Speak Up

1

Brackston

"Brackston?" The mother calls out. I rush down the stairs and enter the kitchen. "Are you hungry? I made some Jollof and chicken...your favorite." Her smile greets me pleasantly.

Nodding enthusiastically, I wait until she hands me a plate of food and walks into the dining room to sit at the table. I glance at the bare walls and begin to feel sadness swell up in my chest. I'm going to be leaving soon; going to the States. The United States of America. Was the abbreviation US, or is it the USA? I'm not entirely sure but, I'm nervous and sad. All my friends will be left behind. My girlfriend. My school. My life. I can only hope for the best.

Sighing, I continue to chew on the rice, savoring every last grain.

My father ambles tiredly into the house, scaring me and causing the food on my spoon to fall off, it was the best part of my meal, too. Luckily it lands back in my bowl, or I would have been angry with myself. I curse silently.

Father is wearing a huge grin on his face with a sheet of paper in his hand, he begins to wave the paper around in a circle and dance.

"Dina! Brackston!" He shouts even though I'm sitting in the same room as him and could have heard him even if he whispered. But, my mother being in the kitchen, is a different story.

She comes around the corner, wiping her hands on her apron. "What is it, Sweetie?" She asks.

"We have the notice to leave here and be in the United States by August 2nd at 5:50 am," he announces, waving the letter with the information on it.

My mother tries to reach for it, but my father's excitement keeps it from her. She punches his stomach and he groans, hanging the paper over to her and she snatches it, reading it carefully until she bursts into a cheer of excitement. She dances along with my father and I can't help but smile.

I know moving to the United States will be a huge change for my family and I. It means better living, as well as better pay for my father, who is a doctor here and gets little to nothing.

I put on a smile for my parents. I don't want to ruin their happy times with my moody attitude. But, such as life, these things happen. I can only hope there is a better life for me in the States as well.

The rest of the evening is spent packing and pulling things down to be put in the boxes. August 2nd is two weeks away; in two weeks we will have to be out of here and on a plane to Texas or the Nigerian Authorities would move to keep us here. My mother panicked when she read that part of the letter. She began to start organizing and packing everything before we even had the correct amount of boxes.

I swear, the only time I'd seen her move faster was when she was pregnant with my younger sister; Jo'Lee at fifteen-years-old is as smart as an adult.

Father went to go pick her up from school while my mother and I were packing up things we didn't need.

"Brick, are you okay? I mean with us moving and all?" Mother asks me in a gentle tone.

A somber look moves across my face, but I mask it with a smile.

"I'm fine. I will miss my friends and others, but I know it's for the best, mother."

She hugs me and I hug her back. Returning to the dining hall I quickly clean up the mess on the floor. I return to my bedroom and start to pack some of my clothes. I put a few shoes and some watches into the labeled boxes. When I'm finished, I walk downstairs and look at the clock on the microwave.

"Only, 6:35 p.m. Really?" I say to myself. "It felt like I was packing for at least a good two hours."

I decide to pay a visit to Chidima, to make the time move a little quicker. Chidima is my first love - my first everything, really. She lives a few blocks down the road from me. What is normally a five to ten-minute walk takes fifteen minutes instead of thinking of what to say to her about my family moving to the United States. I had spent a while trying to figure out what to say to her, when father first put in for the motion, but couldn't think of anything until now.

I knock on her door and wait for someone to open it. When it's answered she stands there, looking like the angel I've always known her to be. Her hair is wrapped up in a white headscarf and she is wearing a simple almond top and a long baby blue skirt.

"Brick? What are you doing here?" She smiles and ushers me in, leading me to an empty living room.

"I felt like visiting you for a little bit," I beam at her.

She blushes and smiles to herself. I look up at the pictures of her, her siblings, and her parents. Then another of her when she was just a baby.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asks

"No, that won't be necessary. I do need to tell you something, though," I say. She nods and sits beside me on the leather couch. I swallow nervously and wipe my sweaty palms over my cargo shorts.

"I'll be leaving in two weeks," I choke out, having trouble looking her in the eye. "I'll be moving away for perhaps forever."

She looks at me with hurt and confusion written all over her face.

"To the United States," I continued.

She stands up and shakes her head. "What do you mean you're moving to the United States?" she yells out, years welling up in her eyes. "You're going to leave me? Just like my brother and dad did and... and... Get out!" She yells, turning away.

"What? Chidima-."

"Just get out!" She continues, pointing to the door.

I do as I'm told and walk towards the door but stop, "I love you, Chidima. Just remember that, and don't forget me." I tell her before leaving. Sighing, I make my way back home.

I'm left thinking of how Chidima will be hurt for a long time. With the help of a better guy from around, she will be just fine. At least, that is what I'm telling myself to feel better. Again, the walk home is much longer than normal, my steps slow and sluggish as I think.

