The
first thing I thought when I woke up was it was Saturday, and Saturday meant I
didn’t have to go to school, and I usually got to see Walter. The first thing I
heard was my mom’s muffled voice coming from another room in the house. Then I
heard a man’s voice. I figured it must be Bennie --one of my mom’s boyfriends.
He was the only one she ever let stay overnight. Mom said she left my real dad when I was a
baby, so I had no idea who he was or what he might look like.
I lay there for a few minutes, staring at the peeling, pink paint on the window sill. I reached over and flicked some of the loose paint off, revealing a pale shade of green on top of a royal blue. I wondered if any other thirteen-year-old girls ever lived in this room, and what they were like. Walter said I was lucky to have my own room.
Harley, my dog, trotted over to me and started licking my face. We took Harley in after one of mom’s boyfriends left him at our house. I think he’s part husky; he looks like a wolf. He sticks to me like glue. I think Harley likes me better than he likes anyone else.
I could tell from the way Mom and Bennie talked that they were not arguing, so I decided it was safe to get out of bed. I shuffled into the kitchen and saw my mom and Bennie sitting at the kitchen table. There was a scale, a box of Ziploc baggies, and a big bag of weed sitting in front of Mom and Bennie. Mom had been selling weed for a long time, but she stopped hiding it from me when I started middle school last year. One time, she told me that she figured I was old enough to know the truth, and then she told me I shouldn’t tell anyone or else I may end up living in a foster home. Walter told me he would see to it that I’d never have to live in a foster home. But I wasn’t so much worried about living in a foster home as I was about my friends finding out my mom was a drug dealer—that would be too embarrassing. After spending a lot of weekends at home while all my friends went to the movies and stuff, I finally realized they already knew about my mom’s drug dealing. Of course, I found that out the hard way after my best friend’s mom wouldn’t let her spend the night. My best friend’s mom was afraid the cops would raid our house in the middle of the night. After that, me and my friends just met at the mall on the weekends. I was ok with that because I figured it was better than nothing.
As I made my way towards the pantry, my mom said, “Morning, Josie!” Mom was always full of energy, even first thing in the morning.
As I opened the back door to let Harley out, I replied, “Hey, Mom. Is that my shirt?”
She was wearing a pink, rhinestone t-shirt, about two sizes too small, which had the words Girls Just Wanna Have Fun on the front, a denim mini-skirt, and hot-pink stilettos. The front of the t-shirt was tied in a knot so it showed off her cheap belly-button ring. Her platinum blonde hair was teased toward heaven, and her chocolate roots were starting to show. My mom was skinny and in her early thirties, but she dressed like she was eighteen. She embarrassed me when she dressed like that, but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to cause one of her crying spells.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe. Is it? You don’t mind, do you?”She poked her chest out and looked down.
“Nah, I don’t care,” I lied, “I think I spilled pink Kool-Aid on it last week anyway.”
Bennie never looked up from the table. He never really spoke to me much unless he wanted me to make him a sandwich or something. My mom always said that Bennie looked like he stepped out of “Starsky and Hutch.” I’d never seen that show, but I guessed I needed to so I’d know what she was talking about. Bennie’s stringy, sandy hair was a little past his shoulders and he had what my mom called a “porn moustache.” He was wearing bell-bottom jeans, a white t-shirt, a tan leather jacket, and a big gold chain around his neck—the same thing he wore just about every day.
“Hey, Bennie,” I said, just to make him speak to me.
“Hey,” he grunted without looking at me.
“Josie, honey,” Mom said, “I’m gonna need you to make a run over to Walter’s house around noon. It’s eleven o’clock now.”
Bennie looked up at me. Our eyes met for about two seconds, then he looked back at the table and just stared at it for several seconds before he went back to bagging weed.
I put two cherry pop-tarts into the toaster and said, “Sure, no problem.”
Walter was the old man who fronted the weed for mom. He gave the weed to her, she sold it, I brought the money to Walter, and he gave me more weed to bring back to Mom. I did this every Saturday, like clockwork. Mom said it was easier for me to bring the money to Walter because no one would think I was a drug dealer.
Walter was okay, I guess. He was tall—taller than Bennie. He limped when he walked, and Mom said that she heard he lost part of one of his legs in a motorcycle accident. She said it served him right. I had no idea why she didn’t like him. He was bald, but not because he was old. I think he shaved all his hair off. Going to his house was not a bad thing because Walter was always nice to me. Plus, I got to get out of the house for a little while. I always knocked on Walter’s back door instead of the front—we had a secret-code-knock. Sometimes, Marcus was at Walter’s house when I’d go over there, and he’d answer the door. Marcus was a friend of Walter’s, and he was a scary looking guy. Marcus was younger than Walter and much taller. His arms were covered in tattoos and bigger than my legs. He even had a couple of teardrop tattoos under his left eye.
