Page 14 of Saint
My father had finally kicked the bucket after being an alcoholic, damaging his liver, and refusing medical care for it.
My great aunt had passed away shortly after she told me about this small town.
My grandparents, I couldn’t tell you who they were.
But I knew that Mr. and Mrs. Robbins saw themselves as pseudo-grandparents.
So that would just have to do.
Now, back to the third thing she wanted.
It was the Barbie in Swan Lake Doll.
See, before we had moved and everything had blown up, Kyle, aka rat bastard, the company he worked for, had taken everyone to the ballet.
And Soraya had fallen in love with the costumes and everything about it.
Hence, the Barbie in Swan Lake doll.
When Soraya moved to grab it, I peeked at the price tag and felt my eyes widen in my eye sockets.
When she showed it to me, I sighed, “Honey, I’m sorry. I won’t be able to get you that for Christmas.”
And I wouldn’t.
Because she was growing like a weed, and I had to buy her new clothes. And a new pair of shoes because in her classroom yesterday, she had spilled red paint all over them.
And by the time I got the once-white shoes into the wash, there was no saving them.
My little girl sighed, looked at the doll in a somewhat dreamy state, lowered her shoulders, and said, “Okay, Monnie.”
I sighed as I watched my whole world slowly walk back to the shelf and place the toy back where she had picked it up from.
I bent at the knees when she made it to me.
Then I opened my arms.
Gone was the sad smile on her face, and in its place was a small smile.
I would take that.
The moment she was in my arms, I hugged her tightly.
Then, when I released her, I said, “I’ll do my best to get it for you for your birthday. Okay?”
She nodded, “Okay, Monnie.”
However, what neither of us saw was the big man in a leather kutte with his fist rubbing circles over his heart.
“Okay, pumpkin-head. Let’s go pay for all this, then get home and see if Mr. Robbins found us a tree. Okay?”
She nodded, then took one last look at the Barbie Doll, and then we went and paid.
We were headed to our car when suddenly, a deep, gravelly voice said from behind us, “Scuse me.”
Clutching Soraya’s hand even tighter, we kept on walking.
That was when I heard that same deep, gravelly voice say, “Lady, stop for a minute, yeah?”
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- Page 14 (reading here)
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