After finally making it home, I open the door to see the majority of the living room and kitchen are packed up. Sniffling, I hold back tears; this is really happening. I am about to uproot my life and the things that I love so my parents can be happy. What sucks, even more, is that I am old enough to stay here on my own, but without a job and proper education, I would not be able to live independently for very long.

Heading upstairs I peek into my little sister's room. She is sound asleep and I smile knowing she must have had a long day at school. I gently close her door and go into my own room then shower, put on boxers, and get in the bed. The sadness I saw on Chidima's face causes tears to run down my own. I didn't want to hurt her - I never meant to hurt her - but I could not have left her without saying anything. I wipe my tears with the palms of my hands, rollover, and go to sleep.

The next morning, the sun's rays shine in my face and I hear a lot of scuffling downstairs. Throwing on my shirt and some black jogging pants, I hurry down the stairs to find that there are men from the moving trucks coming in and out to collect things that are in the house and haul them away. Arching my brow I wonder how the vehicle is going to make it to the States, knowing we've got to cross the ocean. Maybe all of our things will be packed onto a boat later.

"Brick, you're finally up!" My father greets me, ecstatic for moving day.

"Yes, I'm up," I reply, still feeling a bit hurt from talking with Chidima last night.

"Great. You can help your sister in her room." Father replies, nudging me back upstairs.

I climb up the stairs and into my little sister's room. Being a girl, it seems she has more belongings than I do. Jo'Lee looks up at me from her CD tray and waves slightly with a smile. I nod back and sit down with her then begin to sort through her massive collection of CDs.

"How are you, Brick?" She asks me, just as excited as father was.

Why is everyone asking me 'how I'm doing' and 'if I am okay'?, I think to myself. It's getting rather annoying, to be honest.

"I'm alright. Just ready to see what the States is like, you know?," I grumble to her and secretly hide one of her CDs behind my back for my own keeping and hope she doesn't notice.

"Well, I'm just awfully mad at this whole thing," she spills, "We only have a few days to pack things and the moving van is already here. We've got to get our passports done around 3:00 today, and I haven't packed a single thing yet."

I look around her room. Nothing but pink and girly everything all around: Stuffed animals everywhere, pictures of her and friends, some of her and her longtime boyfriend. There's shoes, clothes, hair and makeup stuff everywhere. I feel like I'm in a bad 1950's movie with all this crap.

"Well, it is a lot to take in--," I start to say.

"I hadn't even gotten a chance to see Kaleem," she interrupts and sighs with a smile, looking at the picture of the two of them at a festival we had gone to over a year ago. "I'm going to miss his sexy ass, I really am." She turns to me, "Have you told Chidima?"

I look down at the CDs and don't answer. She hugs me, but I don't hug back. Then she begins to rock me. I swear it seems like I'm the younger one at times. She always does this to me when something is wrong- it's really embarrassing, to be honest, but there's nothing I can do about it.

"Don't worry, Brick," she says, "I hear there are plenty of fine girls in the States. They get to wear whatever they want. Wouldn't that be nice?" She beams at the idea of no longer having to wear only skirts.

"Yeah, I guess," I reply.

"Anyways, can you pass me those panties over there?" she asks. "They're out of my reach."

Shuddering, I pick them up by the hem, using my pinky finger.

"So over-dramatic," Jo'Lee rolls her eyes then and snatches it from me. Chuckling, I watch her pack her own clothes.

When all is done, I decided to take a quick shower. When I'm finished, I put on blue jeans, a long-sleeved blue shirt, and my trainers.

"Hey! Brackston!" my dad yells out. "Hurry up, son. We need to get to the drugstore for our passports!"

I huff and rush down the stairs, collecting my phone, wallet, and keys. I'm the last out the door, so I had to lock it. Hurrying into my dad's red Jeep, I sit in the back with my sister.

"Alright guys, let's go," dad says, smiling as we drive off.

I was not prepared for the 3-hour drive to Pretoria. Jo'Lee complained the whole ride there, mom just sat there. Dad, on the other hand, wouldn't stop talking about how excited he was to finally be accepted to go to the states for this job. He babbled the whole ride, repeating his excitement.

I get out and follow my overly-enthusiastic parents into the store. We wait in line, behind a fat guy who smells of rotten eggs and fish. I step back and stand behind my sister, who doesn't seem to smell him.

When we get to the front, my picture is taken against a blank wall. I thought I had to smile, but the guy tells me to stop.

"Straight face, please," he tells me. "...Okay...one, two, three." The camera flashes causing me to see different colors. Jo'Lee is next, followed by Mum. With dad being last, he tries making a silly face for his picture.

"My eye hurts," Jo'Lee whines as we hop back into the car. "Oh, stop complaining," My dad demands. My sister rolls her eyes and looks out of the window. Dad drives us back to our house. I jump out first and unlock the door. Running into the kitchen, I dish the remaining amount of Jollof onto a plate. I am so famished that I simply walk into the living room and eat it cold. I start to think about life in the States. What would happen? Would I fit in? Would I find love?