PART 6
The next day, I walked to a discount grocery store.
It was about half a mile away.
I took the twenty-dollar envelope.
I did not bring all the cash.
Only ten.
I was afraid of losing it.
I bought bread.
A small jar of peanut butter.
Store-brand soup.
A bag of rice.
Bananas.
The total was a little over nine dollars.
I stood at the register doing math in my head.
The cashier was an older woman.
She looked at me.
“You carrying all that home?”
I nodded.
“Where’s your mom?”
I froze.
Then said.
“At work.”
It came out automatically.
That was the first lie I told for her.
I did not even realize I was protecting her.
The cashier put everything into two bags.
Then doubled the bottom of one because the cans were heavy.
“Careful crossing.”
I nodded.
Then walked home.
PART 7
The bags hurt my fingers.
I switched hands every few minutes.
At one intersection, a truck turned too fast and splashed water onto my shoes.
I almost dropped the bread.
When I finally got home, I locked the door.
Put the food on the counter.
Then counted my money.
Ten dollars and sixty-three cents left.
I wrote the amount on the envelope.
$10.63.
Then underneath.
DAY 4.
I do not know why I did that.
Maybe I wanted proof I was doing well.
Maybe I wanted to show Mom when she came home.
Look.
I made it last.
I was responsible.
I was not helpless.
