Shoe Story

"Kaya!" my baby sister screams, "What about supper?"

"I'll be back soon," I yell over my shoulder.

           I knew I should not have started my run so close to the time when I had to fix dinner. But hearing my mama crying was more then I can take.  Sometimes I wish she would come downstairs and realize that she still has five children that are alive and well.  Jake, my stepdad, agrees with me but mama does not seem to be listening to us. All she does is just stare ahead with that lost look in her eyes.  I shake my head my head and put the thoughts of my mother to the back of my mind. Then I focus on my breathing and my pace and run.

When I get back to my house my baby brother and my baby sister are waiting for me in the kitchen.

"Kaya, look," Levi exclaims, " Ava and me set the table all by ourselves."

"Ava and I," I correct him. "How did you get the dishes?" I look around the kitchen to check for any signs of broken dishes.

"Out of the dishwasher," Ava replies, "We heard it sing so we knew that it was done."

"They were hot so we used the paddy thingys," Levi adds to Ava's explanation. 

"Hot pads," I correct him, once more, " Where is Jake and the older boys?" I ask.

"Well," Ava begins as she pulls out her chair at the dinner table, "Daddy is upstairs with Mommy, and Lukie and Si are in the basement watching Toy Story."

"Toy Story?" I raise my eyebrows for I have heard my thirteen and twelve year old brothers complain more then once about having to watch that movie with Levi.

"They were watching it with us but we came upstairs to set the table for you. I'm hungry. Can we have hot dogs?" Levi switches the topic to food once more.

I begin to cook dinner without even bothering to change out of my sweats and sneakers. I'm gross right now I know but I never know when I will have to get out of the house again.  As I cook the hot dogs and toss the salad I listen to Levi and Ava talk about their day.

"Hey Kaya," Levi starts carefully, "Do you think that Mommy will come down to dinner today?"

"Yeah, she should she has not been downstairs since the funeral.

I look at my four year old sister and three year old brother and try to think of how to put what I wish to say to them in words.

But the moment is broken when most of the family joins us at the dinner table lured by the smell of food. Jake comes from the upstairs with puffy eyes, and Simon and Luke come up from the basement as quiet as mice. Normally my brothers being quiet is a blessing but right now the quietness is because of sorrow not peace. We sit down to enjoy our meal of hot dogs and salad. At the food of the table my mother's chair is empty. Just like the nursery above our heads.