Flagstaff, Arizona
Maggie Kalabari Wymund gazed at the stars. She almost thought she could feel their twinkles echo inside her. As of an hour ago, she was fourteen years old.
Maggie shivered in her white, button-up, cotton pajama set and tucked the deep red quilt her New Orleans grandmother had made around her cold brown toes. She felt another, smaller shiver against her legs and gently lifting the quilt, she checked on Abbey, her dog. He was curled up in a black and white ball in her lap. He hadn’t been happy about being woken up at midnight to sneak onto the cold flat roof of the apartment complex, but he couldn’t bear to be apart from Maggie either. She couldn’t have him whining and waking up her dad. Abbey had been a birthday gift from her dad eight years ago. Her first birthday without her mom. Would her mother have been proud of her? Would she have thought she deserved more freedom?
The nightmare had woken her again. The red eyes, the wooden mask, the feathered headdress, the feeling of dread and drowning. She wasn’t sure why her dad’s song hadn’t worked this time. He’d seemed distracted. Forcing herself to think happier thoughts, she dreamed of the world outside her apartment building, which she had never rarely left. This day wasn’t just her birthday. She was graduating highschool. Homeschooling had its perks. She tried to picture herself walking the halls of a university, idly chatting with all her new friends. She’d be holding books and laughing at their jokes. Or maybe that was just what the world outside her apartment was like in movies.
The wind gently blew, rattling some empty plastic bottles on the roof and bringing the fresh smell of the first of spring. Abbey nestled in closer. Then she sensed a familiar presence. She thought of hiding, but there was no point. Then light showed from the crack underneath the big metal door followed by footsteps on the stairs, then the creaking of the door, and there was her dad, Donnell.
The light framed his large silhouette, but Maggie could tell he was in his usual red, vertically striped pajamas.
“I thought I told you not to sneak out anymore,” he said in a sleepy monotone.
“Well …,” she said “now that I’m fourteen, I thought we could make a deal for me to have a little more autonomy.”
He wiped the sleep from his eyes and shook his head. “Magpie, you need sleep. I’m not making a deal with you right now.” He sighed. “More nightmares?”
Maggie nodded, but would not be distracted. “I just think I should be able to –”
“You need to stay inside where you’re safe,” Donnell said as sternly as he could half asleep. He held the door open expectantly.
Maggie rolled her eyes and muttered “Oh all this dangerous trash up here.” But she could tell he wasn’t going to allow more arguing. She got up, and Abbey yawned, shook, and followed her back down the stairs. As usual, he ignored Donnell.
Donnell followed Maggie as she sauntered down the stairs and walked to the outside landing of their floor until she stood in front of their tan apartment door marked 864. Donnell took out his key and opened it. He had the only key and always kept it locked, except of course when Maggie snuck out and left it unlocked behind her. He shut it behind them as the floor creaked under his weight as it always did by the door. Maggie noticed him once again inspecting the chalk drawing on the inside of the door. It was a geometric outline of a spider in a circle. She’d spent a lot of time staring at it over the years wondering why she was forbidden to touch it.
Maggie walked across the beige carpet to her room and got into bed, holding up her tribal print comforter for Abbey to snuggle underneath. It wasn’t a real Navajo blanket, of course. They didn’t have the money for that. But it was a pretty good imitation for a thrift shop find.
Every inch of the walls and ceiling in her room was covered in richly colored drawings and murals that Maggie had added to over the years starting with her first crayon scribbles when her mother had been alive. If this overly beige apartment had to be her whole world, she wanted her room to be as magical as possible.
Donnell knelt beside her and said “So, more nightmares … want me to sing the song again?” Maggie knew fourteen was a bit old for lullabies, but she nodded her head.
And Donnell’s soft, deep voice poured out the Creole French:
Viens belle nuit, me couvrir de ton voile,
Viens ramener le calme dans mon coeur,
Que J’aime à voir au ciel briller l’étoile
Qui me charme l’àme en rêvant le bonheur.
He never taught her to speak the language, but this one song she could murmur the translation to:
Welcome, beautiful night, enshroud me in your veil.
