I took a careful sip of the steaming coffee, the warmth reaching down to my toes. I sighed contentedly, nothing could beat a cup of coffee on a cold winter day. Just then, the barista brought my freshly baked scone and placed it next to my newspaper. She flashed her familiar smile at me, and like everyday, I thanked her and tipped her. Once I had finished the newspaper sudoku, I felt the need to use the restroom. As I stood up, a wave of dizziness hit me suddenly and I grabbed the windowsill for support. The barista, Linda, noticed and rushed over with a face full of concern. “Jasmine? Are you alright?” She asked. “Just fine, I’m just a little dizzy is all.” I answered while pushing myself off of the wall. That was a bad decision. The dizziness hit me once more, and I tried to grab onto something, anything, but my vision failed me. I hit the ground hard, and the last thing I remember is Linda screaming.
On the rickety table in front of me sat a stout little cake, with a misspelled “charlotte” written in fat squirts of icing. My little sister hopped onto my lap and proudly blurted, “look charchar, I wrote your name in icing!” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she missed several letters. Our mother muffled a laugh behind us, before she started to sing an elegant happy birthday, which was promptly ruined by lily’s belting. At the end of the song, I blew out the candles and said “so who wants a slice?” “I do!” Shrieked my sister.
Once I had finally tucked lily into bed, I tiptoed to the kitchen, to wish mom goodnight. As I entered the kitchen, I saw mom standing next to the leaky sink, holding two glasses of champagne.
“I figure, since this is your 18th birthday, your old enough to try a sip. It’s also your final night before you move out.” Her bright smile faltered there.
“Mom, you know how important university is to me, it’s the dream. And you know this scholarship is the chance of a lifetime”
“Oh I know honey, but as your mother cut me some slack, my daughter is leaving home.”
“Don’t worry mom I’ll come back every holiday, and I’ll bring souvenirs for lily.”
“I’ll toast to that” mom said, handing me one of the glasses.
“To coming back” I said smiling
“To coming back” my mom repeated, teary eyed.
In the morning, everything hurt a little more than yesterday. I looked around my childhood room, the overfilled closet, the dirty white desk, the crappy mattress, and the small window that overlooked the town. It hit me then and there, that this was it. I shoved away the feelings, and finished stuffing more clothes into the broken suitcase. When that was done I took a final look and walked out of the bedroom. As I walked down the hall, my feet avoided all the creaky parts of the floor instinctively, I knew this house like the back of my hand. Lily’s room was next to mine, and when I peaked my head in I saw that she was fast asleep in my old “My Little Pony” pink blanket. I silently closed her door, and made my way to the kitchen to make breakfast. I began to hum to myself as I cracked some eggs into a pan. While those were frying, I took out a couple slabs of bacon and placed them in the same pan. Finally, I dropped yesterdays bread into the toaster, and went to wake up lily.
Mom had to work several jobs and was already out at her earliest job of the day, garbage pickup for the city. Her next job starts only half an hour after, but she’ll have enough time to come back and see me off. Part of the reason I so desperately want to attend university, is so that mom can stop working. Ever since dad died, she’s had to work so hard to keep the roof over our heads. I take a deep breath and force my hurting heart out of my head, and smile big when I walk into lily’s room. “Rise and shine.” Her reaction is to roll away from me and groan into her pillow. I march over to her bedside, and rip the blanket from her. “Time to get up, breakfast is ready.” “Charrr I don’t wanna and it’s the weekend.” “But I made your favourite, bacon and eggs.” She sat up immediately at that. “So c’mon, go brush your teeth fast before the food gets cold.” She practically leapt from the bed and sprinted to the bathroom, leaving a disaster of pillows in her wake. I sighed and made her bed, then followed her to the bathroom, to inspect her breath. I declared that she was free to eat, and she squealed like a true 5-year-old. By the time I got to table, she had already devoured half her plate, and had inhaled at least two glasses of milk. But as I was reprimanding her, mom came in through the front door, a gust of cold win following her.
“I’m here, I’m here!” Mom said as she shrugged off her light fall coat. “Ooh charlotte did you do bacon and eggs? But how did you afford the ingredients?”
“I borrowed some money from my old manager.”
“Be sure to pay him back, and thank him” mom said as she sat down in one of the mismatched chairs.
I glanced at the clock, and I gasped “oh shoot! I’m gonna miss my bus!”
“It’s ok it’s ok, don’t panic, you’ll make it in time. Here lily take your sisters backpack and go drop it off at the buss stop. We’ll meet you there.”
“Okay mama” lily said while slipping into her sneakers.
“Charlotte get your shoes on, and follow your sister. I just need to grab the old camera.”
I jogged up to my little sister who was waving at me from the top of the street. When I got closer I realized that she was holding something behind her back. She revealed that it was a drawing of me and her, with glittery letters over top spelling “I will miss you charchar” I bent down and gave her a big hug, and that’s when I heard the sound of that old camera. The photo was supposed to be a nice smiling picture in front of the bus, but my mother decided to take it right then and there. When mom showed it to me, the tears almost came again, but I managed to hold them back for the sake of my sister. I gave mom a big hug too, and she gently stroked my hair. The bus came barely a minute later, and I grabbed my luggage and climbed up the stairs. But right before the doors closed I looked back, and I smiled. It wasn’t a goodbye smile, but a ‘see you later’ one.
I danced and leapt across the stage, sweat slicking my skin, and a triumphant smile painting my face. As I bowed graciously, the crowd erupted with applause. I laughed and thanked the excited audience, and then proceeded to calmly walk into the curtained back stage. The moment the spotlight left my still smiling face, I fell to my knees. The built up nerves hit me like a bus. I let out a shaky breath, and let the tears roll down my face. The old janitor, came to my side and rubbed circles on my back. “Well done, my boy.”
“Mama?”
“Yes honey?” I replied distractedly.
“What’s the Birds and Bees?”
I knew this day was coming, yet still like any mother I was startled.
“Maya honey, let’s go sit on the couch okay?”
Once maya had curled into a little ball on the armchair, I took a deep breath and asked her: “what do you think the birds and the bees are?
“Sarah told me that it’s when a girl and a boy go and have special playtime, but only with each other.”
“That’s almost right, expect that the boy and girl are much much older, and they both have to want to play.”
“When can I bird and bee with a boy?” Maya asked in a way that only a child might.
“When you’re older.” I said smiling.
The psychic’s tent was made of large drapes, held together by mismatched shoelaces. I turned to Sarah intent on shooting her a look of ‘seriously?’ But before I could voice my complaints, she gripped my hand, sticky from corndogs, and dragged me through the dangling strings of beads. The interior was a different world than the crowded, child-filled, carnival just outside. In here, the air was still and smelled like a mixture of strong perfume, candle wax, and tacky nail polish. In the middle of the poorly lit space was a woman who appeared old with eyes that appeared ancient. She sat in a deep seated chair, tucked into a worn wooden desk who’s surface was empty; except for a spherical glass ball and a deck of tarot cards. Beside me sarah nearly burst out laughing at the sight, but she swallowed it down with the help of her sugary coke. The old woman gestured at the two cushioned chairs, and once we were seated she took my hand and gently turned it to examine my palm. After maybe a full two minutes of silence, the old woman spoke for the first time: ‘Why do you want to die?’
