it. Lawrence pulled a leaf out of the sopping mixture, smelled it, and grimaced. Through the thick stench of alcohol, the leaf's unique scent reminded him of poison. Maybe his mother was trying to kill him. "Mama," he said shyly. His mother, who was now lazliy laying on the living room chair with a jar of moonshine in her hand, gave her son an annoyed look. "What?" she snapped, sounding like Lawrence had already called for her a million times. Lawrence looked down. "I, I can't eat this, mama," he said softly.

"What?"

"I can't eat this," Lawrence repeated.

"Why?!"

"Because it might make me sick," he replied.

That's when he realized he had said the wrong thing. His mother stormed over and gave him a good backhander across the face. "i just runned outside and got this damned food for you, and you just gonna say that you can't eat it? After all the shit I did for you to git that damned food!" she screamed, flecks of saliva flying into Lawrence's face. "Mama, I'm sorry!" he cried. "I'll eat it, I swear!" His mother grabbed him by the shoulders, escorted him to the door, and threw him out onto the dust. "You and ungrateful lil' boy!" she yelled drunkenly. "Git outta my house!"

Lawrence lay in the yellow dust, speechless, wondering if what had just happened really had happened. A few moments later, his mother appeared at the door with the novel he had been reading. "You stupid lil' boy!" she yelled as she tore the pages of the novel to shreds.

"No, mama! Stop! Please!" Lawrence cried as he watched his most prized posession being destroyed. His mother threw the shreds to the ground, fluttering every which way as they fell. She then slammed the door without even giving her soon a scowl. Lawrence hurried over to pick of the pieces of the novel, but they were completley useless. He glanced into the reflection of the window in his house. Tears welled up in his wintry eyes, spilling over down his brown cheeks. That was one thing that made Lawrence stick out from all the black people in town. He had icy blue eyes. Everyone complimented on how beautiful they were, even one white woman said so. But he hated how people were complimenting his outer appearance. He wanted to be recognized for his personality.

One of those blue eyes began to swell, and Lawrence knew he'd have a shiner within a couple of hours. He didn't even bother to knock on the door again, knowing his mother would just scream at him to leave her alone. So, he ran off into the distance, not caring where his legs carried him. He headed towards the east, and traveled on the road for hours until the sky and clouds turned pink and the trees made a black silhouette against them. It wasn't long before his stomach started growling. The pear tree in the yard of a grayish-brown house caught his attention...