Come and bring calm to my heart,
How I love to see the sky shining with stars
Charming my heart and reviving my happiness.
It was such a strange thing. This one particular song could make Maggie feel relaxed and warm no matter how anxious or cold she was. But only when her dad sang it in French. She’d tried singing it herself with no effect in either language. Donnell finished the song, kissed her forehead, and got up to leave. But she remembered wondering about her mother. “Dad? Can you tell me something new about my mom?” She watched him sigh just a bit and look up, thinking. He could never stay mad at her for long.
“Asari loved your curly hair because it was just like hers instead of bald like my head.” Maggie chuckled sleepily, but shook her head and said “That doesn’t count. You already told me that.”
Donnell smiled and thought again. “Your mother had a terrible temper, that she passed on to you, and she’d have been very angry if she found out you ever snuck out at night.”
“That doesn’t count either because it’s just a warning from you. Something else.” But Donnell shook his head and yawned.
“Happy birthday, Magpie. Goodnight.”
—
The next morning, Maggie woke up to Abbey pawing at her. He usually slept in, but then she too noticed the delicious smell wafting in from the kitchen. Her stomach growled. As they made their way into the kitchen, Maggie was surprised to see her dad still in his red, striped pajamas with a white stained apron on. “Dad, why aren’t you ready for work?”
Without turning around he called out “Calas, belles, calas tout chauds! Happy birthday!”
“Dad – why are you here? Did you lose your job again?” Anxiety replaced the feeling of hunger in Maggie’s stomach.
“I’m concentrating on your calas!”
Maggie slid onto a black metal stool by the bar separating the tiny kitchen from the living room while Abbey pawed at her leg demanding calas. They didn’t have a dining table, but there wasn’t room for one anyway.
Finally, Donnell turned around with a plate of crispy hot calas dusted with powdered sugar. “Your calas, mon cheri. I took the day off work for your birthday. I have to concentrate when I’m frying or I’ll burn them.”
Maggie smiled gratefully but couldn’t quite shake her feeling of unease. Calas were Maggie’s favorite breakfast, not just because rice fritters were delicious, but also because it was a recipe from her dad’s family in New Orleans. She’d never met any of them, of course, as no one had ever visited them, but she liked the feeling of family. Maggie coughed on the powdered sugar.
“Amateur,” chuckled Donnell, mimicking her coughing as he ate.
“Maybe you should make them often enough for me to be a professional.” Her dad got up to clean up. While keeping an eye on him, Maggie broke off a little piece which Abbey delicately ate from her hand. But then he smacked his mouth and sneezed from the sugar.
“Are you feeding Abbey again?” her dad demanded without even turning around.
“I just dropped some! It was an accident!”
Donnell shook his head and muttered while he continued washing dishes and occasionally turning around to pop a cala in his mouth. When he was done, he smiled at Maggie and threw a dish towel over his shoulder.
“Alright! Now that your brain is fueled with sugar and grease, are you ready to take your …” he switched to an announcer voice “FINAL EXAM OF HIGH SCHOOOOL!”
Maggie grinned and took one last bite before running to her room to get dressed. She wanted to be wearing her lucky outfit. She found her dirty black jeans, her vintage, red, leather boots that she’d decorated with a paisley pattern in black marker, her gray silk button up shirt she’d found in a thrift shop and altered, and the finishing touch, the red beaded, wedding necklace that had been her mother’s and her grandmother’s before.
She ran out of her room and said “Wish me luck!” And Donnell replied “You don’t need it!”
Then she sat at her desk in the living room and powered up her ancient, big box, beige computer. She wasn’t usually nervous, but she really wanted to ace this Physics exam, not just pass. She’d elected it to look good on her college applications, but it had ended up being her favorite class. Something about the nature of energy drew her in. She had to be ready. This exam was her ticket to freedom, to life outside. Everything was riding on it.
“Maggie,” Donnell interrupted.
“Dad! I’m trying to concentrate!”
“Want to make a deal?”
Maggie narrowed her eyes. She always wanted to make a deal. “What kind of deal?”
“You pass, I will attempt to make your mother’s pepper soup.” Pepper soup was her favorite Nigerian food, but she’d only had on the rare occasions her dad splurged on takeout from the one West African restaurant in Flagstaff.
