+1+
I don’t understand most of what goes on in court, I was distracted and kept looking around trying to see if Elijah was somewhere in the court room. I’d come to family court fully prepared to defend myself, Dr. Lane had written me a character reference and my lab partner, Layla, offered to write a character reference for me even though we didn’t know each other that well.
I’d taken the day off work and made it to court right after the doors opened. Every seat in the courtroom was already taken, lawyers and clients were constantly waiving each other down and occasionally someone would burst out in tears. I’d put on a pair of black pants and a long sleeve purple sweater and borrowed some of Maddie’s Cautious Cranberry lipstick to make myself look older . . . more professional.
When it was my turn I was rushed up the front by the bailiff. I was much closer to the judge than I had thought I’d be and it wrecked my nerves. My court advocate held my hand as the judge began to talk, but the advocate hadn’t been that much help. The judge began to lecture me, he knew about my housing situation and about Rose Alexander’s overdose death at our former Section 8 apartment. He’d known about the shelter and that we were currently homeless. It looked bad, but we were managing.
“Do you have any family who can take temporary custody of your son?” The judged asked.
My head started spinning. How could I have family to take care of Elijah? He was my only family. Sure, I’d told Severine about what happened but I’d told her as a friend, no-so-much as a foster sister. She had offered to fly back from Beijing to watch him, but I doubted the court would give her custody.
“I—I…No…”
I wanted to explain that I have been doing the best I can in my circumstances, but no one gives me the chance. I want to ask them how they can hold me up to a certain standard of childcare when they won’t help me subsidize my food or rent.
“Next.”
I snapped to attention as my advocate leads me away. I hadn’t even been listening to what the judge was saying.
“What happened?” I ask my advocate, “I sort of. . .Blanked.”
My advocate sighed.
“They are going to re-investigate you in 30 days. If everything looks good, they will grant you custody. After that and you will be subject to a surprise visits for about six months. That’s good, though. I think studying to being a nurse helped. “
It wasn’t until I was alone on the courthouse steps that I realized what that meant. A whole month without Elijah. I’d miss an entire month of his growing up. He’d be four months old and he could learn to sit up or hold things and I’d miss all of it. He could get another ear infection and I wouldn’t be there. He had a heart condition and I didn’t know how the state handled medication or who would monitor him.
I called CPS and left a detailed message about Elijah’s fragile heart condition and the medicine he was taking. The message cut off in the middle and I had to call again to make sure I mentioned everything. When I hung up I got a good look at the time.
I was going to be late for work.
+2+
The atmosphere in the apartment started to slowly change without a baby. When I got back from class at night there was usually a party just beginning or slowing down. It usually started with just a few people from Maddie’s acting class just hanging out, then they’d invite over more friends, classmates, significant others and it would escalate from there.
When I came in that night there were about 15 people lounging around the tiny apartment. Eric was setting up his new iHome and 90’s alternative pumped through the speakers. I shimmed pass two Goth teenagers to get into the kitchen. I ventured over to the snack table where there were bowls filled with chips and a nice looking fruit tray, I helped myself knowing Eric never charged us for the food he served at his parties.
“This doesn’t seem right”, Tomas said coming up beside me. I was surprised to see him, he’d been working 18 hour shifts now that he didn’t have to watch Elijah. Because he could tattoo fast and clean, Venus let him work the pop-up shops she set up in clubs. He always came back smelling like cheap perfume but with a lot of cash.
I really wanted to lay down but our mattress was out on the balcony and some sort of improve game was happening on the floor space we rented.
“What doesn’t?” I said pouring some cranberry juice into an empty red cup. Eric would probably throw a fit because it was supposed to be a mixer.
“You. Me. West Village house party.” He said unzipping his hole-ridden sweatshirt to reveal his clean pressed gray V-neck shirt that showed off most of his tattoos, his arms and right side of his neck were almost completely covered. Sometimes I wish I could wash them away so he could be who he used to be beneath them.
“I’m younger than most of these people”, I said, “. . . and I just. . . I can’t relate. I just want to know Elijah’s safe, I want a quiet place to study and a warm dinner.”
“What happened in court, today”, he asked.
“They said I had thirty days to meet the judges requirement to have Elijah placed back with me. I’m going to get in so much trouble if they find out I’ve been giving him milk, but formula was too expensive and he was just throwing it up, if they would have let me explain--”
“We’ll figure it out.” Tomas said.
I pulled out the signed documents from the judge that showed what I would have to do in order to get Elijah back.
