Chapter 5: Coming of Age

*Thelma*

I open my eyes at the sound of loud voices stirring outside. What the heck was going on? Also, how in the world had I gotten home last night after a night full of binge drinking? Did Martin drive me back?

“You can’t do this!” I hear my mother yelling from outside.

I try to lift my head from the pillow, and feel like multiple hammers are having a hip-hop dance party in my head. With a groan, I lie back down. I had never drank alcohol before, but yesterday I remember downing one glass after another of that sweet pink creamy beverage. Rebekah had warned me to slow down, but the drink had been so sweet and tasted like berries; it was like having shots of strawberry milkshakes.

Why does everything that’s dangerous look and taste so good….

I put my hand to my forehead and close my eyes; they feel like they have shards of glass in them. My mouth feels like I was munching on some sandpaper.

‘I will never drink again,’ I think to myself as I will the pain away.

“Leave me! Don’t touch me!” My mother’s voice brings me back to reality.

Something was happening downstairs and I had to go see what was going on. Ignoring the throbbing pain in my head and body that feels like a train ran over it, I manage to wrestle myself out of bed. I stagger a bit, but quickly regain my balance.

“Focus!” I remind myself as I train my eyes on the door. I can sense something making its way up my throat. I struggle to keep whatever is fighting to escape from my stomach, down, as I march out of the door and down the stairs. Heading towards the back door, I still can hear the muffled voices.

I see Ma and uncle Fernandez standing with two men. The men are both in blue overcoats and one is holding a clipboard while the other has his hands clamped around a threatening steel wrench.

“You haven’t paid the bill for three months now! We have to cut your services,” the one holding the clipboard announces.

“You can’t turn off our power supply,” my mother argues. “Too many people here rely on it,” she adds.

I move closer. Uncle Fernandez sees me standing in the doorway and waves me over. Ma is still in her scrubs; I can tell she has just arrived home from work.

“These men are here to turn off the electricity supply,” Uncle Fernandez explains as I approach.

“They can’t do that,” I insist, holding my head in pain from the shining light outside

The man with the clipboard seems to have overhead me and raises a brow in my direction. “We can, and we will, soon as your mother steps away from the circuit board.”

I notice that my mom is standing in front of the electrical box and blocking the men from reaching it.

“I paid the electrical bill just two weeks ago, what do you mean the bill hasn’t been paid in months?” my mom asks incredulously.

“Ma’am, I have the printout of your account right here. The bill wasn’t paid,” the man affirms, pointing to his clipboard.

My mom shakes her head frantically. “You will not do this when I have been paying the bill religiously.”

I frown. Ma was never one to say she did something when she didn’t. Maybe there was an error with their system.

Suddenly, I jump at the touch of someone tugging on my skirt. I look down to see Roy standing there with sheer terror plastered across his youthful face.

“What is going on Elma?” he asks.

“Nothing, sweetie. Go back inside,” I say. I turn to see more members of our household crowded by the doorway. They all watch as my mother tries to fend off these men who could easily leave all of us in the dark. No one is stepping up to help.

I see my cousin Mike pushing his way through the crowd of my extended family.

“Need me to kick their butts, cuz?” he asks.

Mike was usually away looking for part-time manual labor. Although he was usually gone for days or weeks, he would never come back with any money. If he was to contribute, he would bring a loaf of bread. That was the most we could ever get from him, but still, that was better than what my aunt and uncle could provide.

The two servicemen seem to become even more arrogant and aggressive at the sight of Mike, and the others, rousing the argument.

“Ma’am, step away from there. You are stopping us from doing our job,” the man with the wrench warns my mother.

“No!” Ma says defiantly.

I dart my eyes over to my uncle, begging him to help Ma. Instead, he folds his arms and watches the scene as if it’s playing out in a movie theater. To be expected….

“Stay here with Mike,” I instruct Roy as I head towards Ma. I can’t let her do this alone.

When I reach her, I stand beside her blocking the box. Ma looks at me and smiles weakly. I can see the tears glistening in her eyes and I feel little needles pricking my heart. I want to hold her and tell her everything will be alright, that she doesn’t have to fight on her own. I extend my hand, take hers in mine and squeeze. Ma’s hand is so cold and frail.

But, just then, strong arms shove me and Ma away. I fall to my side and I see Ma falling in the other direction. The man with the wrench pushed us violently to the ground.

I can see a cut on Ma’s hand that is already red from fresh blood. Immediately at the sight, something is boiling in my chest, and this time, I do nothing to control it. I stare at the man who put his hands on my mother, and I feel heat percolate in my head as my eyes rest on him. A loud deafening siren resounds in my head, but I ignore it.

How dare he touch my mother? Who did he think he was? Just because we are poor does he really think he has the right to manhandle women?

My head is splitting in half from my hangover, and it feels like there is a fire burning in my eyes as I stare at the man with the wrench. Simultaneously, the siren sound gets louder.

I can see everyone around me close their ears with their hands. I wonder if they can hear the sound too.

The serviceman screams as he lets go of the wrench. It falls to the ground, but now, it's red and smoking, like embers rising off of a campfire. He looks at his hand, as anguish is written all over his face, and I can see blisters forming on his palm as he stares at it.

When I position my hands at my sides so I can rise to my feet, I can’t even feel the ground. The last I remembered, I had fallen down.

Everyone’s eyes are on me now, including my mother’s. I wonder why everyone is looking at me like I have grown two heads. Am I dreaming? Am I still drunk? I can’t quite figure out this sensation.

I raise my hand to my head, just in case. Nope, I still have one head.

The two men seem to have grown smaller…. or had I grown bigger? They look up at me and I can see the horror in their eyes.

The one with the clipboard seems to have peed himself, judging from the wet splotch on his trousers. I glance around and notice a sea of eyes transfixed upwards...at me. How had I managed to grow three feet taller in just three seconds?

Then I peer down at my legs, gasping at the sight. I am levitating in the air! 

The two men hastily turn around and scramble, crawling over one another to get back to their car.

I look at Roy who is gawking at me from behind my cousin Mike. He looks terrified…of me…his sister. 

Suddenly, the burning sensation turns cold as I see the look in my beloved young brother’s eyes. In sadness, I feel myself tumbling back to the ground.