What Momma Left Me~Renée Watson

What Momma Left Me

Our Father

....................

I don't have many good memories of my daddy.

He was hardly home.

And when he was,

He was mad

At my momma,

Or me,

Or my younger brother, Danny.

Always yelling about what wasn't done right,

What wasn't done at all,

What he was gonna do.

He bought me gifts though.

Always on Christmas, on Valentine's Day,

And on my birth day.

He gave me this diary two months ago,

When I turned thirteen.

I never thought about writing in it until now.

I need a place to put all these secrets.

They're too heavy for me to carry alone.

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Grandma says I am just like my momma. She says I look like her, talk like her, act like her. My chocolate eyes, crayon-brown skin, and skinny, knock-kneed legs are the same as momma's when she was my age.

"Serenity, girl, if I didn't know better I'd think this was a picture of my Loretta," Grandma says, holding up my school photo. I think she is sad but also glad that even though she can't see her own child anymore, she can always look at me.

Danny, my brother, looks like my daddy-tall, dark skinned, and skinny no matter how much he eats. He is one year younger than me. He'll be starting the seventh grade. I'm starting the eighth. I don't mind us being just like our parents on the outside. but I'm scared that maybe we're like them on the inside too.

Danny has my daddy's temper. just yesterday, he punched the wall because he couldn't find his hat. He was mad at me, thinking I hid it. He made a mess looking for it-clothes thrown all over the floor. Then he remembered that he had put it in the closet. Busted knuckles for nothing.

Danny also has my daddy's style-expensive, name-brand shoes, baggy jeans, oversized shirts. Momma always said "Boy, you're a carbon copy of your father." She never sounded happy when she said it.

Sometimes I wonder if all children are like their parents. I think about having a different momma and a different daddy. I think, maybe if I wasn't the daughter of Loretta and Daniel Evans Sr. everything that happened this summer would change.

But I am Serenity Evans and nothing could change that.

I think sometimes that my daddy wants everything to change too. I know he doesn't like being a father. He's never said it, but I just know. I know because there are no pictures of him holding me when I was a baby. I know because he never came to any of my school plays or recitals. He is always gone-running the streets, my momma would say. She made excuses for him, trying to convince us that he really did care, but I think even she stopped believing her lies.

I think momma realized that no matter how many good qualities there are in my daddy, there are more bad. One night I woke up thirsty, I got out of bed to get a drink of water. I stopped just before I got to the kitchen when I saw my daddy and Danny sitting at the kitchen table. They were stuffing small plastic bags with green plants. Daddy said "One day, Lil Shorty, I'll take you out with me and show you how this green brings you this green." He took out a wad of money of his pocket and tossed it on the table. Danny picked up the bills in amusement.

I turned around and went back to bed. I never told anyone. I knew my momma would just cuss and fuss at my dad and then he'd get mad and they'd fight. Then my dad would leave for a few days, like he always does after they fight-to give my momma some space and clear his head, he says. Whenever momma would question him about where he was staying, he'd tell her as long as the rent was paid she didn't need up worry about it. And they'd argue again and he'd leave, so I just kept my mouth shut about Danny helping my daddy.

I'm really good at keeping secrets. I still haven't told any of my momma's.

And I haven't told my daddy's secrets either. I never told momma about the woman daddy would visit after he picked me up from school. and I never told that sometimes he and his friends smoked in the house when she was gone to work.

I knew better to tell these things to anybody. No good would come of it. And besides, momma always told me not to go telling our family's business. "What happens in this house, stays in this house," she'd always say.

Not anymore.

Now that our momma's gone, our secrets are getting out and our house is empty because two kids can't live alone. And this is another reason why I know my dad doesn't care about us. I know because he haven't come home. I don't even know if he knows my momma is dead. I wonder what he will do when he comes home to an empty house.