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[This is where the summary would go if I'd bothered to write one.]

« Week 143Drowning Ruth »
Writober 05: Rich Enough

Daddy lost every day but every day he bought a ticket. He bought a ticket, but no shoes. No shoes and no food. He probably didn’t buy other things except those are the ones he and Momma used to fight the most about. Fighting, though, might be the wrong word. It takes two people to fight. She would scream at him while he sat in front of the tv, waiting for his numbers to be called.

He was sure, see, that his numbers would come up, eventually. Babygirl, he’d say as I sat in his lap, calling out the numbers on the screen, one of these days those numbers are gonna match what I have here in my hand and then, lordy-be, we’re gonna be rich the likes nobody’s ever seen.

I would nod, not understanding. I had shoes. My momma made sure of that. Every day she’d wake me, bathe me, feed me, and then we’d leave the house, to travel the city all day long. I lost track of the number of houses we’d visit, doing laundry in one, cleaning bathrooms in another, and so on till the sun fell out of the sky.

One day I asked her if when we were rich, she’d still wash other people’s underwear and she sighed, patted my head and said, “Babygirl, we’re already rich enough. Just look around. We’re rich enough.”

I nodded, not understanding.

Published 10/31/05 in Writing • Writober • | Views: 2376 times | Print

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