Round of Applause

Chapter 1: Ricochet

Only 3 months have passed, and in the back of my head was the sound of the glass shattering and the loud popping noise. And the small grunt Kennan made as he fell to my feet. My kids screaming, and the sound of the world crashing down on me. Everything was falling apart. I had to go out and find work at a day care center and depend on my mother for help with money and other expenses. I had to worry about my 4 year old daughter Sara who has asthma, and my 5 year old son, Emmanuel who is starting to get into trouble in his Kindergarten class.

His teacher calls me and tells me that he fights and gets up out of his seat, but he is so intelligent and gets good grades. Over the months I have seen that he is almost exactly like his father. The eyes, nose, lips, soft Puerto Rican hair, skin, attitude….his purpose. But my daughter Sara was almost like me. The eyes, lips, mouth, and nose. But she was a mixture of Kennan and I. She had curly/puffy brown hair and caramel skin. But me, I am just black. I am brown skinned, permed healthy thick black hair that I leave out sometimes, brown eyes, regular figure, just regular. I had an education, graduated high school and everything. And then I met Kennan, and he was the best thing that happened to me. He had a car, money, the brains, the looks, everything. He was the same age as me so I thought I could easily live the life he was living.

And then the rest happened. You know him being a drug dealer and constant danger. But he was so good to me most of the time. He never hit me, or yelled at me. He just cheated on me a few times but he was drunk. Even though it hurt me I never hated him for it I just forgave him because he was really trying. And now I am proudly wearing the engagement ring on my left hand. It pains me because this was the last thing he shared with me, so I wear it in memory of him. Kennan was such a beautiful person, the way he spoke to me. And no matter how I get mad at him, he never raised his voice at me…ever. And I always wondered why.

I was sitting down on the play mat at the day care center next to a little girl named Joanne. She has short black hair that is in twists and has hair bows all over it. She kind of reminded me of how I was when I was a little girl. Quiet. It was story time and I had to get everyone in the mood along with my other co-worker Jewel. She is a young mother of 3 and struggles much more than me but I understand her.

My phone vibrated in my sweater pocket and I got up. “I’ll be right back you guys! Ms. Keisha has to use the bathroom.” I said. The kids responded by saying bye to me like I was leaving forever. I went to the bathroom and answered the phone. It was my son’s Kindergarten teacher Mrs. Miller. She is a young African-American woman in her thirties, who is all natural with her hair and skin. I admire her beauty and her wonderful life so much, but she probably looks down on me. “Yes, Mrs. Miller.” I said onto the phone. “Ms. Cruz.” She said. I took Kennan’s last name even though we never got married. “There seems to be a problem with Emmanuel. He’s saying that his stomach hurts and he wants to go home.” She told me.

I sighed, “I’m at work, and I can’t come and get him now.” I said. “Did he tell you this morning how he was feeling?” she asked. I thought back to this morning when he woke up and started crying about how his tummy was feeling bad. I gave him some warm water and sent him to school. I didn’t know it was that serious. “Yes, he did mention it, but I thought he would feel better by the time he got to school.” I said. “Well, obviously that’s not the case. He’s in the nurses office, so come and get him when you can.” She said. “Listen, ma’am I can’t leave work at the moment.” I said again. She sighed and hung the phone up.

I know I can’t leave my baby in the nurse office. I know I have to go and get Emmanuel. I left the bathroom after tucking my phone away. I went to the manager’s office, and spoke to the manager of the daycare, Amara. She is 56 years old, but has bright vibrant skin and a healthy white smile. All of her sons are in college, something I know I can’t pay for, for my kids. “Hi, Amara.” I said with a smile. “Hey, baby. How you feeling?” she asked me. “Not so well,” I said. Honestly I didn’t want to be at work, but I know I needed to. “What’s wrong?” she asked me. “I don’t know, I feel a little light headed.” I said to her making my voice sound as if I am really in pain. “Do you need to take the day off?” she asked me.