Right inside the back door was Walter’s kitchen, and it was always clean: not like our kitchen. The cabinets were painted yellow, and usually a bowl of fruit sat on the kitchen table —sometimes it was full of red apples, sometimes bananas, and sometimes both. Walter usually asked me if I was hungry, then he’d nod toward the fruit.
“Go on and getcha some,” he’d say.
Walter even let Harley in the house because Walter had a big dog too (a Rottweiler, I think), and they sniffed each other while I waited. A small TV sat on the kitchen counter, and lots of times Walter flipped the channel to cartoons. I watched the cartoons while Walter took the money into the next room. Then, he’d come back with a brown bag, and I’d put it in my backpack. I never looked in the bag, but I knew what was in it. Sometimes, he’d even give me a ten dollar bill and tell me that I shouldn’t spend it all in one place. I usually stopped at the diner on the way home, and I’d buy a burger and an ice cream. See, that’s why I said that Walter is okay by me.
After the poptarts were toasted, I let Harley back in and made my way to the living room sofa. I turned on the TV and shared one of my poptarts with Harley. From the sofa, I could still see and hear Mom and Bennie.
Bennie pulled Mom into his lap and said, “Gonna take me out tonight, Sugah Mamma?”
She giggled and said, “Sure, we had a good week. How about we celebrate at the ice house?”
“I’ll go anywhere’s you go, as long as you’re buyin’,” he laughed as he played with her belly-button ring. She giggled and squirmed in his lap. I turned up the volume on the TV. Harley growled, and he looked at mom and Bennie.
“It’s ok, boy. He’s not hurting her. They’re just playing,” I whispered.
Harley laid his head down between his paws and closed his eyes.
I purposely interrupted, “Hey, Mom. A bunch of my friends are going to the mall tonight, can I go?
Quickly, I could tell that she was frustrated. She pushed Bennie’s hand of off her stomach, sighed deeply, and said, “Not tonight, Josie. We’re going out, and I don’t want to have to pick you up.
“Oh, it’s ok! I’m sure I can get a ride from someone,” I said.
She closed her eyes and shook her head like she did when she had her mind made up, and said, “Not tonight, honey. You need to stay here and watch the house while we’re out. I’ll take you to the mall sometime this week, ok? Just you and me on a girl’s day out. How’s that sound?”
“Like it makes me want to throw-up,” I whispered.
Mom raised her voice and walked toward me and Harley, “What’s that, honey? I can’t hear you over the TV.”
“I said, I can’t wait to grow up,” I raised my voice, but I never took my eyes off the TV. To keep myself out of trouble, I shoved half a poptart in my mouth.
“Don’t rush it, honey. You’ll always be my little Rosie Josie,” she said while pinching my cheek.
I lay there for a few minutes, staring at the peeling, pink paint on the window sill. I reached over and flicked some of the loose paint off, revealing a pale shade of green on top of a royal blue. I wondered if any other thirteen-year-old girls ever lived in this room, and what they were like. Walter said I was lucky to have my own room.
Harley, my dog, trotted over to me and started licking my face. We took Harley in after one of mom’s boyfriends left him at our house. I think he’s part husky; he looks like a wolf. He sticks to me like glue. I think Harley likes me better than he likes anyone else.
I could tell from the way Mom and Bennie talked that they were not arguing, so I decided it was safe to get out of bed. I shuffled into the kitchen and saw my mom and Bennie sitting at the kitchen table. There was a scale, a box of Ziploc baggies, and a big bag of weed sitting in front of Mom and Bennie. Mom had been selling weed for a long time, but she stopped hiding it from me when I started middle school last year. One time, she told me that she figured I was old enough to know the truth, and then she told me I shouldn’t tell anyone or else I may end up living in a foster home. Walter told me he would see to it that I’d never have to live in a foster home. But I wasn’t so much worried about living in a foster home as I was about my friends finding out my mom was a drug dealer—that would be too embarrassing. After spending a lot of weekends at home while all my friends went to the movies and stuff, I finally realized they already knew about my mom’s drug dealing. Of course, I found that out the hard way after my best friend’s mom wouldn’t let her spend the night. My best friend’s mom was afraid the cops would raid our house in the middle of the night. After that, me and my friends just met at the mall on the weekends. I was ok with that because I figured it was better than nothing.
As I made my way towards the pantry, my mom said, “Morning, Josie!” Mom was always full of energy, even first thing in the morning.
As I opened the back door to let Harley out, I replied, “Hey, Mom. Is that my shirt?”
She was wearing a pink, rhinestone t-shirt, about two sizes too small, which had the words Girls Just Wanna Have Fun on the front, a denim mini-skirt, and hot-pink stilettos. The front of the t-shirt was tied in a knot so it showed off her cheap belly-button ring. Her platinum blonde hair was teased toward heaven, and her chocolate roots were starting to show. My mom was skinny and in her early thirties, but she dressed like she was eighteen. She embarrassed me when she dressed like that, but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to cause one of her crying spells.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe. Is it? You don’t mind, do you?”She poked her chest out and looked down.
