In My Grandmother’s Eyes I Could Only Be SUNSHINE

August 5, 1998, dawned bright and blistering in Houston, Texas. The air was filled with the scent of freshly cut grass and the playful tunes of ice cream trucks. Summers here were hot, but for us '90s kids, that just meant more fun outside. Today, however, was different. Instead of playing football with my friends, was getting ready for my seventh birthday, eagerly anticipating the day's surprises.

Just as I was about to finish dressing, the phone rang. "I'm outside, is he ready?" a woman's voice asked. My mother's expression changed to one of visible discomfort, her face tightening with unease. "Yeah. I'm sending him out now," she replied, hanging up the phone.

My mother was always gentle and loving with me, showering me with gifts and affection. Seeing her upset hurt me deeply. She kissed my cheek, ruffled my hair, and gently pushed me towards the waiting woman. "I'll see you in a few.

I love you!" she said.

Reluctantly, I walked towards the blue Rav-4 parked at the curb. The woman inside, with her nervous smile, pushed open the passenger door for me. She often took me out, and sometimes I stayed the night at her place with Dedrick, who my mother insisted I call my cousin, though we referred to each other as brothers. This time, however, Dedrick wasn't there, making the ride feel a bit awkward.

As we drove off, glanced back to see my mother standing on the porch, her gaze intense and unwavering, a look she reserved for serious moments. With one last wave, we were on our way, leaving behind the familiarity of my home for whatever the day had in store.

This wasn't my first time going with this woman, she would come around often, always behaving nervous and awkward, and sometimes l even stayed the night at her place to play with Dedrick, who my mother told me I could not call my brother. I was to call him my cousin. Even though when I wasn't around her we called each other brothers. I hardly ever went with this woman alone though, most of the time Dedrick would be with us and it kept things from being too weird. As we drove away my mother stood on the porch and stared with her eyes tight, locked straight into that woman's heart, as she always did when | left with her. A deep, dark, gaze that I only saw when she meant business. One more wave back and then we were off.

The ride down Calhoun was always a bumpy one, even with my seat belt fastened I would lift up off the seat a bit. I counted the number of bumps and pot holes we'd hit on the road as I stared out the window looking away. "Hey baby! Happy birthday! I got you something!" She said to me as I continued to stare out the window trying to become as invisible as possible. Doing my best to ignore the fact that I had to ride in the car alone with this lady my mother always frowned upon. "Hey Shonne." I murmured out hoping that she'd just leave me alone. Shonne was a young woman, with a slender, petite, build and aslight baby bump. Five months pregnant with Bernard. She wasmuch younger than my mother, in her early twenties. Twenty-three to be exact. Much more animated than my mother, often loud, and spoke much differently than we spoke in my house. Shonne would cuss anybody out, anywhere, and didn't care what came with it. Rather it be a shouting match or a physical fight. She was with all the action and never held her tongue for anyone. Didn't hold back her fists either, if she felt disrespected she'd slap the taste out your mouth right then and there. The smallest comment could have been taken as disrespect so you'd had better be careful with your words when directed at her.

A wild woman, but for the most part, when I was with her, there was always an exciting rush, filled with a high, adrenaline boosting, story that came home with me. She was never mean to me, but the way my mother spoke of her I knew that she couldn't have been as good as she had wanted me to believe. My mother told me all about her, and the type of person she was. Warned me not to trust her or believe anything she said because all she did was lie. So listened to my mother and kept my distance, even though I never did quite understand why my mother would allow me to be around a person that was so untrustworthy. Still, I went with it, without question.

Whenever I went with her we never spoke much. She would take me on little dates to get food or hang out with Dedrick. Never together long unless I stayed the night, and even then we barely spoke. On very rare occasions, Shonne would take me to go and see my dad at his mom's house, if he would even show up. On the times he didn't show up, l'd just play with his sister Cynthia's kids for no longer than an hour at a time before we'd head back to drop me off at home. My mother didn't like me spending too much time at my Dad's mom house because it was what she called a Cornbread house. An old, raggedy house that smelled like mothballs and the front door was always wide open, giving the street a peek at all the clutter and junk that sat in the front room. Shonne and my mother could agree that they both didn't like me spending too much time over there, but every year when Shonne picked me up on Christmas to take me there, would always come home with a hundred-dollar bill.

We rode around in

silence for about ten minutes listening to the radio before Shonne

pointed out to me again that she had gotten me a birthday present. heard her the first time, but this was what I always did when I was with her, look out the window until we stopped somewhere and it was time for us to get out and do something else. I looked up and smiled a forced smile, always wanting to be polite even when uncomfortable. "Don't you wanna open it and see what it is Kendrick," Shonne asked. Pointing once again with excitement to the gift that she had gotten me. "Nope, I'll wait until | get home and open it with the rest of my gifts," I replied. Trying not to sound ungrateful because my mother had told me to be nice, just not to trust her. We passed up McGregor park for the third time and I had grown tired of riding around in the car on my birthday. Especially witha woman who agitated my mother. On top of that, words were scarce, and a huge shadow of awkwardness joined us for this ride along. One that seemed to be going nowhere after we had passed the same Churches Chicken, Whataburger, and now headed back passed McGregor park for the eighth or ninth time. I was ready to go home and play with my friends! It's my birthday!

