Who Asked You? Read Online Free PDF Page A

chance I get. It’s my way of keeping tabs on what my daughter is and isn’t giving them. The least I can do is help them see that the world is bigger than their neighborhood. And so they don’t have to watch it on television. It does take a lot of energy to handle two little boys. Believe me, I already know this. I make sure to take my vitamins before we go anywhere. And go we do: to the park, the zoo, the Tar Pits, and every museum in Los Angeles. They love Shamu. Said they want to live in Disneyland. I don’t know how many of those kiddie movies I’ve slept through, because Trinetta makes them watch them all on video.
    And that Ricky is a fish. I have to make him get out of the tub and the pool. I’m too scared to let them go into the ocean, because I never learned how to swim, but I take them over to Tammy’s. Her pool is small, but to them it’s Olympic size. Luther is a bookworm. He loves going to the library. Ricky’s too loud and likes to run up and down the stacks. We’ve been asked to leave on too many occasions. They wear me out, but it’s the least I can do, since they didn’t ask for the life they got.
    I don’t hear the toilet flush, but out she comes. Looking a little frazzled.
    “Say goodbye to your mama, boys.”
    They wave. I can tell they’re anxious for her to leave. And before I can say another word, Trinetta is out the front door.
    “Hello, Miss Trinetta,” I hear Mr. Jones say. But I don’t hear her say hello back. I pick up the lunch bag and take it to him.
    “May God continue to bless you,” he says.
    I look at my grandsons. Their hands are clasped together in their laps. They already look bored. I’m too tired to entertain them. But thank God I always go to Target and buy puzzles, crayons, and coloring books and keep them in my big drawer.
    “So, what would you young men like to do?”
    “I would like to eat some of your food,” Ricky says.
    “Me, too,” Luther says. “I love your fried chicken.”
    “How do you know that’s chicken you smell?” I ask.
    “Everybody knows what fried chicken smell like.”
    “Come on back to the dining room, and I’ll fix you both a plate. And then would you like to color or do a puzzle?”
    Ricky nods.
    “I wanna play video games,” Luther says. “Please?”
    “How about first thing in the morning when your grandpa’s sound asleep?”
    “Okey-dokey. Then can we put on our new pajamas now?” he asks.
    I just look at him.
    “Please?”
    “Let’s wait until it gets dark and after you have your baths.”
    “Okey-dokey,” Ricky says.
    “He copied that off me. How many days we staying over here again, Grandma?” Luther asks.
    “Excuse me?”
    He thinks about what he’s just said.
    “How many days
are
we staying over here, Grandma?”
    “Two or three.”
    “We wish it could be forever, don’t we, Ricky?”
    Ricky nods his head.
    I don’t even want to think about how long forever might be. I make them wash their hands. They sit at the table. They put their napkins in their laps. They bless their food. Eat every bit of it. They take their baths. Put on their brand-new pajamas. They pile onto the bed next to their grandpa but do not like watching
Dora the Explorer
, so as soon as he is fast asleep they grab the remote and turn to a western. Lee David wakes up, looks at the screen, then turns and looks at them and says, “Ride ’em, cowboy!”
    On day three I don’t hear a peep from Trinetta and her phone is still off.
    On day four, I wake up knowing the kids have to go to school and I have to go to work, so I call her again, hoping her phone is back on. When it rings, I’m all set to cuss her out when a man answers. “Who is this?” I ask.
    “Who is this?” he asks.
    “This is Betty Jean. Trinetta’s mother. Where is she and why are you answering her phone?”
    “She busy.”
    “Put her on the phone. Please.”
    “I said she busy. I can relay a message when she finished.”
    “Ask her when she’s coming to pick