“Nah, I don’t care,” I lied, “I think I spilled pink Kool-Aid on it last week anyway.”
Bennie never looked up from the table. He never really spoke to me much unless he wanted me to make him a sandwich or something. My mom always said that Bennie looked like he stepped out of “Starsky and Hutch.” I’d never seen that show, but I guessed I needed to so I’d know what she was talking about. Bennie’s stringy, sandy hair was a little past his shoulders and he had what my mom called a “porn moustache.” He was wearing bell-bottom jeans, a white t-shirt, a tan leather jacket, and a big gold chain around his neck—the same thing he wore just about every day.
“Hey, Bennie,” I said, just to make him speak to me.
“Hey,” he grunted without looking at me.
“Josie, honey,” Mom said, “I’m gonna need you to make a run over to Walter’s house around noon. It’s eleven o’clock now.”
Bennie looked up at me. Our eyes met for about two seconds, then he looked back at the table and just stared at it for several seconds before he went back to bagging weed.
I put two cherry pop-tarts into the toaster and said, “Sure, no problem.”
Walter was the old man who fronted the weed for mom. He gave the weed to her, she sold it, I brought the money to Walter, and he gave me more weed to bring back to Mom. I did this every Saturday, like clockwork. Mom said it was easier for me to bring the money to Walter because no one would think I was a drug dealer.
Walter was okay, I guess. He was tall—taller than Bennie. He limped when he walked, and Mom said that she heard he lost part of one of his legs in a motorcycle accident. She said it served him right. I had no idea why she didn’t like him. He was bald, but not because he was old. I think he shaved all his hair off. Going to his house was not a bad thing because Walter was always nice to me. Plus, I got to get out of the house for a little while. I always knocked on Walter’s back door instead of the front—we had a secret-code-knock. Sometimes, Marcus was at Walter’s house when I’d go over there, and he’d answer the door. Marcus was a friend of Walter’s, and he was a scary looking guy. Marcus was younger than Walter and much taller. His arms were covered in tattoos and bigger than my legs. He even had a couple of teardrop tattoos under his left eye.
Right inside the back door was Walter’s kitchen, and it was always clean: not like our kitchen. The cabinets were painted yellow, and usually a bowl of fruit sat on the kitchen table —sometimes it was full of red apples, sometimes bananas, and sometimes both. Walter usually asked me if I was hungry, then he’d nod toward the fruit.
“Go on and getcha some,” he’d say.
Walter even let Harley in the house because Walter had a big dog too (a Rottweiler, I think), and they sniffed each other while I waited. A small TV sat on the kitchen counter, and lots of times Walter flipped the channel to cartoons. I watched the cartoons while Walter took the money into the next room. Then, he’d come back with a brown bag, and I’d put it in my backpack. I never looked in the bag, but I knew what was in it. Sometimes, he’d even give me a ten dollar bill and tell me that I shouldn’t spend it all in one place. I usually stopped at the diner on the way home, and I’d buy a burger and an ice cream. See, that’s why I said that Walter is okay by me.
After the poptarts were toasted, I let Harley back in and made my way to the living room sofa. I turned on the TV and shared one of my poptarts with Harley. From the sofa, I could still see and hear Mom and Bennie.
Bennie pulled Mom into his lap and said, “Gonna take me out tonight, Sugah Mamma?”
She giggled and said, “Sure, we had a good week. How about we celebrate at the ice house?”
“I’ll go anywhere’s you go, as long as you’re buyin’,” he laughed as he played with her belly-button ring. She giggled and squirmed in his lap. I turned up the volume on the TV. Harley growled, and he looked at mom and Bennie.
“It’s ok, boy. He’s not hurting her. They’re just playing,” I whispered.
Harley laid his head down between his paws and closed his eyes.
I purposely interrupted, “Hey, Mom. A bunch of my friends are going to the mall tonight, can I go?
Quickly, I could tell that she was frustrated. She pushed Bennie’s hand of off her stomach, sighed deeply, and said, “Not tonight, Josie. We’re going out, and I don’t want to have to pick you up.
“Oh, it’s ok! I’m sure I can get a ride from someone,” I said.
She closed her eyes and shook her head like she did when she had her mind made up, and said, “Not tonight, honey. You need to stay here and watch the house while we’re out. I’ll take you to the mall sometime this week, ok? Just you and me on a girl’s day out. How’s that sound?”
“Like it makes me want to throw-up,” I whispered.
Mom raised her voice and walked toward me and Harley, “What’s that, honey? I can’t hear you over the TV.”
“I said, I can’t wait to grow up,” I raised my voice, but I never took my eyes off the TV. To keep myself out of trouble, I shoved half a poptart in my mouth.
“Don’t rush it, honey. You’ll always be my little Rosie Josie,” she said while pinching my cheek.
Josie's Deliverance by Michelle Lansdale is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.