“You’re on.” It was a silly deal, but it helped Maggie relax. She began her exam. The first question was about the coolest main sequence star. Easy. Red dwarf. Next question, the physical phenomenon called sound was B) disturbance of matter. Then, which type of medium do Electromagnetic waves need to travel? C) None.
For the next hour, she flew through the test. When she was done, she simply smiled at her dad and stood up.
“Feeling confident, are you?” her dad said as he took her seat to score the exam.
“I know I’m brilliant.”
“Humble too, huh?” Maggie rolled her eyes and paced the kitchen, waiting. She didn’t think she was actually nervous, but she still felt uneasy. Maybe she’d had too many calas. She watched the clock. He should be done by now, but he was still slowly scrolling through her last high school test.
“Why are you taking so long?” she said. Donnell did not respond. At this point, she was almost sure he was taking an extra long time to teach her a lesson about patience or humility or whatever. She thought she better not push him anymore or he might take even longer. But he had to understand how important this was, so she decided to stare at him as pointedly as possible.
Finally, Donnell stood up. “Well???” Maggie asked. His smirking was infuriating. He slowly walked to a cabinet in the kitchen and began rummaging around. “Did I pass?” Maggied demanded.
Her dad turned around with a piece of paper in his hand. “So how about some pepper soup?” Maggie ran over to give him the biggest hug.
Donnell looked at the recipe with consternation. “We don’t have half of these ingredients. I should have looked at this sooner.” While he started on his shopping list, Maggie couldn’t contain her excitement.
“I did it! I told you I was brilliant. I wonder what the other college students will be like? They’ll be a lot older than me of course, but I’m sure I’ll still be able to make friends. I’m very mature for my age. And what classes will I take? I don’t even have my list of schools done yet! And –”
“Maggie” her dad interrupted and put down his pencil. “We talked about this. Fourteen is a little young for college. You’re going to start with some online classes in the fall.”
“I didn’t think you were serious!” Maggie was in shock. “How could you betray me like this? Why even let me graduate early then?”
“You will go … eventually. You’re just a little young for that.”
“How long are you going to keep me imprisoned? Until I’m like thirty years old and decrepit?” Maggie was struggling to keep her tears back.
“First, thirty is hardly decrepit. Second, you are a sensitive girl and just not ready for college. Third, you are not imprisoned. You are safe.” The sadness in Donnell’s voice cut through Maggie’s shock and rage for a moment. Then she thought of spending another year in this apartment, and the rage returned.
“You say sensitive but you mean helpless. I bet mom would have let me go. Abbey and I can take care of ourselves.” Her father was silent. How could he just stand there? Her loneliness swelled. She couldn’t do this anymore. She didn’t bother to wipe away her tears.
“Dad! When will you let me leave?” Donnell simply turned back to his shopping list.
“Answer me!” Maggie yelled. No sounds came from Donnell except the gentle scratching of his pencil on paper.
“Fine. Maybe this will get you to say something.” Maggie stomped to the door. Her dad had drilled into her head that she could never ever touch the chalk spider. But she was angry. She reached up with her hand. Just as she was about to touch it, her dad’s hand closed around her wrist.
“No,” he said. “Never.”
Maggie collapsed in his arms sobbing. “Why can’t I do anything or go anywhere? Why don’t you trust me?”
“I do trust you. Can you trust me? This is all for your own good.” Maggie looked up to see her dad was also crying. It was jarring. Her dad didn’t cry. “I’ve told you. The world outside is dangerous for you.”
She pressed her face into his chest. “I do trust you, but I need more answers. More freedom. I’ll die if I have to stay here for another year. How can this be for my own good if I’m going insane?”
Donnell released her and wiped his eyes. “Alright. I think it’s time for me to tell you a little more about your mother.” He walked over and picked up his shopping list. “I’ll go to the store first. I need time to think. But I promise, when I come back, I’ll have some answers for you.”
“How long will you be gone?” Maggie asked as she wiped her own face with her hands.
“Just an hour or two.” And he walked out, shut the door behind him, and locked it.