There was only so much looking out the window counting trees, road bumps, and fast food restaurants I could take.

"Shonne. Where are we going," | asked. Usually by this time we would have made it to our destination. I'd be just about ready to start piecing together my eager goodbye's, false smiles, mentally prepared myself for the stale hugs, and already have my tissue in my pocket to wipe off the icky wet kisses on mycheeks. Unwanted affection from a plethora of people whose names I never planned to remember. "Just ride. We going somewhere fun," Shonne said. Hoping to reassure me. Unless she had been lost I couldn't imagine how we'd be going somewhere fun riding around in circles. A few more moments passed and the shadow of awkwardness grew bigger, and was now tapping me on my shoulder from the back seat. The same landmarks we had passed kept coming up and we hadn't moved far away from my house. "Shonne. Can you take me home? I'm ready to go home." I said with frustration.

Nearly an hour had passed and we'd still been riding around. Shonne didn't know me that well, but 1 knew her, or at least from what my mother had told me. It was time for her to learn that I wasn't stupid. If we keep riding around in circles we aren't ever going to get anywhere. "I just wanted to spend a lil time with you," She said. Then continued driving and I saw McGregor park again. "I don't want to spend time with you. Take me home," | exclaimed. This time I didn't care about being nice, the shadow of awkwardness had left the car as she pulled over and looked me straight into my face with what felt like daggers in her eyes. The beaming sun sent flames down. It began to feel like we were in a microwave. My eyes grew the same anger and aggression as hers. In the parking lot of Chevron with the

doors locked, ears burning, neither one of us were willing to back down. As if two lions filled with ire in this cramped cage that was a Toyota Rav-4.

I had seen that look before, but never geared towards me. This look usually came before the hands started to fly when I had seen her in disagreements with other adults. "You can't spend time with yo mama? I'm only driving around so they can set up for your surprise party at home." Her voice felt heavy, her words slow, almost as if she had to beg them to come out of her mouth. "You ain't my mama!" With a cracking voice, holding back tears that carried the weight of the world in the corners of my eyes. Deep in the reflection of her dead stare, I saw myself in someone else for the first time. "Because | can't buy you the stuff she can I ain't yo mama," Shonne asked. Her voice growing weaker and weaker. "I hate you!" | screamed. The anger outweighed the heartache built up inside of me as I watched the first tear I had ever seen fall from her face.

Seeing her cry for the first time I felt a gentle relief. My mind wouldn't move past all the times I had cried myself to sleep wondering what I had done that was so bad to make her not want me. In a way I felt even. I wouldn't allow myself to shed a tear in her presence because I believed that it had made me stronger than she was. So I stared her in the face, still wanting to go home, her face now dripping wet, snot fell down over her lips like a mud slide. Her lips quivering, as she sat there, searching for the words to say back to my intentionally straight face. "Okay. I hate you too," She whispered. Barely able to speak without crying over her words.

Wiping the tears and snot from her face, there were no more words to be said.

Regaining her composure, she threw the car into gear and we pulled out of the Chevron. I looked straight ahead for the rest of the ride. Counting the number of red Mustangs and black Corvettes I saw on the way home. Two and three.

Back at the same curb Ihad been picked up from, I looked out at my house, there was ribbon hanging, tables set up, balloons everywhere, and a great, big, Green Power Ranger moonwalk along with a piñata. With huge smiles, my friends, sisters, and my mother stood there waiting on me. "Surprise!" | got right out and ran to play with my friends. I didn't even grab the gift out of the car Shonne had brought for me. The party was filled with everything I had wanted, but this was the day that Ilearned that I hated surprises.

Truth be told, l always knew. There was no secret, and that was the secret I kept. From myself and everyone else, including the ones that believed that they were keeping the secret away from me. I decided to lock it away in ignorance's bliss to feel normal, to feel loved, to try and cope with feeling like the discarded remains of the runt in the litter. So l hid it in the silence, the crevices of my mind that were rarely visited.! packed it deep down enough that I would truly forget that it was what I was. Who I am. What I'll always be.

Back then, just wanted to feel normal. That's all. Just normal. The truth made that tiny desire of mine far too complex. So I hid, ran from it, avoided it at all cost. To me it was like the plague. Maybe even worse than the black death, because I wasn't ever afraid to die, but I did know that I was afraid to live with that horrible axiom. So yeah, I hid, cloaked it into my silence, the fake smiles, the insincere hugs. Became a master of pretend long enough to hold back the tears until I was all alone and felt safe enough to release what seemed like breaking dams that ran from my face on a nightly basis. I was good at keeping secrets, great even. It would later become one of my greatest captivators, but for now, this skill allowed me all the smoke screen I would need to suppress the deed that lingered in the shadows.

