The Fulfilment of a Promise
by Rita Bates.
RJ Bates is currently working through the Creative and Critical Writing MA. She is a morning person, conscious about eating foods that will fuel her body and mind, but will never give up drinking red wine. She enjoys a challenge, mental or physical and loves people-watching, because sometimes if lucky enough, she witnesses random acts that would otherwise go unnoticed.
The Fulfilment of a Promise
I loved spending time with Ashanti. She was double my height and captain of the volleyball team. She was always saying her younger brother, a year below me in school, was a constant pest. She hated being the older sibling, like me, having to lead by example and look after him, as though she were his mother. She warned me about new tasks to watch out for.
‘What kind of tasks?’ I asked.
‘Hey turds! Slow down! And stay on the sidewalk!’ she yelled at our siblings. ‘The kind our mothers don’t want anymore, like walking them to school and back.’ She pointed at Ian, Emily, and Owen.
‘She’s not my real mom, and my dad said that walking Emily and Owen to school is a reward for behaving and following instructions.’
‘HA!’ Ashanti opened her bag and handed me a caramel. ‘Listen up runt.’
Runt was Ashanti’s nickname for me. My dad called me Little Bird. People were always pointing out that I’m small compared to other kids my age. I didn’t mind being Ashanti’s runt. She let me come around at recess and sit with her friends. Most of the time I just pulled out my book to read, not really knowing what they were talking about, which mostly included boys.
‘Eye contact, over here.’ She bent her head down in front of mine. ‘Lily, you can’t always have your head in a book.’
I was flipping through the pages, counting the chapters, as we walked. I liked setting goals. I could read at least three chapters every day if they weren’t too long, and more on the weekends. This book had twenty-four chapters. I would finish it in a week.
She grabbed hold of my shoulders and shook me. ‘Books are important, but so are other things.’ She tossed my mop of curls. I heard the static shock as she pulled her hand away from the top of my head. I imagined my hair standing as high as Ashanti. ‘You’re not going to grow any taller if you don’t get some exercise, fresh air and sunshine. You don’t get that sitting inside, reading.’
‘I’ll spend more time outside. I promise.’
‘You’d better!’ Ashanti smiled down at me. I smiled back. ‘So, what are you reading right now?’
‘The Sword in The Stone,’ I said.
‘T.H. White. Good one.’
I slipped my key in to the apartment door and pushed it open slightly, then waited. There was no sign of Mother. Emily and Owen were giggling and pulling at something inside my backpack.
‘Cut it out,’ I said.
‘I just want to see what you signed out of the library this week,’ Emily said. Owen was still giggling.
‘You could ask,’ I replied, swinging the bag off my back. ‘What are you waiting for? Get inside.’
‘Don’t talk to us that way,’ Emily said and pushed her way past me, nearly knocking me over, holding Owen’s hand to be sure he followed her and not me.
‘Emily,’ I called out, ‘Daddy said I’m in charge, remember?’ But Emily wasn’t listening. She dropped her bag with a thud, removed her sneakers, and turned to face me, sticking her tongue out. Owen was still giggling.
‘Sit and watch TV, until I make us a snack.’
Owen immediately obeyed, since we rarely got to watch the only television in the apartment. Mother, that’s what she made me call her, allowed us to watch television before school and weekend mornings, but that was it. Occasionally, Dad would let us sit with him if Mother was out. She believed television would turn our minds to mush, but not hers. She watched the television every chance she got.
I hurried to the bedroom we shared, carrying all our stuff, and placed the backpacks in the closet. Mother hated clutter. I was running back down the hall with the lunch pails when I heard a loud crash, a pause, followed by Emily screaming and Owen crying.
‘What happened?’ I ran the short distance to the kitchen.
‘Owen wanted the last pop. I told him to put it back, but he didn’t listen,’ Emily managed to spit out between sobs.
‘Liar, Liar,’ Owen yelled, ‘you were going to drink it and not share. You poured it all in your glass.’
‘Stop it, both of you. It doesn’t matter now.’
I dropped the lunch pails on the kitchen table. The floor was covered with shards of glass. Brown liquid was spread across the kitchen, including the walls and cabinets.
‘Don’t move,’ I said.
I rushed to grab the broom and dustpan. I noticed while sweeping that the bottoms of both Emily and Owen’s pants were spotted and stained. I worked quickly, but I wasn’t quick enough. I heard the door to the apartment open.
