When Skies Are Gray

“When Skies Are Gray”

The thunder clapped outside the broken window, lighting up the edges of the shattered glass. Rain dripped from the open spaces in the ceiling causing water to build up in puddles on the floor. The floor was once a polished wood, but was now dull and ripped apart; a dance floor for the water seeking shelter. Pots and pans decorated the floor, catching dozens of raindrops open-mouthed. The constant thumping of quarter-sized rain droplets on tin, envelopes the bitter harmony of poverty.

Above all other noise in the broken down house, stood one that held no rhythm. Instead, in a room past broken in doors and creaking hallway floorboards the noise called for un-ignorable attention. Nestled underneath layers of tattered blankets was a wide-eyed child, tears rolling down her face, in response, her mother, Sadie shuffled to her bedside wearing an apron around her waist and sweat beads in her hair.

“Shh,Child. Hush, Child” she softly cooed, scooping up the swaddled two-year old, Ava, from where she lay. Resting the child on one hip, Sadie gently rubbed her palm up and down her back, creating small circles as she did so.

“You Are My Sunshine
My only sunshine.
You make me happy
When skies are grey.
You’ll never know, dear,
How much I love you.
Please don’t take my sunshine away.” Sadie sang into her daughter’s ear, brushing her hair back with her only available hand.

“The other nite, dear,
as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms.
When I awoke, dear,
I was mistaken
and I hung my head and cried.”

As she continued singing with hopes of setting her child’s worries aside, she began thinking of her own. Sadie tried to provide for her daughter the best she couldn’t but as much as the white families in her town swear up and down against segregation, keeping her out of a job didn’t put much fight against prejudice. Her husband had died only a year ago from AIDS, but she still felt it, as if he had died right in her arms through out every second of every day. Sometimes when Ava would wake in the middle of the night in tears, Sadie would think that maybe she has seen the warm eyes of her father in a dream and was unsettled at the hollow feeling of missing the man behind those eyes.

However, Ava hardly had enough time to spend with her father, let alone age enough to register him in her mind as one half of her family. Sadie and her husband had known for awhile that his death was coming, but how do you tell an unborn child that she’ll never grow to know her father because of a disease we can’t control yet?

What am I going to do? Sadie thought to herself, sighing, and gently laying her sleeping child back down into her bed. Quietly, she hummed:

I’ll always love you
And make you happy
If you will only say the same
But if you leave me
To love another
You’ll regret it all some day;

Suddenly there was a loud banging at the front door. Sadie’s eyes shot to the door of her child’s room, and then to the returned tears on Ava’s face. Ava was standing on her feet now, small eyes clamped shut, eyebrows furrowed, and mouth wide open with a wailing scream.

“Ava, Baby, you stay here now. I’ll be back in one minute. You lay down now. Mama will be right back.” Sadie reassured, rushing from the room, and closing the door securely behind her.

Over the past few months, Child Protective Services had been showing up every now and then to check up on Ava. Every time, Sadie would grab her daughter, hide in the back room; blow out all the candles that lit their way. She would not let them take her daughter away. Sadie knew the conditions they lived in weren’t suitable for a young child, but she was doing all she could. However, each time they paid a new visit, it became harder and harder to ignore the sounds of beating fists on wood. They became more and more persistent with each un-invited conquest. They wanted to take her child, and it was because of that that she had decided that this time she would stand and fight for what she cared about.

“What do you want?” Sadie called from behind the closed wooden door.
“Sadie Williams? We need to speak with you regarding your daughter.” A deep-voiced man responded, followed by a loud clap of thunder.

“She, she…she ain’t available for the taking!” Sadie bellowed, feeling the confidence that she was sure she had, slowly escaping her body.

With a few more booms of fists on wood, the deep-voiced man responded.

“That isn’t your choice Mrs. Williams. Please let us in. This is in the best interest of your daughter…”

The man behind the door talked more of the best interest of her daughter, and the more that Sadie tried to ignore the words he was saying, they seeped into her every pore. She knew; she knew that if her daughter stayed in her care any longer she wouldn’t be able to take care of her in the ways she needed to. She knew; but she also knew how much she loved her, and how much she didn’t want to let her go. For that reason, Sadie unlocked the wooden barrier, and with a weary heart, allowed the men to tumble in.

“Please, please don’t take her away from me. She’s all I got left…” She pleaded eyes blurry from welling tears.

The men ignored her plea and headed in the direction of the hallway, stepping over rain-filled pots and pans as they walked. Suddenly, they were stopped in their tracks. Standing knee high in front of the tall men in black was Ava, wiping the tears from her cheeks and the sleep from her eyes. A stuffed bear hung from her tiny fingers, and she looked around with scared eyes.

“Mama?” the little child cried reaching her hand out to her mother and taking a step forward. She was immediately cut off by the blackly-clad men, sending more tears rushing down her innocent face.

Sadie watched the deep-voiced man kneel down to Ava’s eye level and tell her soft brown eyes that they were taking her away for a while. They told her not to worry because she may be coming back, but to pack a few things just in case. Sadie watched Ava’s soft brown eyes look at them in confusion. She knew she didn’t understand, but she dared not come any closer; these men were taking her daughter away.

It’s for the best Sadie told herself, and immediately bit her lip.

“Mama?” Ava called again but was drowned out by a clap of thunder.

“Do as you’re told child. You go pack some things.” Sadie ordered with the only sternness left in her body.

Once Ava had returned with a small pink backpack and her teddy bear still clutched in her hand, what happened next was a blur to Sadie. She vaguely remembered the sounds of the rain hitting the tin pots and the sound of the dominating thunder blotting out every third word the men spoke to her. With every thing they said to her, Sadie simply stared at her daughter, watching her move about as if it was the last time she was ever going to see her. Maybe this is the last time I’ll see her, she thought.

She remembers the sobbing, and the begging on her part to encourage the men to let her child remain with her mother. They ignored her, more of less because they couldn’t make out what she was saying. Sadie remembered the deep-voiced man picking up her daughter and resting her on one hip, the way she had held her before, then heading for the front door. In panic, she sprang for her daughter, reaching for her crying child’s hands and praying to herself: Oh Lord, don’t let this be. Don’t let this be. Ava’s fingers grazed her mother’s rough hand, then stretched over the man’s shoulder, dropping her teddy bear in the efforts to reach her mother. Scooping up the stuffed animal, Sadie held it to her chest, and watched her daughter and three blackly-clad invaders exit through foggy eyes. Quietly, and hopelessly she sand to the silhouette of her vanishing daughter:

“You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine.
You make me happy
When skies are grey.
You’ll never know, dear,
How much I love you.
Please don’t take my sunshine away.”