*
Mom was stronger and braver than she had ever been. It took eight years and moving to Toronto for her to leave my father Isaac.
The night before, Mom took my brother, sister, and me to a new place—a nice apartment that looked like a hotel, with a swampy green awning with cracks of egg yolk sun shining through. I followed the awning with my eyes, tilting back until everything flipped upside down.
Mom rushed us into the building. Her eyes darted around like a hunting hawk. She pressed the buzzer numbers and opened the door quickly and carefully, like a spy. I barely had time to take in this new place: the chocolate carpets, caramel walls, and gold lights like candy bar wrappers. What was this brand new city with flashing cars, egg yolk suns, and candy buildings?
We stepped into the glossy steel elevator, my mother still checking the surroundings. She had transformed into Secret Agent Mother Courage.
Operation: Escape.
Mission: Bring rookie agents Joshua, Chiamaka, and Chinonye to headquarters.
Destination: Chocolate Laboratories, a random street, Toronto.
We shot up four floors and entered a new hallway. Secret Agent M.C. pushed us though the hall at a light jog. We stopped at room 419. Mom took out the key, pushed it through the keyhole, turned the knob, and opened the door. Access granted.
Mom saw how tired we were and put us all to bed. There was only one queen-sized bed in the room, already set with silky blankets of gold and caramel and cream. We dove in like Dunkaroos and fell asleep.
I woke up to loud thumps on the door. I looked up and saw Mom bracing herself against the door with all her strength.
He had found us. He had found the secret headquarters.
Isaac pounded against the door harder and harder. Before I could get up, he burst through the locked door. Mom flew to the other side of the room and hit the wall.
My father sprinted to her, pulled her away from the wall, and punched her in the mouth. Mom cowered over in tears and screams.
Josh and I sprung from the bed, ready to use our training to protect our top agent.
Isaac heard us move. He spun around and looked directly at Josh. I had always been invisible to him. Isaac grabbed Josh’s arm. Josh cried for Mom. My father tore him away.
My father tore him away from us and ran with him out the broken door, down the apartment stairs, out the door onto Jarvis Street, into this new city called Toronto where cars flashed and buildings were made of candy and my mother was brave.
Mom did not know what to do. She knew no one in this country except her children and a monster. My sister still slept. Mom woke her up, helped us put on our coats, and grabbed our hands tight.
Mom was in agent mode again, and we, her rookies, were about to complete our last mission. We ran out the door, down the hall, down the stairs, and outside onto Jarvis Street. We saw Josh and Isaac. I screamed for my brother. He screamed for my mother. My dad slapped him and ran even faster, Josh flying in the air behind him like a stubborn kite.
We continued running. I don’t remember when we stopped. I don’t remember how we got Josh back and my dad got arrested and my parents got divorced and I never saw him again.
I remember my mother fighting. I remember us running down Jarvis Street. I remember the sun in my eyes, the flashes of orange and red, my brother screaming in orange and red, cars flashing in orange and red, determination and fear in orange and red.
I remember our family fighting for goodbyes and new beginnings, for hope in new cities, for wishes in hotel apartments, for dreams in caramel blankets. I remember fighting and hoping and wishing and dreaming in orange and red.
Acknowledgements
Wow, it happened again.
A bunch of talented, wonderful, hardworking people came together to follow me into madness, and produced what I think is a pretty nifty anthology.
I went into a kind of paralytic shock while trying to produce this volume. As a result, I did next to no work while the editorial team carried this project. Jodelle Faye DeJesus—our managing editor—sacrificed the little time she has between two jobs to recruit writers, edit pieces, and otherwise run the show when I was too busy looking at clouds. Without her help, I don’t know if we’d have released Record Two on time, if at all.
Luke Sawczak copyedited this entire thing—giving it the elegant polish you don’t notice, because no one ever notices good copyediting, which is a shame. To fill you in: Luke’s ability to clarify sentences and pluck out errant punctuation are superb. I feel like a better person after he edits a story.
Kasia Luczynski forgave me for misspelling her name half a dozen times, and also provided the high-level story and style editing that I’ve come to rely on. If the reader enjoyed my own story about Beijing, it’s because of her.
There are other people I need to thank, and other people that I’m looking forward to thanking in the future. But that’d take forever, so I’ll just thank you, dear reader. On behalf of everyone working on this project, thank you for giving these little stories from little people a chance. And hey, if you liked what you saw, stay tuned for more. We’ll be releasing a Record Three around the end of September. And with these fantastic people at the helm, I know it’ll be awesome.
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