Page 2 of Property of Mongrel

“I understand, Mom,” I replied.

“Now, y’all go and get your homework done. Your dad and I are planning to go out tonight.”

Mrs. Price came into mine and Jonah’s room that night. She was our babysitter whenever my parents went out to eat. She softly kneeled on the floor, her eyes misty, and said, “Boys, I need you both to wake up,” I knew something bad had happened because it sounded like there was a frog lodged in her throat, croaking when she spoke.

Turning on the light by my bed, I saw her face and noticed she had tears running down her cheeks as she clutched her hands together. When she saw we were both awake, she stood up from the floor and settled on the edge of my bed and motioned for Jonah to come to us. After he did, she pulled us both into her arms and said, “I have something to tell you both that’s going to break your heart. Your parents were killed tonight in a drunk driving accident.” The entire room froze around me as her words penetrated. I went ramrod straight, waiting to hear what was going to happen to me and my siblings. Something like this doesn’t happen without it affecting the entire family.

“Who’s going to take care of us?” Jonah asked, his voice trembling as he looked at her, tears coursing down his face.

“I don’t know, Jonah,” Mrs. Price replied. “I haven’t woken the girls up, but the two of you are old enough to know that life will change. The police are notifying your grandparents so I’m sure they’ll be on their way to sit with you soon.”

I thought about both of my parents and anger settled in my heart at the fact that someone had deliberately chosen to drink then drive. I might not be old enough to have a license, but my dad had been teaching me the rules of the road because as he said, it would only be a few more years and he wanted me prepared. “It’s not fair,” I whispered, my voice breaking as I fell into Mrs. Price’s arms and sobbed, finally freeing my emotions from the cage I had placed them in.

She did her best to console us that night, and it was a memory I tucked away, because it was the last ‘good’ one I had for a very long time.

“Giselle, we’re not keeping them,” my grandfather growled as he stomped around the living room. “You can’t handle three rambunctious toddlers plus two pre-teen boys with what you’re dealing with right now.”

“Germaine, they’re our son’s babies,” my grandma pleaded. “If we don’t take them, they’ll go into foster care and probably be split up.”

“He shouldn’t have ever had them anyway,” Grandpa bitterly added.

My spine stiffened from my hiding spot. The past few days had been a blur, between my grandparents and uncles coming to stay at our house to help keep us calm, going to the funeral, and trying to explain to my three little sisters that Mommy and Daddy were never coming home again.

Despite the grief that hung over the house like a huge, black cloud, there were other undercurrents and that was what had me hiding tonight. I had heard him whisper to her earlier that they needed to ‘talk about the future as far as those kids go’ and the tone he used wasn’t the one I normally heard out of him.

“Why would you say that? Bobby’s never getting married and well, neither is Leroy. The only grandchildren we have are the five that Gavin gave us, Germaine!” my grandmother exclaimed. I could hear the sorrow in her voice and wanted to leave my spot to comfort her, but I knew I needed to hear what he was going to say.

“They’re not pure, Giselle,” he hissed. My mind immediately went back to the bullies from school. Grandpa… no, grandfather… was like them, he had just kept it hidden from my parents apparently.

“What?” she asked, now shocked. “What in the world do you mean by that? Is it because she was white?” He must have nodded because she continued speaking and said, “If you do what I think you plan to do, our marriage is over. According to the doctor, the treatment plan I’m going through right now is merely to give me a little more time. It’s terminal, Germaine. From the way you’re talking, you plan to let that social worker take them away from us.”

“I said what I said,” he retorted, his voice raising.

“Then expect to have my attorney file papers as soon as I can get in to see him,” she replied. “Now, I’d prefer it if you slept on the couch tonight, then you can go back home tomorrow, while I do what I can for these kids for as long as the state will let me keep them. I have no desire to be around the man who is betraying not only his son, but his five young grandchildren who have already lost everything on one side. Now you’re throwing them away as well. You should be ashamed and you’re definitely not the man I thought you were at all. Your true colors are shining through,” she hissed.

By now, my hands were over my mouth to keep the wracking sobs from breaking free and getting me caught. I carefully made my way back to my bedroom, unsurprised to see Jonah wide awake, waiting on me.

“Well?” he asked once I’d closed the door and crawled into his bed. It was something we’d done all our lives, so it wasn’t unusual in the least. We slept in his bed or mine, despite there being two in our room.

“He said we’re not pure,” I replied, my voice shaking with fury. “All these years and he finally said what he really felt about all of us. He said that Dad and Mom never should’ve had any of us.”

“They’ll separate us,” Jonah whispered, as he started to cry. “There’s no way one foster family will take all five of us, Cam.”

“If they split us up, I promise I’ll never stop looking for any of you, JoJo,” I told him, my own voice now cracking as tears fell down my face. “I just worry that the girls won’t remember either one of us if it happens. Then what?”

“We remind them,” Jonah replied.

We were allowed to pack one suitcase apiece, something that I found out was extremely rare in foster care. Grandma took care of us for six months before she got too sick to continue, and neither uncle could take all five of us, so we were being split up. Both Uncle Bobby, who wasn’t around all that much, and Uncle Leroy, who became like a surrogate father, staying at our house and helping out with everything, weren’t in a position to take all of us on. Uncle Bobby, who I secretly felt was more like that man than he portrayed, was an over-the-road trucker, and Uncle Leroy was honest with Grandma about why he wasn’t even going to try. He said his lifestyle would prevent them from giving him custody, and his sorrow was so genuine, it broke the rest of me in half that wasn’t already shattered.

Grandma promised to put the sentimental stuff she had been steadily going through in a storage unit, then give the social worker that information, as well as Uncle Leroy. That way, when we were older, we could get it back. Uncle Leroy told me he would ensure that we knew where the stuff was going to be stored, and he made me promise to keep up with my running.

As I hugged each of my sisters, who still didn’t really understand what was happening, I told them that me and Jonah would come and find them when we were old enough to do so. But I completely broke down when it was time to say goodbye to Jonah. For all of our lives, we had been with each other and now, because of that man, who I refused to acknowledge as my grandfather any longer, we were being ripped apart.

Mrs. Ashton, my social worker, said, “It’s only for a few years, Cameron, but it’s for the best. Your grandmother is going on hospice and unfortunately, despite our best efforts, your mother’s side of the family refused to take the five of you in.”

I sneered then replied, “I could have told you it would be a waste of time. They disowned my mother when she started ‘consorting with a black man’. My parents loved each other, and I know they faced struggles, Mrs. Ashton, but they didn’t care. They said their love for one another and for us was where they drew their strength. So, no, I don’t ever wanna know who those people are. I just wish my grandma wasn’t dying. She loves us and I know she would’ve kept us, even without him but she’s not physically able.”

We walked to the car to take me to my foster care placement and I thought, Happy fucking birthday to me.