"My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.”

-W.H. Auden

“Mami! Zekito won’t leave my room!”

“This is my room too, estupida!”

“Well, when I’m talking to my friends on the phone this is MY room, estupido!”

The preceding argument concluded with Flora shoving her little brother Ezekiel out of of their room and slamming the door, locking it to assure her privacy while she went back to talking about the cute boys at her new middle school.

She gained popularity fairly quick as the ‘new’ girl, The exotic Allentonian that just arrived to the big apple, bringing with her a new a new change to the norm.

The last thing she needed was for her nerdy little brother to find a way to ruin that, so out the door he was sent.

Zekito Kicked the door, Called her “Estupida” once more, then headed towards their kitchen where their mother was preparing a nice simple dinner of Arroz con Gandules y pollo.

“Mami, I hate New York. I miss having my own room, I miss being able to lay on my own bed to read the new stupid book the class assigned me.”

“what book is that, Mijo?” Maritza Asked her sullen son.

“Maniac Magee. It’s about an angry kid who’s on the run because of racism or something. I could barely understand what I was reading because of loudmouth Flora yelling about boys or whatever…”

Hearing her son say ‘Angry kid’ gave Maritza a sudden memory rush, Reminding her of… HIM.

“No lo pienses, no lo pienses…” she started muttering to herself as she continued mixing the gandules in the stove.

“Don’t think of what, Mami?” Zekito asked while he tugged on his mother’s shirt.

“no...nothing my love,” Maritza responded, “Why don’t you go and tell your sister that dinner is ready?”

“Oh, Okay ma.” He said as he turned around and headed back towards his locked up room.

Maritza looked down at the boiling pot of seasoned green pigeon peas she was lovingly cooking for her children when she started reminiscing about her youth in the Dominican Republic, when her mother brought her to the kitchen for the first time at age eleven to teach her how to cook the perfect pot of rice, with the right amount of water, coconut oil, cooking oil, a small amount of butter, and plenty of patience.

She remembered cooking that pot of rice for her mentor Madame Melfi a few years after she ran away from her home to learn all about her recently awakened powers, She remembered how her mentor savored each grain full of richness and healthful flavor.

She remembered how it took her years after the incident in Orlando Florida to get her anywhere near a cooking stove again, due to her fear of anything resembling fire.

She hated her powers.

She hated herself.

But she loved her children, and she’d never let them know how much sadness hid behind her smile and she’d never let any harm come to them if she could help it.

She started to get that angry kid memory rush from before and almost began to cry when her children walked into the kitchen.

“Ma,” Flora began as she served herself, “could I just take the food with me to my room?”

“Ummm,” Zekito interrupted her, “OUR room.”

Flora scoffed at her little brother, then looked at her mother with sweet puppy eyes awaiting her mother’s response.

“Okay sweety,” Maritza answered, “Just remember to bring the plates ba…” was all she could get out before her daughter whisked away to her room with her full plate of food in hand.

Zekito noticed her mom looked a bit melancholy and decided to ask her if she was alright.

“I’m fine, Mijo. I was just remembering some things…”

“Do… do you miss papi too?” Zekito asked her as her hugged her from the side.

She stood there thinking in her head “That cheating piece of shit? That man who would tell me he loved me while going all around Allentown banging every woman who’d spread their legs for him? That guy? Not at all. Was he a good father? Sure. Was he a good husband? Not even close…” out loud she just said “Yes, sweety.”

“Me too ma. I’m sad that he’s in jail. I know he was just trying to help us by selling…”

Sweety,” Maritza interrupted “Look. I know why you’d think that. I hate badmouthing your father, but what he did was selfish. He could have worked in a factory, made an honest man’s pay to provide for you and your sister. I don’t judge him for doing what he did, but I also don’t want you to go on thinking that what he did was the right thing to do. You can…”

“Well…” Zekito meekly but sternly stated to his mother before he got up and walked towards with his food, “Just because you can stop loving dad somehow doesn’t mean that I have to.”

Maritza just stood there, a little mad, a little sad, and very puzzled about what to do next. Should she punish him for that, she thought? Should she be more understanding about his feelings towards this whole situation with his father?

She thought of her options and then just decided to sit there, stare at her food, and wonder about what else could go wrong in her life.