The Move

*Whistling of the Indiana wind*

The sun is setting and I’m steady trying to beat it with everything that I was suppose to get done today. I hear my mom’s footsteps pounding the stairs as she walks up in anticipation to see if I’m done unpacking my stuff. “You okay in there sweetie? I wanted to show you how big are basement is. Plenty of space for friendly gatherings.” *Crash* I was so startled by my mother that I broke one of my prized possessions near and dear to my heart, a souvenir she bought me on the way to her vacation in Denmark. She always loved to buy me thi-- *Door squeaks* “Keith, I’m not understanding your silence dear” my mother says in her vowel squeezing played out Philadelphia accent. “There’s no trees here, no noise. No jungle with your masses of people. I’m trying to comprehend the silence ma, I’m sorry.” I soon took a deep breath and realized how unsatisfied I was with the move. “You know, things will change because you’re entering a new phase in your life; the transitioning phase where everything is fresh and you’re overwhelmed Keith, honey.” She always breaks into which interlude is being played out in my life. In a sense, this is the rebirth but then again everything that really matters is dead. I wouldn’t dare utter those things to her because we both need each other to be strong and anything that might be too fuzzy to understand, one of us has to make some kind of sense out of it. “Marriage, huh?” I question within my deep sigh. “Randall loves you so much, son. He’d do anything for the both us to protect this household and make sure that this move is nice and easy for us.” she says uncomfortably. Adjusting to a stepfather was like buying a broken record. Hoping to achieve the feeling of a complete family but there’s so many pieces that will never make it the same. “I guess I’ll understand it when I get there then.” I replied to her. My mom awkwardly leaves the room to try her best to enjoy the new empty house that she could not wait to fill with all the new design and crafting techniques she picked up out of learning to cope.

“Keith, let’s go to that new spot on 48th! We need new scenery and I need to show off my new fit.” Janice yells from the top of the stairs. I looked up and chuckled at her and said: “Too many guys checkin’ for my baby sis, I’m going to have to pass on that.” I remember it like it was yesterday. This place called ‘Jazz’ was the new joint that everyone was checking out back in Philly and my sister, as always was on the go with her sassy mouth and outfit to match. She was smooth sailing and flowed with the sway of life but it seems like everyone molded to her everywhere she went. She got into this gig where she wanted to explore and so she traveled here and there all over the states and soon, she’d make her way out of the country again.

I go downstairs and peep out the basement in disinterest. There I see my mother with joy filled eyes mapping out what was going to go where. “Orange. The couch is orange. The rug is red. The walls are a dirty off white. We can make this into a beautiful sight to see, ma.” She looks at me in awe and hugs me so tightly that I could feel her bones crack. *stomp, stomp, stomp.* Of course, here he is to ruin the family moment. “Ah, I see you’ve checked out your mother’s new project of a woman cave?” Randall was from the pits of Chicago and him and my mother met an intermission of one of her many career affairs. He addressed her by asking her where the bathroom was but in her eyes, he was definitely flirting with her. He was taking apart a door and of course, my mom instantly concluded that he was a handyman. “To the left by the painting of the big brown hands” She instructed him. When he came back, she insisted on inviting him to an event that she hosted every year that helped raised money to fund for resources for deaf kids. My father was deaf and she was very much so attached the sign language deal.

“Maybe, we can all go back visit Pennsylvania soon. I know this is an abrupt move for you, Keith and I don’t want to send so much of you into shock.” Randall says with genuine concern. I walked away as if my mother raised an ill mannered child. Everything has burned in the fire along with my deep respect for my elders. I examined the kitchen. So closed in, I thought. No community. There was no island that sat a few chairs alongside of it. No porch patio with the double doors in front of the dining table. No window in place as the centerpiece of the cabinets. Very old-fashioned and small. No breathing room for me and my sist-- *thuds* I dropped my cell phone. I’ve become so clumsy and nervous since we moved as if we’re surrounded by paparazzi. I hadn’t checked my phone at all that day because I knew that I hadn’t kept in much company before leaving Philadelphia. People soon forget and move on with their own crazy lives. I, without true purpose, touched my phone and as it lit up, I felt my chest cave in from the home screen picture of the one thing that burned in the fire that I wished I could’ve burned with--my baby sister, Janice.