HOMELESS

The stretch of road under the I-5 Freeway is where the homeless sleep. If a passerby didn’t follow the cement angles of the viaduct upward, they wouldn’t notice them. But they’re here. Every morning on my run, I see them buried beneath tethered blankets and cardboard boxes.

Their presence makes me sad. I wonder about their origin stories and how their families allow them to inhabit this space. I don’t have to stretch my mind to understand how they ended up alone; I was homeless once, too—a reality Mama always failed to acknowledge.

 As I recall Mama’s response to my asking how she didn’t know I was without stable residence, anger consumes me, intensifying my pace.

…

“I guess I didn’t know, Honey.”

You didn’t fucking know?! I scream internally. How could my mom not know that her nineteen-year-old son was sleeping in the backseat of his shitty Chrysler Le Baron and couch surfing on the sofas of empathetic friends?

“Where did you think I lived, Mama?” I inquired, holding back my rage.

“I don’t know. I just kinda assumed you was takin’ care of.” 

“By who, Mama?” A spray of saliva coats my phone’s receiver as anger begins to escape me.

Across space and time and through the awkward silence between us, I sense Mama sorting out how to evade my interrogation. When her reasoning feels logical and justified, Mama replies.

“You’re not like your brother and sister. I just thought you’d figure it out. And you did, didn’t you?” Mama’s attitude shifted from pitiful victim to wise mother, who knew her middle child better than he knew himself. “I don’t know why you can’t just let it all go. The past is the past. And, besides, you’re fine now, Son.” 

…

Mama was right; the past was the past. Those lonely days of not knowing where I would sleep or how to get food have evolved into biographical context. But the anger that hides the hurt stemming from Mama’s inability to acknowledge what was inhabits my heart. Even though Mama is gone, the anguish persists, and I am still running with and away from her reactions.Goddamn it, Mama.

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