“I need to be in a drug-free sanitary home with a substantial and official lease, demonstrate I can provide appropriate nutrition, a dedicated schedule and child care plan. That’s a lot of money we don’t have. You need to get a teady job. Then we can get a place”
“Doing what?” he said, “I don’t even have a GED.”
“Well, you used to work at a convenience store, there are ton of stores in the city. The bodega by the hospital is hiring.”
He shook his head,“I make better money at the shop. Besides I have a prison record, Sofia. The money with Venus is good for someone like me. I just need to get a few good clients—“
“I know, but Elijah can’t come back if we are still renting a mattress.” I said noticing the piercing in his eyebrow for the first time.
“You know Sofie, maybe you should let the state place him. You have full custody--just think about it, okay. I mean I would have been better if the state hadn’t kept giving me back to my mother. You lucked out when you got adopted—“
“I wasn’t adopted”, I corrected him, “I was placed in a good foster home.”
“Right, well you know babies get adopted fast, especially in the city. A baby with blonde hair and green eyes will get adopted really quickly. Probably by a rich family.”
“He’s my only family Tomas. I need to take care of him so. So…“
“So.” Tomas said.
“So I’m not alone when you’re gone.” I said and immediately regretted, “Look I’m tired. I need to get some sleep. I don’t think Maddie and Eric will mind if I take a nap on their bed.”
“…you don’t want to go into the bedroom”, he said.
I pressed my back against the wall by the kitchenette and slid down to sit on the floor. Tomas pushed himself out of the wheelchair and I helped him ease on to the floor next to me. I started to fall asleep as one of Maddie’s actress friends sat on his other side and started flirting with him, Tomas wasn’t a great flirt but he’d do it if it got him a client. I leaned into the corner and tried to block it out. I wanted to put my pajamas on and I had to pee but there was a line for the bathroom. I let myself drift away and when I work up the next morning I realized it had snowed and our fucking mattress was still outside.
+++
Tomas once told me cross town buses were for people who’d given up on their big city dreams.
I’d expected Tomas to say some version of that on the 25 minute bus ride into Queens. It was one of those rare afternoons where Tomas had taken a few hours off and I was between classes.
We had to wait an extra ten minutes for an operating accessible bus and arrived in the small neighborhood of Greenwillow, just outside of Astoria, Queens, a little late. Luckily our perspective landlord Mr. Randolph hadn’t seemed to mind . He was sitting on the stoop of a Dunkin Donuts reading a newspaper. Next to the coffee shop there was a large laundromat and two small grocery stores.
You couldn’t even tell you weren’t in Manhattan anymore, I mean sure the building were less grand, the sidewalks were a mess, the restaurants weren’t as trendy, subways were few and far between and the residents were a little older... but it was still New York City.
Mr. Randolph was a short older man who shuffled along the street like he had all the time in the world. He sort of sniffed into his coffee when he saw Tomas who had covered his tattoos with a scarf and gloves. I suspected Mr. Randolph , a retired parole officer, could spot a former user.
“The neighborhood is mostly older residents, you know”, he said as we turned into a residential area, “The kids don’t really come around anymore.”
I nod and Tomas follows behind us in his wheelchair. We cross over to a street lined with candy colored aluminum duplexes.
“My mother lives down the street”, he said, “She’s getting on in age. I live in Staten Island so I don’t get over as much as I’d like.”
“Well”, I said, “If you rent to us I can look in on her from time to time. I’ll be a registered nurse next fall, so I can help if she needs assistance”
“That so?” he said looking over our rental application.
I nodded. The RNs were letting me work with patients more often. Mostly changing bed pans, dressing and bathing-- things they didn’t want to do but had become routine for me. I spent most of my rotation in geriatrics, where in true NYC fashion an elderly patient had passed and his former caretaker told me about the duplex.
Mr. Randolph dug out the keys to a rundown one-story peach and orange painted duplex. Mr. Randolph hesitated before moving up the two steps to open the crooked screen door.
“Uh, my son can build a ramp”, He offered, “He likes to do odd jobs like that.”
The inside of the small duplex was drafty. The carpeted floor felt damp under my sneakers, Mr. Randolph flipped a switch and a single lightbulb flickered on. The tiny living room was painted bright yellow and green, it barley fit the wooden coffee table and greasy leather couch. To the left was kitchenette with a sink, a two burner stove top, and stacked refrigerator/freezer..
Mr. Randolph weaved behind me and pulled out the “murphy” style dining table folded against the kitchen wall, it’ was caked in dried food. It could fit two . . . maybe three.
