I laid across the bed tearing out pages from the magazines,  Ms. Louis had given me when I helped her clean out her garage. I had plastered pictures all over the walls. Pretty pictures of women dressed in pretty clothes. Pretty houses and beautiful cars. I even had taped up pictures of tasty food and some sparkling diamonds. These pictures made me feel warm inside – reminded me of everything I didn’t have but also reminded me that one day I could be one of those fine looking women driving one of those fancy Mercedes and wearing one of those three carat diamond rings. I knew eventually mama would scream and complain and made me rip them down when she became angry. It wouldn’t be the first time and it wouldn’t be the last time. Sometimes it felt good just to admire beautiful pricey things even if you couldn’t afford them. I think it made mama mad because she was too old to believe in magic and the pictures were a slap in her face and a constant reminder of everything she would never have in this lifetime.

Granny had told me that dreams made a person strong. My granny was a real smart woman and it tugged at my heart that her health was failing and I was losing a special part of her that had always sustained me though difficult times. She always told me it was healthy to dream, because dreams made a person not content with what they lacked in their lives. Granny told me I was blessed because I had the ability to dream. Granny had always given me what I needed and what my mother could not allow herself to do. Granny was not always so giving, she told me their was a time when she was different, when it was difficult to express her love with my mother and now she was making up for lost time.

“Bernice, Bernice”, I heard granny calling me. Only she wasn’t calling me she was calling my mother. I’m Jade but granny is having a bad day and today I will be Bernice. I get up from the bed and walk down the narrow hallway that leads to the living room. Granny is standing there holding on to the doorway. “Didn’t you hear me. Bernice I’m not feeling well and you in that room playing that music. I hope you not. Cause you know I told you don’t be running up that electric bill.” I nodded my head and moved pass her. “Now I need you to go get some bread. Do you hear me girl. I’m sick of talking.” She’s talking fast and I don’t want to upset her. I understand that sometimes its best to let her ramble and I do not utter a sound. “She goes in her little red coin purse and produces a winkled bill. “Take this, I want four loaves of bed.”

I open my hand and take the crumbled dollar bill from granny‘s long slender wrinkled fingers. She wanted me to go buy some white bread from the super market. “Don’t dare lose it she said and buy four loaves and make sure them loaves are fresh. I want you to squeeze each one like you was loving them. I don’t want no stale bread. It’s bad enough they charge twenty-five cents a loaf, cause I can remember when they only cost a dime.” Granny had began to raise her voice and I could see her veins in her forehead jumping up and down like a rollercoaster. She walked away limping in her pink fluffy soiled slippers and then she turned back and gave me a hard stare, as if I had dirt on my face or worst.

“One more thang girl you betta go change your good sneakers and put on your old ones. Aint no body gonna be buying shoes all the time.” She lowered her tone as she guided herself into the tattered blue wing chair. She had stacked two pillows on top of each other because she complained the chair was too low and it was difficult to get up and down. She had told my mother that she was constantly having to check on me. This I found humorous considering she was always hollering for me and I was the one running back and forth. Peace didn’t come until she was tucked in her bed in the room she shared with my mother, then it was my mother’s job to deal with her snoring, coughing and sometimes wetting the bed. There were times she wore me out, but all I had to do was think about how much fun and laughter she had given me before she got sick. Yes, when I thought about those good times I realized I was glad Granny was with us and not in some gloomy old folks home. The good days we would sit on the front porch and talk. She would tell me stories about my mother when she was young. She would talk about herself and how good looking she was and how all the boys swarm behind her. She was the honey and they were the bees. Told me Bernice wasn’t pretty but she used to have some shape. Also told me my mama stayed in the bible too much and that’s why she didn’t have a man. Granny said it was good to love the Lord but one had to understand Jesus wasn’t looking for a earthly wife. She would make me laugh and I would laugh and sometimes her laughter was contagious because even mama would smile. Granny had been just as pretty as those women in the magazines. Some times we sip our too sweet ice tea and look though her old picture album. All the pictures were black and white. Granny was dazzling and I wished I had been pretty like Granny. My mama said God knew what he was doing when he made me plain Jane and Grace my sister, well mama used to say she was as pretty as Princess Grace, whoever she was I never knew. Mama said Grace was too pretty for her own good.

Granny raised her head, she had dozed off for a second, “What you standing there for. Bernice you betta hurry and get your butt to the store.” She hollered and then closed her eyes again.

“Yes mam, I told her.” As I crept from the small dingy living room and walked into my bedroom. I sat on the bed and wondered how was I going to buy fourth loaves of bread for a dollar. My granny was eighty-seven years old and was suffering from dementia. I was responsible to watch her this summer. She used to have her own house across town but since she got sick my mother had brought her home to stay with us. Some days she did pretty good. She remembered where she was and who I was. But days like this she thought I was my mother. I looked down at my dirty white tennis shoes they were the only pair I had to wear that fit without hurting my pinkies. I bent down on the floor and looked under the bed, there they go I said out loud. I found a pair of black tennis that belonged to Grace. Grace is the oldest and only sister I have, but she ran off last year and we don’t talk about her anymore. It’s not that she’s dead or anything bad like that but she ran off and took up with a street guy. She moved in with him and when mama found out about it she said Grace was dead to us. My mother is poor but a very proud woman. Grace lives with a dope dealer, she dresses fly and even drives a shiny BMW. Mama said she sold her soul to the devil. So we don’t talk about Grace anymore only when granny is doing good and ask about Grace. Well then we have to talk about Grace but mama don’t like it one bit. Every now and then I get a glimpse of Grace driving down the street with her convertible top down. Her hair blows in the wind and she looks like a movie star with her black shades on. I never let her see me. It’s easier that way, doesn’t hurt as much not having Grace in my life. I guess in a way I’m angry that Grace up and left me behind since now when mama is angry she takes out her anger on me and that can hurt a lot, especially when she decides to hit me with a shoe.

