Eccense

As I am sitting here looking at this little girl with her long Ponytails bouncing as she played hopscotch sketched in lime colored chalk. She is wearing a red and white jeans short outfit with her bleached white bobby socks and clean Keds. Her ponytails held together with red ponytail holders with matching barrettes. She has dancing ebony eyes, caramel skin tone, high cheek bones, and the heaviest dark eyebrows. She is so pretty. Summer evenings there are always kids playing out front of the three flats apartment building where I live and own. There would be times I want to shout, "go play somewhere else because I want peace." You need to know I can’t live without my cable. Always pay that bill. Anyway I continue to study her while she tosses the pebble in the different boxes.

I ask her name. She looked at me with those eyes what we call bedroom eyes and says, "my name is Eccense." I remember how I played by myself many a days as a kid. I asked her "where do you live?" "Won’t your parents be worried and come looking for you?" Eccense replied, "I don’t have any parents." "What?" I replied. She looks around to make sure no one can hear her. She lifts her slim finger to her mouth while leaning toward me. I am attentive now. I had to laugh inward she does remind me of me. She peers at the neighbors window and the upstairs floors above me. I’m really stuck now. "How old are you?" "I am 7 years old," she says proudly protruding her tiny chest. "My parents are dead, they died when I was one years old," she says with no sadness in her eyes. What I see in her eyes ran cold chills through me. I sort of regret I engaged in a conversation with this little girl. I just couldn’t leave her. A force greater than me kept me there stuck like chuck. My next question is "who is taking care of you?" "I take care of myself that’s who?" The next thing I know she gets in my face and hiss at me saying, "you are not to tells anyone, Simone Taylor." I grab hold of the banister retreating backwards staring wide eyed, I never told this girl my name. "How do you know my name," I asked hesitantly. Was she trying to scare me? What is happening to kids these days? I grew up in a village mode all adults of the block watched us , discipline and spent time with us. It was nothing wrongs with a neighbor whupping my butt when I was mischievous. Not today trying to discipline a child would holler child abuse, going to jail, and told to mind your own business or get cussed out by the child or a group of them will try to kick your ass. I look her straight in her eyes and said, "Eccense if you don’t get out of my face you will regret it." She steps back, "okay you win this time. "HA, I know your name, I’ve been knowing you since I moved here Ms. Taylor." "HOW," I answer angrily. She laughs saying, "now you’re going to act like you don’t know me. I’m from Tupelo, Mississippi." I sifting through my memory bank wondering WHO IS SHE? I narrowed my eyes; she looks like my brother Sylvester. Damn, Eccense look just like him. I barely heard my disbelief whispering, "hell naw!" I am confuse I remember my brother was supposed to have had a baby sent to Mississippi. Eccense couldn’t be this child; Sylvester’s child should be 19 years old now. "Are you some kin to me?" Her laughter shook her little body replying, "Yes I am Aunt Simone."

All I could do was tilt my head to the side like a confused puppy. This little girl must be retarded, or something is wrong with her I thought to myself. "Listen Eccense I don’t know who you are trying to spin, you got the wrong one." I push her to the side and walk inside my door before I can move any further she ran into my back hugging me crying, "Please let me stay with you I have no where else to go." My heart just opens wide I’m a sucker for little kids crying. What can I do, repeating in my mind, "God please help me," I sigh.