Mother walked into the kitchen and started yelling and shaking her fists.
‘This is your fault,’ she said.
Emily and Owen were crying again. I instinctively dropped the broom. Mother’s eyes were wild. She lurched forward to grab hold of my shirt. I made for the dining table. We ran circles around it. I was becoming faster, training with the other kids at school for cross-country and track and field, but if I was going to escape, I only had one option. I ran through the kitchen hoping she wouldn’t follow. I swung the apartment door open and ran past the elevator, to the stairway. I jumped down the steps two and three at a time until I reached the bottom, never looking back. I didn’t stop until I reached the library, five city blocks from home.
I collapsed behind the building and placed my head between my knees. My lungs were stinging as I gasped for air. It was then I noticed my blood-soaked socks. I felt nauseated. Saliva filled my throat. I tried to swallow but couldn’t. I was still trying to catch my breath. I tried breathing through my nose deeply with my eyes closed. I placed my hands over my chest. My heart banged against my palms.
It wasn’t my fault, but she wouldn’t want to hear my excuses. I was responsible for Emily and Owen when she and Dad weren’t around. It was my job to look after them and keep them happy and safe. I had failed. I was still breathing hard but that became secondary to the throbbing in my feet. My face was hot and wet.
‘Are you okay?’
I looked up. Standing above me was a woman older than Mother. She smelled of tobacco, her habit confirmed by the cigarette package in one hand and a matchbook in the other. I recognized her as one of the librarians. Her hair was pixie short with wisps that framed her face and her glasses dangled from a chain around her neck.
‘Are you okay?’ I heard her ask again. She knelt down in front of me, noticing for the first time that I had no shoes, my socks were bloodied, and shards of glass clung to the cotton fabric along the soles of my feet. She gasped.
‘Where are your shoes?’
I couldn’t speak.
‘Can you tell me your name?’
But I didn’t answer.
My breathing returned to normal, but my throat stung like I’d been clawed by a cat and my heart beat like a drum roll, reverberating in my ears.
‘Don’t move. I’ll be right back!’ She dashed off in the direction of the staff entrance. When she returned, she was with another woman. They hoisted me up by lifting under my arms.
‘Don’t put your feet down,’ she instructed, ‘we’ll carry you in, so not to push the glass further into the bottom of your feet.’
I nodded my understanding, but still said nothing. My legs ached and the throbbing in my feet was much more intense when I was upright. I had to concentrate to keep my feet off the ground. Inside the library they took me into the staff room, an area of the library I’d never been before. They set me down on one of the couches.
‘Put your feet up here.’ The woman pointed to the coffee table in front of the couch. I hesitated. Mother would never allow us to place our feet on top of furniture. ‘It’s okay. We have to take a look at your injuries.’
How was I going to explain what happened? I couldn’t tell her the truth. Why had I run to the library in the first place?
‘Lily, is that you?’ At the mention of my name, I looked over. It was Ms. Kennedy, the librarian from the children’s department. ‘Lily, what happened?’
‘I…I…’ I wasn’t sure what to say. The truth wasn’t an option. That would get me into more trouble at home. I took a deep breath, wiped the tears from my face. I didn’t like lying but I had become good at it. ‘I was on my way home from school and I took a shortcut through the park.’
‘By yourself?’ Ms. Kennedy asked.
‘Yes.’
‘You know it’s dangerous to go through that park alone in this neighbourhood, even during the day.’ Her gaze softened. My lips trembled. She placed a reassuring hand on my knee. ‘Go on.’
‘A boy was hiding behind the slide. I didn’t see him until it was too late. I tried to outrun him but he caught up to me. He wanted my shoes. He said they would look good on his sister. I took them off and threw them as far as I could, and then I ran here. I wasn’t watching where I was running, and I must have stepped on a broken bottle. I just wanted to get away.’ A partial truth.
The woman with the pixie cut returned to the staff room carrying a box.
‘Lily, you know better than to cross through that park without your parents or another adult, even if it is a shortcut. Promise me you won’t to do it again.’
‘I promise, Ms. Kennedy.’
‘Which of your parents can we call?’ She asked.
‘No, please don’t!’ I was nearly yelling, my voice sounding husky. ‘My parents are at work and…’ I could feel my heart thumping. I had to think quickly. ‘I already called my dad from the phone booth at the corner.’