“It’s 740 sq feet”, he said. We walked down a short hallway and
turned into the bedroom. There was just enough room for a double bed and a
dresser. The ensuite bathroom is all pink linoleum but there was an accessible
tub. Adjacent to bedroom door was another
door that lead to a small yard.
“You can keep the couch” Mr. Randolph said, “The other side of the duplex had to be gutted…mold and all… but if you sign a five year lease I can maybe see about building a small room on to the back.”
“Soifa, are you sure about this ?”, Tomas asked.
“I . . . have you found anyplace else?” I whispered.
For $1250 this place was a steal. It was impossible to find
a place that wasn’t a studio for less than $2000 in the city, plus the big
leasing companies had too many income requirements. The $1250 was a little more than my entire
first month’s paycheck, but it was worth it if it meant getting Elijah back. I’d
have to keep a tight budget to make sure I covered childcare, electricity, groceries
and the cell phone bill. I also had to consider the cost of bus passes. I knew
if Tomas had any money left over after getting his medicine and making his debt payments he would help.
“You won’t see any roaches”, Mr. Randolph said trying to make the sale “Greenwillow is one of those up and coming neighborhoods. We even got a few chains. He raised his Dunkin Donuts cup as proof.
“Sofia, are you sure?” Tomas asked again.
“Do you like sleeping on Maddie and Eric’s floor?”
He didn’t answer. Tomas wasn’t one of those people who was caught up in wanting to have a nice home. I knew his hesitation was all about the location, but he would never say that. Coming to New York City and making it in Manhattan was the life he wanted to live. If this was the first compromise what was the next?
“I got to get back to the shop”, Tomas said, “This is all you, Sofie.”
He took his time getting down the steps and I surveyed the place one more time.
“I’ll take it”, I told Mr. Randolph.
+3+
I didn’t recognize Elijah when they put him in my arms. He’d gotten so big and had learned to put his fingers in his mouth. His blonde hair had grown out and he was a lot squirmier then he used to be.
I’d been on my best behavior when CPS came to inspect the new place. Over the past few weeks I’d liberated a few industrial cleaning supplies from the hospital and spent the night scrubbing the floor and sweeping up dead bugs. I Googled how to deep clean a carpet by hand and borrowed a vacuum from Mr. Randolph’s mother down the street. Once we started talking she refused to let me leave and loudly complained about her blonde home care assistant, who was watching soap operas and texting in the living room.
I took my radio of storage and blasted Top 40 while scrubbing baseboards and scraping dirt out of the linoleum floor. The kitchen needed the most work and when I was done I’d used an entire gallon of ammonia to get all the grime off. I’d decided the greasy couch was beyond saving and took out a line of credit to get a very practical couch.
Mr. Randolph came by to help me paint and introduced me to some of the neighbors. There was a daycare a few streets away run by two generations of Sorenson women. I had to pay a premium to get Elijah in.
DiVo from the tattoo shop knew a guy with a truck who helped me move in the mattress, bed frame and nightstand Tomas and I had been storing in Venus’ basement. Apart from blankets, a box of toys and two bags of clothes that’s all we had. Tomas rode in the truck with DiVo when we moved but there wasn’t much he could do, so he just went back to work.
The CPS woman inspected the place carefully. I’d set Elijah’ crib up in the corner of the bedroom with a basket of toys. Eljah was really fussy and I thought maybe he didn’t recognize me. I focused on trying to comfort him while the woman finished her inspection. She opened the cabinets which were full of formula and baby food that had appeared shortly after Tomas’ wedding band disappeared.
“Okay”, she said, “You seem good. We’ll check up on you in a few weeks.”
“Thank you.”
I spend the rest of the day monitoring Elijah and I got a bit of a thrill when Tomas came back. He was using his key for the first time.
“Look whose back”, I said but he couldn't hear me over Elijah’s crying.
“He’s gotten big”, He said taking him from me. The movement upset Elijah more, but I knew he just had to get used to his new environment.
I went back to the homemade vegetable soup I had on the stovetop, from the corner of my eye I watched Tomas move from his wheelchair to the floor with a fussy Elijah. It was a really good thing the other side of the duplex was vacant.
We ate dinner on the couch. Tomas was quiet which made me think he’d had a bad day at the shop. Venus and the other artist had been undeniably generous to us, but it was still a competitive place to work.
This was was going to have be our home or the next five years and more importantly where Martina Haskell found me.