The Dark Side of Space

Chapter 2

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The smell of my mom's cooking lures me into the kitchen. When she sees me, she smiles brightly.

"Good morning," my mom says. She squeezes my elbow as I brush next to her to make myself some coffee. "Ray didn't want to stay for breakfast?"

I freeze, one hand on the coffee pot and the other on my mug. "Huh?" I don't dare look at my mom.

"Please, mija, I'm old not, deaf. I could hear you two talking." My mom isn't old at all. She was younger than me when she had me. She never went to college, or got married, or got her dream job. I want to do everything she never could.

"I'm sorry, he got off early and he came to visit, I told him you wouldn't want-"

"Don't make me a grandma," my mom says with finality. I'm glad she drops the subject. I sit down at our tiny kitchen table with my coffee. Moments later, my mom sits in front of me with a plate for each of us. I miss her cooking the most when I'm away. There's a real talent in being able to make eggs, toast, and sausage taste like a five-star meal.

"You look tired," my mom acknowledges.

"I was writing my essay," I explain. I hope my mom doesn't make a big deal of it.

"How's it coming?"

"I finished it." When Ray left, I stayed up for hours perfecting my essay. I didn't want to push it off anymore. But now, I have to wait in anxiety for three weeks. That's a quicker turnaround than normal but it's still a very long time to see just how much my life is going to change.

"You're going to get it," my mom smiles. "You always do."

"I hope so," I agree. I eat my food in silence, sipping my coffee and trying to put a little more energy into my body. I wish I could think about something else right now. It felt the same way a few years ago when I was applying to colleges. Once I turned in my applications and the decision was out of my hands, I was even more anxious. There was nothing I could change or fix. All I could do was pray and wait. When I got accepted it was the best feeling of my life. I can't even describe my mom's happiness, which made me even happier. Finally, the opportunity to turn my life around was sitting right in front of me. I just want my mom to be proud of me.

"I don't have to work today. I thought we could spend some time together?"

"I'd love that," I smile at my mom.

"I have to get some things from the store, and then I thought we could get lunch?" she asks.

I nod my head and smile at my mom. "Okay."

***

It's so hot outside that after taking five steps, I start sweating through my tank top. When I was younger and I'd play outside with my cousins, my grandma would always tell them that if we stayed outside too long, my cousins would get dark like me and they wouldn't want that. My mom was never happy when she said things like that to me, but not unhappy enough to tell her to stop. My mom is so pale that if she ever got a tan she'd still look like she needs some sun.

The neighborhood is alive with little girls jump roping and men smoking. Faded gang tags cover the fences. A lady sells slushies in cups for two quarters. Little children crowd around her, waiting to buy one. When I was little, my mouth would be stained blue the entire summer. Every garage or car plays music, whether it's oldies-but-goodies in Spanish or rap music. There's a homey feel I get walking my neighborhood I know I'll never get anywhere else. No one has a lot of money but we make the best of it and everybody knows everybody. I've been to rich neighborhoods to visit my friends, and most of them don't even really know the person who lives across the street. The occasional crime is the price we pay for community.