Jesse Jeravoké

“Jesse!”

“Yes Mom?”

“Your Dad and I are going for an important get together. Take care of Victoria. We will be back around eleven at night.”

“Okay Mom.”

My Dad then entered the room.

“Bye, champ. I’ll come back and we will play a video games because tomorrow is off.”

“Yay!” I exclaimed. Playing video games with my Dad was the coolest thing. I know boys my age went out and partied late night but I did not like that. I rather spend my nights with my family. We played cool video games that my Dad bought whenever he was away from home.

“Vicky?” My Dad called out.

My sister came out running. She was a Daddy’s girl. She leapt into Dad’s arms. She was 10 years old and I was 18.

“Vicky, Mommy and I are going out for some important work. Do not irritate your brother and no TV. Okay?”

“Yes Daddy.”

They left and Vicky and I played for some time. She liked playing with Barbie dolls and always wanted me to play with her. I loved her a lot, so I played with her. It irritated me to play with Barbie dolls but I played nonetheless. Anything for Vicky.

At 9 I put Vicky in her bed. She always fell asleep quickly in her pink room. Then I did the dishes so that my mother wouldn’t have to do it in the morning and then cleaned the house a bit so that I didn’t fall asleep till Mom and Dad came.

I kept waiting for them. Even when it was 12, they hadn’t returned. Another hour passed and they still did not turn up. I was starting to get worried but I couldn’t do anything.

At half past 1, I couldn’t stay awake any longer. I slept figuring that when the bell rang I would wake up.

It was about three in the morning when the bell rang. I quickly rushed downstairs to open door for Mom and Dad. I was not expecting anyone else so I was surprised to see a Police Inspector standing there. I let him in. Maybe he had come to the wrong house.

“How may I help you Inspector?”

“Is this Jeffery Jeravoké’s house?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Who are you?”

“I am his son – Jesse. What’s the matter, Inspector?”

“Jesse, I am sorry to tell you that your parents have been victims of a very horrible car crash. They are no more. I came here to give you their belongings that we found. I am so sorry.”

“Thank you Inspector.” I wanted to cry but my Dad had always taught us not to cry in front of strangers. No matter how hurting it is, do not show your weakness to anyone.

As soon as I closed the door behind the Inspector, I broke down. What was I going to do? Mom and Dad were never coming back. What was I going to tell Vicky? How would she take it? How would I take care of her? How? She was just 10!

With these questions in my mind, I cried through the morning. I couldn’t bring myself to sleep. The day I had been so looking forward to, I now dreaded. How would I get Vicky and I through this life without any guidance? What? How? Why?

I was a mess on the floor. Luckily it was a Sunday, because I don’t think I could get through school, had it been any school day.

I got up and cleaned myself, cried a little and then composed myself so that I could wake Vicky up before she asked me about Mom and Dad’s whereabouts.

“Get up Vicky!”

“Why are you waking me up? Where is Mommy?”

I knew this was coming. It was Mom who always woke Vicky. Today it had to be me.

“Get up Vicky!” I repeated, not quite ready to face her about this yet.

“Okay.”

She got up and freshened up. By the time she came down, I prepared her favorite breakfast for her.

“Where are Mommy and Daddy? Didn’t they come back last night?”

“Vicky, please eat.”

“No, I am not eating till you tell me where they are.”

“Vicky, please.”

“No, Jesse. Tell me where are Mommy and Daddy.”

“Vicky, Mom and Dad are never coming back.”

“Why? Have they gone to live in a new place without us? Please tell me where they are, I’ll get them back.”

“Vicky, there was a car accident last night and…”

“And what?”

“and… they… they died.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“You are lying, right?” she asked, desperately trying to delude what she heard as a lie.

“No Vicky. They are never coming back.”

And then it happened. What I feared the most, happened. She started crying. I tried to stop her from crying, but she didn’t stop or rather she couldn’t stop herself from crying. And then I broke and started crying, too.

After a while, I tried to get Vicky to eat something, but as I had predicted, she refused. Somewhere during her breakdown, she got tired and slept where she was sitting on the floor. After much effort, considering my own weak state, I was able to pick her up and place her on the sofa.

I went to Mom and Dad’s room. There, I sat on their bed and looked around the room, looking at my parents’ memorabilia. The bed was covered with beautiful lavender sheets, my Mom’s favorite color. The sheet was covered with big purple flowers. The bed sheet complimented well with the walls, which were dark purple. Mom had the ability to make simple things beautiful. But now I would never get to see her beautiful decorations.

Sometime during my gazing at each and everything in the room, Vicky came and joined me on the bed. She silently wept as I held her, feeling exactly what she was. I looked at Vicky, wondering how in the world I was going to take care of her. She was a little girl who needed a lot of care, care which I could not take.

She fell asleep again.