Stay Ready

I sat up and looked out the window of the bus we sat on. I looked over at my mother who laid sleep with my little brother's feet strewn in her lap. His head lied in my lap as he snored lightly. I smiled and kissed his cheek. We were almost at our destination, New Orleans. We were from Louisiana originally, just a different part, Opelousas. We were moving to New Orleans to start over. Opelousas had to much history for us. To much bad history. I stretched out my arms careful not to wake my brother before slowly lifting him and laying him the other way. I stood and made my way up to the front where the driver sat. He was an old Caucasian man who looked tired and worn out.

"Excuse me sir." I said, tapping him on his shoulder.

"Yes baby?" He coed in his thick New Orleans accent.

"How much longer before we'll get there?"

"About fi'teen minutes."

"Thank you sir."

He nodded and instead of returning to my seat I gathered our things. Which was only two suitcases a piece. I drug them back over to where we were sitting. I sat down and waited patiently for the bus to arrive. When the bus stopped, I tapped my mother.

"Yes baby?" She said groggily.

"We here."

She nodded and picked up my brother. I grabbed the suitcases and followed her of the bus. We looked around, we were definitely in the hood of the city. I sighed and looked to my mother who had pulled out her little red flip phone and was calling someone. The conversation was brief, only containing our location and brief greetings. We stood there for about ten minutes until a grey Toyota pulled up. A dark skin man who was about 6'4 got out and hugged my mother, careful not to squish my brother. He smiled at me before sticking his hand out.

"I'm Michael. A close friend of your mother."

"Dexandra. The daughter of your close friend." I shook his hand.

He chuckled "Nice to meet you."

"Same."

"Here, I'll take those." he said taking the luggage from my hands.

I looked over to my mother who was cheesing extra hard. I smiled at her happiness. It's rare when you see my mother smile like that anymore. I climbed in the back seat with my brother and buckled our seat belts. I don't know how this nigga drives. And I'm not risking anything. He got in the car and began to drive. The whole ride he and my mother talked and caught up. Turns out they were old sweethearts until he had to move down here. No wonder she trusted him so easily. After about fifteen minutes we pulled up to a small house in a broken neighborhood. I rolled my eyes. We could have done a little bit better in neighborhood choices. I got out, grabbing my brother. In front of the house was a little broken picket fence that was supposed to be white but was a light grey. There was a small wooden porch with little rocking chairs in the front. The steps were cracked and I believe something is living under there. I opened the screen door then the normal door. I looked around at the bare house. The inside was nothing like the outside. The kitchen had granite counter tops and stainless steel appliances. The cabinets and drawers were a pretty wood. I walked to what seemed to be the living room. There was carpet covering the ground with a small fire place in the corner. Cute. I walked to the back. My brother was starting to get a little heavy. The back two rooms were simple. Just rooms with walk in closets. There was a bathroom back there too. I turned back around and started upstairs. There were two bedrooms. Both with windows and walk in closets. I decided I wanted the one in the front of the house. The other smelled like weed and piss. There was a bathroom in the middle of the two at the end of the hall. There was also an open space on the right side of the railing. I assume it could substitute as a chill spot. I walked back downstairs where my mother and the man were talking. I cleared my throat.