All I Want Is Everything. Daaimah S. Poole

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      “Tell them the Philadelphia Gas Works.”

      “One moment,” I said as I flashed my index finger up and ran upstairs to get my mom. She was stretched out across the bed with her uniform still on from the night before.

      “Mom! Mom! Mom, wake up. The gas company is at the door.” She shot up and ran downstairs. I followed her. She opened the door while I stood behind her.

      “Can I help you?” she asked, trying to act calm.

      “Yes, Miss, we’re about to dig up the street and shut services off at this address.”

      “What’s going on? Why? I don’t understand,” she said.

      “Miss, we are about to turn your gas off for nonpayment.”

      “No, there has been a mistake. I paid my bill,” she said.

      “No mistake, Miss. Here is a copy of the bill. I was going to give you a few minutes if you need to take a shower or do anything before we shut it off.”

      “No, you can’t do this. I have children—it is the middle of the winter,” my mom yelled as she read the yellow paper the man had handed her. The man walked away toward a big white truck.

      “Please don’t do this. I have children. Please! Who’s your supervisor? Let me call them,” she said as she tried to catch up with him. I saw my neighbor across the street, Ms. Arlene, standing in her door and looking at my mom. She was holding her robe together and had a scarf on her head. She came across the street and asked, “Joanne, is everything okay?”

      “Yeah, I’m fine. These people just made a mistake,” my mom said, embarrassed.

      Ms. Arlene worked at the state representative office. She was the lady everybody in the neighborhood went to if they had an issue.

      “Just let me know if you need any help. I might can make some phone calls for you,” she said. Ms. Arlene walked over and talked to the man. She came back and said, “He gave me his supervisor’s number. Let’s call him and see what we can do.”

      Ms. Arlene came in and coached my mom on what to say to the man’s supervisor.

      I ran up the steps and awoke Bilal. “Get in the shower. Take a five-minute shower.”

      I got Bubbles up and she got in just as Bilal jumped out. I could hear my mom on the phone downstairs arguing with the supervisor. Then I heard Ms. Arlene get on the telephone and try to reason with the supervisor. As soon as Bubbles came out, I jumped in. Right in the middle of my warm shower the water turned cold. I rinsed off and came out of the shower. I dried off and began getting dressed. I already figured I would probably have to give my car money to my mom. I put my clothes on and went downstairs. “So what they say?” I asked.

      “They said I owe them three thousand dollars and I need to give them at least a third of it to get the service back on. I’m just not going to go to work today. I’ll get this mess straightened out. Don’t worry,” she said.

      “Mom, I have four hundred dollars—it’s my car money—if you need it,” I reluctantly said.

      “I probably won’t need it, but I’ll take it just in case. Okay, I’ll give it back to you.”

      Lana walked in the house. “What are those men doing outside?” she asked.

      “They turning the gas off,” my mother said.

      “For what? Mom, you didn’t pay the bill?”

      I gave her a glance like, “Shut up.”

      “Mom, why don’t you just call Daddy?” Alanna suggested.

      “I tried. His wife said he was at work. Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out. The gas will be back on by the time y’all come home from school. Just get ready for school and get out of here.”

      Chapter 2

      In the morning I washed up with ice-cold water. It was so chilly in my room that when I yawned, I saw my breath. Without gas we couldn’t cook or have heat. It had been like this for three days. My mother bought some space heaters with my four hundred dollars, but they weren’t doing anything against the thirty-degree cold weather outside. It didn’t seem right that they could turn our gas off, but my mom said by law they could turn off the heat before the first day of winter—December 21—and that was thirty days away. I went to sleep with my clothes on and three blankets over me, and I was still cold. I could feel the cold in my bones and I felt like I was getting sick. At school I couldn’t concentrate. I just kept wondering why my mom didn’t pay our bill in the first place. It seemed like she made enough money at her job. She worked at a retirement home, and we never had this happen before. We had had our cable get turned off a couple of times until she got paid, and once our phone was even off for a week. But I never in my life been cold before. I think this is just as bad as being hungry.

      School was the same bunch of dumb classes, but at least it was warm. I couldn’t wait until the end of the day, though, so I could go to practice. That was the only thing that made me happy and kept me going, knowing that the talent show was coming up. When I got onstage I didn’t care about anyone saying anything about my teeth or saying I was too skinny. When I sing, no one notices any of that. They only pay attention to my voice. The show was in one week and I couldn’t wait to be on that stage and be special and get all the attention.

      At practice this girl name Jackie said she was singing Toni Braxton’s “Unbreak My Heart.” She sounded horrible! Her voice didn’t suit the song at all. But she had her heart set on that song and said her mom was getting her a dress made. I told her that was nice, but I wasn’t going that far. I was just wearing a blue dress that I had since last summer. We stayed in rehearsal until Mr. Smith, the janitor, told me he was locking up. I practiced my notes over and over again. I was going to sing perfectly and get a standing ovation.

      After I left school I walked to the corner and waited for the C bus. It was not coming, so I started walking. I got about three blocks down and saw the bus approaching. I was in the middle of the block, so I ran to the next corner. I thought the bus was going to pass me. The bus driver saw me, opened the door, and let me on. I put a token in and walked to the back of the crowded bus. There was nowhere to sit, but two stops later a lady got off and I sat in her seat. I finally was able to relax until my stop. I layed my head against the window, closed my eyes, and prayed that the heat was back on and everything was back to normal.

      From the corner of my block I saw my dad John’s car. I opened the door and hoped that he had taken care of everything.

      “Hey, Dad, you got the gas back on?” I asked.

      “No, your mom gonna handle that. I just bought y’all a few kerosene heaters to keep it warm in here,” he said, pouring something into the heaters.

      “Oh? Why didn’t you just pay the bill?” I asked.

      “Kendra, your mother let the gas get cut off. So she is responsible for getting it back on.”

      I corrected him and said, “Well, if you would have paid your child support she probably could have paid the bill.”

      “You don’t know what I СКАЧАТЬ