Life on Banana Street
Canceriffic
-Flashback-
I was playing my Nintendo with Billie and Jeff in the living room waiting for my mom to come home. My dad was watching us and smiling at our 8 year oldness. Then, my mom came home. The person I looked forward to seeing each day. SLAM! My mom looked really mad as I ran towards her to hug her like everyday. “Go upstairs with your stupid little friends! You damn whore!” she yelled.
“Mommy, what’s wrong?” I asked, frightened.
“GO UPSTAIRS!” She screamed again as my dad came into the entry way to calm her down.
“Linda, what’s wrong?” he asked, holding her.
“Let me go!” She burst free of his grip as Jeff, Billie and I went to the stairs to listen.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” my dad insisted again.
“What’s wrong? Some damn Mexican comes into work today with the sorriest attempt at a job. And I’m the one to get laid off?!”
“Oh, honey. Don’t tell me you got fired…” I heard a slap and she burst out in tears, looking for alcohol she had rarely searched for before. “Linda, I don’t think alcohol is the ans-”
“OF COURSE IT IS! DON’T SAY THAT IT’S OKAY FOR ME TO GET FIRED! IT’S NOT! SHUT THE FUCK UP!” She had left him speechless when I heard her coming around the corner to come upstairs. “You little weasel!” She yelled at me. “You were sitting there the whole damn time when I told you to go to your room?!”
“M-”
“SHUT UP!” She smacked me across the face, leaving my face red, forming a bruise. Tears left my eyes as Billie, Jeff and I ran up to my room frightened of my mother.
“Are you okay?” they had said.
“No. Do I look okay?” They shook their heads and hugged me.
“I’m sorry, Hershey,” Billie said. “Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for me and Jeff to come over today.”
“No, it’s not you guys,” I tried to force a smile, but I could barely move my face, referring to the abnormally large bruise mark on it.
“We’ll stay as long as you need us,” Jeff said and hugged me again.
-End of Flashback-
“What’s your problem?” Billie asked, looking distorted at me.
“I…had a flashback…” I said spaced out and continued stirring the macaroni and cheese. He snickered.
“About what?” he joked.
“About that day…where you and Jeff were over…and my mom lost her job…”
“Are you serious?”
“No, I just made it up for my heath,” I said sarcastically. “But seriously, Billie.”
“What?”
“I think I might be dying. I’ve been having a lot of flashbacks lately and yeah…”
“You’re not dying. If you did, I’ll have to kill myself. I can’t live without you.” He smiled. I smiled as well and left the macaroni there to burn the house down. Maybe this is how I would die… “Addie, what the fuck?” Billie said and ran over to the pot. “You’re supposed to cook this.” Was he being sexist? [Yes Kia I know, Ask Kaylee Why She’s Sexist]
“You know what Billie, you can cook this,” I said, agitated.
“What has gotten into you?” I stopped what I was doing.
“I…don’t…know…” I said finally. Was I finally going insane?
-A Few Months Later-
I was sitting on the couch when I just felt the urge to move around. I wouldn’t stop moving around. “What’s your problem?” Billie asked as I was bouncing on the trampoline. We don’t have a trampoline.
“I dunno, but I don’t like it.”
-Billie’s POV-
I don’t know what’s going on with her lately, but she’s just getting on my nerves. All of a sudden, she collapsed. “Addie?!” I exclaimed. No answer. She was on the ground squirming around. I did the reasonable thing to do. Run around, then go outside to catch the attention of the neighbors to call the ambulance. It didn’t work. Bitches. So I had to wise up and call them myself. Pretty soon, they arrived and took my Addie away as I slowly watched them go down the street.
****
After about 12 hours of waiting, the doctor came and spoke to me. “Mr. Armstrong, it seems your wife has a problem.” My heart sank. I don’t want to know what it is.
“Uh…” was all I could think of to say. “What…is it?”
“She has a small portion of cancer on the left side of her brain.” I stay there speechless. “We can try to remove it, but it may not help.”
“Well is she going to live?”
“Yes, for a couple of years, but I’m not promising anything.” My wife? The love of my life? Dying?