Besides, hush-hush with that much weight behind it was for big people, not for little kids, and especially not for a youngster like me that always need be on their best behavior, or else! As far as I was concerned, I had been pulled out of the fire, and should perform as such. With much acknowledgement and allegiance to whom had come to my rescue, any other frame of mind would be unmindful, absurd, blasphemous! This truth I chose without hesitation. The one with the best incentives, the least likely to lose, even if it meant that I had to die inside. My mind had been made and if I could hide the stains well enough this would be a clean Slate.

Three years would pass before the truth I had chosen to bury would dig its way back up from the hollow grave | left it to rot in on Dewberry street. A long way from the curb of surprises, and the bumps and potholes down Calhoun. Far across town where deer had the right away when crossing the roads, and at night the moon and stars would light up the sky, painting beautiful pictures of a hope filled world. In a welcoming, up and coming suburban neighborhood where all the houses were well-crafted brick homes. A place where fancy cars parked inside of key pad remote garages. Where the kids rode bikes in cul-de-sacs and wouldn't dare set foot on the lawn. Yard of the Month signs were proudly propped up for display. A cold, dead, slimy corpse of forgotten truths from which I had ran, found me here.

Down the street and around the corner where we met every day after school to start our games. Everyone had a bike, but if you had a motor scooter you were next level, an elite cool kid. Mine was yellow, with red flames on the side. It had a mirror, horn, and fancy little compartment box at the back where I kept my boost mobile walkie-talkie phone. My whole gang had one. We were the cool kids, practically made the popular table. Byron's scooter was blue, Myles had a red one, Enoch's was green, and Devin's was black. All it took was one chirp

"Brrrt! Where You At?" and the gang was pulling up to the spot ready to take on whatever team showed up to get shown out. Friday football in the street, always felt like a holiday.

The sun shined harder than ever, not a cloud in the sky, we loved that Texas heat. A gentle wind blew through every now and then to keep us all cool and motivated. A line of Gatorade, water bottles, sandwiches, and snacks guarded our scooters on the sideline. There, they had been propped up for the girls to lean up against as they watched on. Touchdown! Once again, another catch for me, thrown by Enoch the extraordinaire, he loved Steve Mcnair, and to us, played just like him. Talia, the girl | liked, smiled at me every time l caught a pass. That made the pain of tackle football on concrete seem nonexistent. I turned back and blew kisses to the sideline after every score. Such a show off I was, all for the fans. Fridays, they were perfect, nothing ever went wrong on Fridays.

A big win for the team, and a great stat line for me to talk my trash until next Friday. Bragging rights held weight at school, on the bus, at the movies, and anywhere else you'd see someone from an opposing team. After the games, we always did the same thing. Ride up to the pool and cool off with a swim.

Took a bite of my sandwich, flipped up my kickstand, and just before I could take off I heard a tiny voice behind me. "Mama said you gotta take me with you!" Tipanka was running towards me in her one-piece bathing suit, barefoot, with a duck float barely staying attached to her twiggy body. "No, you can't go, it's no room." As I turned the key and started my scooter. "But mama said..." She yelled out as I interrupted. "I said no, now go home and take that duck with you!" Laughter began to consume the air we had been breathing. Tipanka never took kindly to being the butt of a joke. Her teeth began to grind as the duck fell to the ground. All of a sudden the world felt like it was in slow motion, I could see the spit flying out of my friends mouths one by one, second by second as they bawled from laughter. She squints her eyes, a dead stare locked our gage, and before she opens her mouth my heart had run to hide for cover.

"That's why you not even my real brother!" As her lips closed and her words went away so did all the air in my lungs. Immediately, I learned that no matter how deep you bury who you are that it never leaves. Only stalks quietly, like a shadow. The rotting remains of forgotten truths had swept through and sucked up any laughter left that had previously filled the street.

I had lost pulse, my heart no longer held a beat. Silence and blank stares were the only things that would speak to me. I had never heard anything louder than the words she said that day. I stood there, stuck, as my sky began to fall. There were no more cool breezes to blow by, now the sun hit my back with all its might, edging closer and closer. I wished it would just melt me already and get it over with. When the silence broke could see mouths moving, but I heard no words. Puzzled looks began to form on faces of people who l once thought to be friends, that they were no more. Now they knew too much to still be considered good company.

With the little pieces of myself that could carry, managed to make it home. The tears ripped through the tiny glands in my eyes like tiger claws before I could even make it through the door. Gasping for air, yelling hysterically, as if someone had been beating me. My mother rushed down the stairs. "What's the matter?" She screamed. As she had always done with much emotion when she tended to me. proceeded to tell her every detail, step by step, exactly as it happened, still sniffling, huffing, and puffing. After I concluded, she stared at me a long while. A look I had never seen before. She didn't say anything to me, just looked at me, still, cold, distant. Her face turned, as if she had seen damaged goods. Without words, slowly, she walked back up the stairs, leaned over the railing, looked down at me one last time. "Well now you know." Then a door slammed. I've been standing outside that door ever since. I thought back to the car ride with Shonne. Everything was different. I wondered what would have been if she'd known that I've always known.