‘And…what did he say?’ Ms. Kennedy asked.
‘He said to come here. I told him I was okay. He said he would get me after he finished work.’ Why had I said that Dad would come? What if they made me stay here, in this room, until he came, which he wouldn’t because I lied about calling him? ‘I’m fine, really.’
Ms. Kennedy frowned, but nodded to the security guard, so he left. She took the box from the other woman and opened it. ‘Let’s see how bad the cuts on your feet are.’ She winced as she prepared to remove my sock. ‘This is going to hurt I’m afraid.’
She slowly removed each sock. I wanted to scream, but I didn’t. Instead I gripped the sofa cushions on either side of me, and bit down on my lower lip. It took Ms. Kennedy almost an hour to remove all the shards of glass and tiny stones from the bottom of my feet, using tweezers. Thankfully, none of them were deep enough that I needed stitches. She disinfected the wounds and wrapped my feet in gauze. Once she was done, she opened the fridge door and handed me half a sandwich.
‘I can’t let you go until we’ve filled in an incident report. I’ll be right back.’
I gratefully took the sandwich. I hadn’t gotten as far as a snack before I had to run for my life, and I was starving. I swallowed it, my stomach still grumbling, wanting more.
Ms. Kennedy returned with a clipboard and a pair of socks in one hand and pink, high cut sneakers in the other.
‘These should fit you,’ she handed them to me. ‘They’ve been in the lost and found for months, unclaimed. Now they belong to you.’ She smiled. ‘Let’s finish with this incident report so you can get home.’
My feet no longer throbbed. My hunger forgotten. I answered all of Ms. Kennedy’s questions as I slipped on my new shoes.
‘When do think your Father will be here, Lily?’
‘Soon.’ I had to figure out how to escape, and not get myself into any more trouble. ‘Can I wait for him in the library?’ I asked. ‘I’d like to pick out some books before my dad gets here.’
‘It will hurt when you walk.’ She looked me over. ‘Okay, but sit if your feet hurt.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, standing up, gritting my teeth and bracing for impact as I prepared to experience the pain of blood rushing to my toes.
I got up from the couch and hobbled out of the staff room walking on the heels of my feet. I spent the next twenty minutes pretending to look for books, maneuvering the aisles, slinking my way to the bookshelves closest to the main entrance. I pulled a book from the shelf and opened it. I pretended to be reading, but I was really looking to see who was near the circulation desk. I didn’t want Ms. Kennedy to see me leaving alone. There was a lineup of people checking their books out, and a crowd around the librarian’s desk. I shoved the book I had back into its place and slipped in stride alongside an elderly couple leaving the building.
I vaguely remember the pain of walking home. I couldn’t take my eyes off the pink, high cuts that now belonged to me. When I got to the apartment, the door was unlocked. I peaked in before entering. Mother was in the kitchen. I removed my new shoes in the corridor outside the apartment, checking the soles of my feet to be sure I didn’t leave a bloody trail leading to the bedroom. Emily was sitting on her bed playing with her doll.
‘Where did you go?’ she asked.
‘The library.’
‘Hey, where did you get those?’ she was pointing to my pink shoes. ‘Did you steal them?’
‘No! I didn’t steal them. I got them from the lost and found at the library.’ I placed the shoes under my bed.
‘But you didn’t lose them. They don’t belong to you.’
‘Ms. Kennedy gave me permission to have them. They’re mine now.’
Owen ran in announcing dinner. Emily jumped off her bed and skipped out of the room. I slithered slowly and silently down the hall. Emily and Mother were laughing at something Owen said.
Mother never stayed angry long. Her moods altered like a crisp wind changing direction between buildings. One minute she was spewing terrible words and swinging her fists, locking me in my room, the next she was crying, or laughing. I never got the crying part, because it should’ve been me crying, not her, since I was the one being terrorized.
I sat in my chair at the dinner table. I listened to Mother ask Emily and Owen about their day. When dinner was finished, she told me to clean the dishes and cover Daddy’s dinner. He wouldn’t be home until much later.
Dishes put away, I headed for the bedroom. I passed Emily, Owen, and Mother snuggled on the sofa, reading. I pulled out my homework and sat on my bed. I wished Daddy was home so I could have someone to share my day with, too. Instead, I would have to wait until morning when I could tell Ashanti I’d done what I’d promised and got some exercise and fresh air.