I was playing my Nintendo with Billie and Jeff in the living room waiting for my mom to come home. My dad was watching us and smiling at our 8 year oldness. Then, my mom came home. The person I looked forward to seeing each day. SLAM! My mom looked really mad as I ran towards her to hug her like everyday. “Go upstairs with your stupid little friends! You damn whore!” she yelled.
“Mommy, what’s wrong?” I asked, frightened.
“GO UPSTAIRS!” She screamed again as my dad came into the entry way to calm her down.
“Linda, what’s wrong?” he asked, holding her.
“Let me go!” She burst free of his grip as Jeff, Billie and I went to the stairs to listen.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” my dad insisted again.
“What’s wrong? Some damn Mexican comes into work today with the sorriest attempt at a job. And I’m the one to get laid off?!”
“Oh, honey. Don’t tell me you got fired…” I heard a slap and she burst out in tears, looking for alcohol she had rarely searched for before. “Linda, I don’t think alcohol is the ans-”
“OF COURSE IT IS! DON’T SAY THAT IT’S OKAY FOR ME TO GET FIRED! IT’S NOT! SHUT THE FUCK UP!” She had left him speechless when I heard her coming around the corner to come upstairs. “You little weasel!” She yelled at me. “You were sitting there the whole damn time when I told you to go to your room?!”
“M-”
“SHUT UP!” She smacked me across the face, leaving my face red, forming a bruise. Tears left my eyes as Billie, Jeff and I ran up to my room frightened of my mother.
“Are you okay?” they had said.
“No. Do I look okay?” They shook their heads and hugged me.
“I’m sorry, Hershey,” Billie said. “Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for me and Jeff to come over today.”
“No, it’s not you guys,” I tried to force a smile, but I could barely move my face, referring to the abnormally large bruise mark on it.
“We’ll stay as long as you need us,” Jeff said and hugged me again.
-End of Flashback-
“What’s your problem?” Billie asked, looking distorted at me.
“I…had a flashback…” I said spaced out and continued stirring the macaroni and cheese. He snickered.
“About what?” he joked.
“About that day…where you and Jeff were over…and my mom lost her job…”
“Are you serious?”
“No, I just made it up for my heath,” I said sarcastically. “But seriously, Billie.”
“What?”
“I think I might be dying. I’ve been having a lot of flashbacks lately and yeah…”
“You’re not dying. If you did, I’ll have to kill myself. I can’t live without you.” He smiled. I smiled as well and left the macaroni there to burn the house down. Maybe this is how I would die… “Addie, what the fuck?” Billie said and ran over to the pot. “You’re supposed to cook this.” Was he being sexist? [Yes Kia I know, Ask Kaylee Why She’s Sexist]
“You know what Billie, you can cook this,” I said, agitated.
“What has gotten into you?” I stopped what I was doing.
“I…don’t…know…” I said finally. Was I finally going insane?
-A Few Months Later-
I was sitting on the couch when I just felt the urge to move around. I wouldn’t stop moving around. “What’s your problem?” Billie asked as I was bouncing on the trampoline. We don’t have a trampoline.
“I dunno, but I don’t like it.”
-Billie’s POV-
I don’t know what’s going on with her lately, but she’s just getting on my nerves. All of a sudden, she collapsed. “Addie?!” I exclaimed. No answer. She was on the ground squirming around. I did the reasonable thing to do. Run around, then go outside to catch the attention of the neighbors to call the ambulance. It didn’t work. Bitches. So I had to wise up and call them myself. Pretty soon, they arrived and took my Addie away as I slowly watched them go down the street.
****
After about 12 hours of waiting, the doctor came and spoke to me. “Mr. Armstrong, it seems your wife has a problem.” My heart sank. I don’t want to know what it is.
“Uh…” was all I could think of to say. “What…is it?”
“She has a small portion of cancer on the left side of her brain.” I stay there speechless. “We can try to remove it, but it may not help.”
“Well is she going to live?”
“Yes, for a couple of years, but I’m not promising anything.” My wife? The love of my life? Dying?