Chapter 4

CHAPTER4



It’s a little after 4:00 pm. I’ve been home since 11:30 or 12. I cant remember. Both of my daughters are home now. My brother is here as well. He’s always here. Big Bro never leaves the house. Except to walk around the yard or check the mailbox. Big Bro is a 39 year old short, salt and pepper hair colored man. Never been married and has no children. He’s very quiet, keeps to himself and is total neat freak. He also has autism. He will need supervision for the rest of his life. So guess who’s the supervisor? Yours truly. I don’t mind though. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I would slide through hell in gasoline soaked panties before I would put him in some state facility. He’s family and families stick together. “He aint heavy, he’s my brother.”


I’m guessing its around 4:30 or 5:00pm. I’m not sure. I cant keep track of time anymore. I’m in the kitchen starting dinner. Trust me its something quick and easy. Spaghetti. They love spaghetti. I love it too. Not to eat, but to cook. Like I said, quick and easy. And cheap. We all know the fast food biz doesn’t pay much and my food stamps only go so far.

Besides, I don’t feel that well right now. I haven’t felt good all day. It started at work. You remember don’t you? I started the morning off great. I was clear minded, motivated and ready to work hard. I kicked ass this morning. Then “evil” reared its ugly head. I tried to defeat “evil” with something “good”. But it backfired. Guess the saying you can have too much of a good thing is true….


…..”Hello Big Sis. How you doin?”
Omg. I didn’t even hear her come in.
“Hey Sissy. I’m ok. How bout you?”
“I’m good. Just got off from work. Stopped by to see if you were ready to do my hair.”
“Your hair?”
“Yeah. Remember you said you could do it today? Well I’m here.”
Did I tell her that? I don’t remember sayin that. But lately I’ve been having trouble remembering anything….
“Oh I’m sorry Sissy I forgot. It’s been a really bad day today. My mind is somewhere else..”
“Whats wrong? What happened now?”
“I had it out with my boss today. It got ugly and she threw me out of the store.”
“So you’re fired?”
“I don’t know. Don’t think so. I hope not. I need my job….”
“What you need is a real job. A career. How much longer are you gonna stay in the same place, doing the same thing and going nowhere?”

That’s my Sissy ladies and gentlemen. My baby sister. My only sister. There’s Big Bro, myself, then Sissy. Our parents died a long time ago. Dad first, then mom. I was in college when mom died. Sissy was in middle school I think. I had to finish raising her. Our grandparents were still around thank God, but a lot still fell on me. And just like most younger siblings she was a handful. Sissy had issues growing up. I wont go into details, but I can say raising her was no picnic. Sissy was a problematic child. But despite all of that she managed to make something of herself. She held down a job, finished college and go her bachelors in criminal justice. Sissy is a juvenile probation officer. She has a great career that pays well. Little sister made it. Big sister didn’t. Whats wrong with that picture?

“Yeah Sissy you’re right. But this is the best I can do right now.”
“Well unlike you, I love my job and I love the people I work with. I have to say it feels good to work in a “professional atmosphere.”

Gotta love my lil sis!!! But there are times that I just want to punch her. She seems to love to remind me that she did something great and I didn’t. Sissy had a lot of pits and downfalls, but she persevered and come out a champion. I had a lot of pits and downfalls and I’m still in a pit, looking like a loser…

“Are you almost done Regina? I still wanna make it to the nail salon before they close.”
“Yeah…I got….one more side….to do”
“Why are you talking like that?”
“Talking…..like….what?”
“Like you’re out of breath. You sound weak and out of breath. And you had to sit down twice since you started relaxing my hair. Are you feeling ok?”
“Yes I’m fine. I had to sit down because my feet hurt. You know I have bad feet. They hurt all the time. Come on, let me finish your hair so you can go..”

I’m lying. My feet don’t hurt. I’m exhausted. I feel faint. I feel light headed. Sissy is right, I am talking funny. Not only am I out of breath but now I’m starting to stutter and stumble over words. I didn’t do it in front of her, but I did it in front of my kids. They couldn’t understand anything I was trying to say. To them I sound like a sputtering drunkin idiot. In a sense, I am a drunkin idiot. But its not alcohol…….