Aurora 2021 Mag

Briana Cramer

have the money. On Christmas, she’d open a box and they’d be in there wrapped up nice and tight, sparkling up at her. She’d smile, jump up and down, maybe scream a little from how excited she was to try them on. I used to take these shoes with me everywhere. They made me feel less alone, like Irene was always with me. Now they have holes in the bottom and the soles are falling off. She musta wore them so much they were just about to turn to dust. Poor Irene probably didn’t even know her parents were gonna get rid of them until she woke up one day and she couldn’t find her favorite shoes. Irene probably threw another tantrum, cried a lot, and fell asleep curled up in her blankie, with her thumb in her mouth. I don’t know if Momma had any siblings or if Irene ever really did exist, but I decided I was going to hold onto these shoes for her. The more I try to remember things about Momma, the more I forget. I don’t really know much about her. Dad doesn’t have any living family members, and I never got to meet them when they were alive. I asked my dad what happened to them, but he told me he didn’t know. He never had a family, just lots of people taking care of him until they didn’t want him anymore. After Dad told me that, I promised I’d always want him. He kinda smiled a little and said he would always want me too. But that’s the thing about us, we don’t just want each other. I know he needs me just as much as I need him. We’re all we got and, for now, that’s enough. I don’t have a pair of shoes for Momma. I don’t want them. I can remember her face, her voice, the way she would dance in the kitchen, her eyes closed like she wasn’t really there; she was somewhere else without me. She didn’t like me watching her. If she opened her eyes and saw me, her face would change and she’d pick up the wooden spoon she used to stir the pot and she’d point it at me, demanding I get out of her kitchen and out of her sight. Maybe she was embarrassed, or maybe she really did hate to look at me. I’d snap back into reality and run out of the kitchen into my room before she got even angrier and came after me. Dad was never home back then. He was always working, trying to pay the bills and make sure Momma and I had enough food. When he was home, Momma’s face never changed into that ugly snarl, and she never yelled at me. I think it was ‘cause she missed my dad. One time, I was playing with my Polly Pocket doll, and Momma must have thought I was being too loud. She came around the corner from the kitchen with her face all scrunched up and started to chase after me with her wooden spoon raised. Dad walked into the house, and Momma seemed surprised. She stopped chasing me and jerked the spoon behind her, and stuttered when she went to greet him. I didn’t stop to say Hi to Dad, I just kept running until I got to my room. Later that night I could hear my dad and my momma yelling at each other. I knew it was ‘cause Dad wasn’t supposed

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