Flashback
Magnolia Crest Elementary
We was at recess and I was twirlin’ around in a circle, eatin’ hot Cheetos and rappin’, “My name is Toni and I’m spicy like a bag, you touch my chips again and I’mma snatch you by ya rag,” while the rest of the fourth graders screamed laughin’ because I kept switchin’ my flow like I was really on BET. I flicked my ponytail and jumped around the blacktop like I was on stage, my lil’ hands movin’ wild in the air, and every time I hit a lil’ dance move everybody hollered like I was famous.
“My name is Toni and I’m cool with the drip, if you don’t like me then you smell like armpit,” I yelled, then fell out laughin’ at my own joke because it was corny but I didn’t care. The girlswas clappin’ a beat for me, stompin’ they shoes into the dirt like it was a real stage, and the boys was hypin’ me up like, “Go Toni, go Toni, go Toni,” while I strutted in a lil’ circle with my hand on my hip like I ownedMagnolia Crest Elementary.
I loved recess more than anything because outside was where I could pretend I ain’t come from a house full of boys who never let me talk, or a stepdaddy who always came home loud, or a mama who worked two shifts and still fussed about everything. Outside was my place. Outside was the one spot where I could be as loud and silly as I wanted, because everybody at school already knew I was ghetto and goofy and probably never gon’ change.
I bent down and slapped my hand on the ground like it was a mic drop, then popped back up and shouted, “My name is Toni and I’m faster than a train, you want these hands then line up in a chain,” and the whole class fell out laughin’. Even Jaksonn, who always had his shirt tucked in was holdin’ his stomach like he couldn’t breathe.
He was right next to me in the circle, smilin’ big with his lil gap tooth showin’, and I kept rappin’ even though the Cheeto dust was all over my fingertips and probably all over my face too. I didn’t care. I was havin’ fun. The sun was out. The grass smelled like it needed to be cut, and for a moment everything felt light and warm and just right for a fourth grader who didn’t get days like this often.
I was about to hit another verse when Jaksonn started movin’ weird. At first, I thought he was tryna dance, because he bent forward a lil’ like he was about to do the robot, but then his arms jerked funny and his eyes rolled up in a way that didn’t look like he was pretendin’. A couple kids laughed ‘cause they thought he was bein’ silly, but somethin’ in me clenched up real fast because his body wasn’t movin’ like a joke.
He fell forward out the circle and hit the concrete with his hands first, then his whole body shook. The noise of his shoes scrapin’ the ground made my stomach twist, and I dropped my Cheeto bag without even realizin’ it.
At first everybody just stared because we was kids and we didn’t know what seizures looked like. Then his body jerked again, harder this time, and his eyes was wide open but he wasn’t lookin’ at none of us. His mouth opened like he wanted to say somethin’, but no words came out. His whole body kept shakin’, and the sound he made was soft and strange, and that’s when my classmates finally understood somethin’ was wrong.
Some girl screamed. Another boy ran in a circle like he ain’t know where the teacher was. Then kids started yellin’ loud, “Ms. Peterson! He dyin’! Come here! He dyin’!” and feet slapped against the blacktop as everybody ran toward the teacher’s bench.
For whatever reason, I couldn’t run away, and leave Jaksonn. My feet wouldn’t move. Somethin’ in me made me stay right there by him, even though my hands was shakin’ and my throat felt tight. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, but leavin’ him alone felt wrong. He was shakin’ like his whole body was tryin’ to fight itself, and I didn’t want him to be alone in that moment.
I crouched down right beside him and whispered, “Jaksonn… hey… hey boy, you okay? You hear me?” even though I knew he couldn’t answer. His fingers flexed and curled weird, and his body jerked again, and that scared me so bad my knees went weak, but for some reason my hands still reached out.
He rolled onto his side without me even touchin’ him, and I remembered my mama sayin’ one time that if somebody ever passed out or anything, you supposed to make sure they couldbreathe. So I slid my hand under his head a lil’ and made sure his face was turned so he wasn’t layin’ flat.
“You okay… I’m right here,” I kept whisperin’, even though my voice felt wobbly. “I ain’t leavin’ you.”
He was still shakin’, but not as wild as before. I ain’t know anything about seizures, but I knew bein’ scared felt worse than being scared with nobody beside you. So I stayed. I didn’t cry, or scream. I just stayed with him until Ms. Peterson finally ran over with her whistle hangin’ around her neck and her face pale like she ain’t know what to do either.
“Move back, move back,” she yelled, kneelin’ down beside us. “Toni, sweetie, go step over there, okay?”
I shook my head because somethin’ in me refused to let him be there by himself.
“I got him,” I whispered, even though I was only nine and my hands was tiny and my heart was poundin’ too fast. “I was just makin’ sure he could breathe.”
Ms. Peterson looked shocked that I wasn’t freakin’ out like everybody else had, but right then the nurse ran across the blacktop with her radio clipped to her hip and everything started movin’ fast. They checked him, lifted him, talked all rapid, then rushed him toward the office so they could call an ambulance.
I stood up slow because my legs felt funny, and the second they took him away I felt somethin’ heavy drop into my chest. It came out of nowhere and made my stomach twist up. I didn’t know if it was fear or sadness or worry, but it made my whole inside feel tight.
Kids went back to playin’ once the ambulance sirens faded, but I couldn’t. I stood there with my hands locked together in front of me, starin’ at the grass like it had answers. Ms. Peterson walked over and placed her hand on my shoulder.
“Toni, sweetheart, are you okay?”
I nodded slow but it wasn’t true. Somethin’ felt wrong inside me, but I didn’t know how to explain it. I still didn’t cry, but I felt like I wanted to. I didn’t know why my chest felt heavy. I just knew I wanted my grandma. She always knew what to say when my mind felt loud.
“Toni, it’s okay to be shaken up,” she said softly. “You were very brave. You stayed with him when everyone else ran.”
Brave. I didn’t feel brave. I felt small and confused and sad for a boy I didn’t even talk too much outside of class.
Ms. Peterson sent me to the office so someone could pick me up, and when I sat in the room with the green chairs and old pencil posters on the walls, I kept askin’ the principal every few minutes, “Is he okay? Did they say anything yet? Is he gon’ be fine?”
She kneeled down beside me and said, “The ambulance took him to the hospital, and they said he’s going to be okay. You did everything right.”
I nodded slow, but the knot in my stomach stayed there. I kept swingin’ my feet back ‘n forth under the chair, rubbin’ my wrists ‘cause my body felt weird. I wanted my grandma so bad it made my chest hurt.
When Grandma Glo, my granny on my daddy side, finally walked in wearin’ her big sunglasses and her shiny purse tucked under her arm, I hopped out the chair quick and grabbed her hand because I needed her more than anything right then. The principal came out and told her what happened, sayin’ I was real calm and real helpful, and Grandma Glo’s eyebrows lifted like she wasn’t surprised at all.