I have on the pair of tennis. They feel good and they look better than the ones I wear everyday. Wearing them as I walk down the street makes me think of Grace and how much I miss her. I walked down forty-seven and past Charles house. Glad he’s not outside because he always teases me. He calls me names and I hate when he runs up on me and gets real close because his breathe always stinks like fish and under his arms has the worst funky odor. I don’t think the boy knows what a bar and soap is good for the body. Charles is around fifteen or so and he’s retarded. I used to play with him when we were young and I probably would still play with him, but now he’s become aggressive and touchy – which I don’t like. Mama said he may be retarded but she said his head is wrapped around sin, whatever that means. I hurry past his house walking as fast as I can. I don’t slow down until I reach the corner and now I’m free to stroll at my own leisure.

It’s a beautiful sunny day and I can feel the sun dancing across my bare arms and face. It feels good. The sky is clear and I wish I could grab one of those clouds from the sky and sail all over the country. Everyone I know is at the park not stuck in the house or running some crazy errand. I am on a mission, my mission is to buy four loaves of bread with one dollar. The ninety-nine cents store sales bread for a dollar and I only got a dollar. There’s a long line at Saint Cecila’s Church. I’m almost there. I look both ways when I reach Normandie Avenue. No cars coming – I make a dash across the street and hit the curb but not before I hear someone blow and holler out their car window. “Stupid ass”

I go to the end of the line and ask the fat lady in front of me, “What they giving away.”

She turns back and said, “They giving away food girl. Why else you think I be standing in this long line sweating like a hog.”

I hold back my laughter, I can see the sweat pouring down her face, like someone threw a bucket of water over her head. Her make up is running and she has huge stains under her arm pits. The red dress she has on is too short and too tight and I can imagine the seams popping loose.

“You know sweetie I don’t think they gonna give you nothing. You gotta be an adult. She tells me as she sips from a can of soda. Watching her sipping from that soda and smacking on peanuts that she produces from her pocket make me a bit hungry and I feel my stomach rumbling. She’s big as a hog because she eats a lot. This is just my honest obeservation that people are fat because they eat too much. I’m skinny because I don’t get quite enough to eat. I’m tired of beans and chicken and when mama serves chicken I get just one piece and if it‘s a breast that would be a different story.

“Sweetie, the fat lady says between chewing on them peanuts. “I sure hope they don’t turn you away. I’ve seen them do that before.”

I don’t budge. Maybe she thinks more for her if I get out the line. I will take my chances. I been standing in that line for nearly an hour. Too long I know but now I don’t dare leave. I then put too much time in and behind me the line is wrapped around the block. Finally it’s my turn and the sister ask where are my parents. I cross my fingers behind my back, that way I’m not telling no lie. I explain to her that my granny’s mind is bad and my mama was standing in the line with granny, but my granny started peeing on herself and then she got ready to do a number two. I told the sister with a look of pure innocence on my face, that my mama told me to stand in line while she walked granny down to the

gas station. It worked cause the sister gave me a box filled with food. And I broke out with a smile when I saw she gave me two loaves of bread. I was able to trade the fat lady the four cans of spam for her two loaves of bread. I did good I thought as I headed home. I had the four loves of bread that granny sent me to the store for. Plus there was eggs, cereal, cookies, rice, tuna and some other things.

I sat down the box on the curb. It was getting heavy and I had started to feel warm. I eased behind the bush. There was Bertha and Audrey. I did not want them to see me with the box. Didn’t need them teasing me about how poor I was. I watch them laughing and shaking their butts as they walked down Normandie. Cute shorts I thought. I looked at my old jeans I had cut off at the knees. I would not be getting any summer clothes or new school clothes unless a miracle happened into my life or the church had another giveaway. We were dirt poor worst than somebody that received a check from the state. I knew for a fact that Bertha and Audrey’s mother didn’t work, but they always had nice clothes to wear. It was difficult to accept the fact that my mother worked twelve hour shits at BG bottling plant and we still never had any extra money. Last summer I had a job at the park, couldn’t work this summer since somebody needed to watch Granny. Uncle Bo was coming to stay with us to help take care of Granny at the end of the summer, but for now it‘s my job. I walked and sweated with that box and for a moment I felt like taking out the bread and leaving the rest of the stuff on the curb but that would be stupid because we could use every bit of what was in that box.

Again I was glad Charles wasn’t in front of his house as I passed holding the box. Thank goodness for small miracles. I went to the back of the house and let myself inside. Granny was sound asleep. I went into the kitchen and put the food away. I took the box to my room. I could use it to store some stuff. I opened the closet and sat it on the floor. I was exhausted. I laid across my lumpy bed but not before I had took off Grace’s tennis and hid them under the bed. Grace shoes bought me luck today. I took the crumpled dollar bill out of my pocket and slid it under my mattress. For a few minutes I thought about giving it right back to Granny and then I figured I would save it for the next time she hollered about buying four loaves of bread. Next time I might not be as fortunate but least I would have half the money to buy two loafs of bread and two would be better than not being able to buy four, yeah next time I would tell granny it was a depression and a person could only buy two loaves. I smiled to myself as I thought about it. Yeah next time I would tell Granny that lie with my fingers crossed and hope she wouldn’t ask for the change.