Queen Of Ashes

Getting By

The lights went off halfway through dishes.

The whole apartment clicked into dark. Somebody in the building yelled, “Aw, come on, man,” like God had done it personally. Her father opened the junk drawer by feel, found the candle ends, and lit one in a chipped mug and another in an ashtray.

Their shadows jumped on the walls. The kitchen looked worse that way. Peeling paint. The stain spreading over the ceiling. The crack by the window frame with old caulk mashed into it.

Ariana climbed onto the chair by the window and rubbed a circle clear in the fogged glass with the heel of her hand.

The block was still awake. Men stood under the bodega awning smoking and knocking rain off their sleeves. A woman in house shoes dragged a crying little boy along by one wrist while balancing a bag of laundry on her hip. Two teenagers in puffy coats stood on the corner passing something back and forth. The liquor store glowed. So did the Chinese takeout place.

Across the street, a girl about Ariana’s age got out of a car in a bright red coat. Her mother opened an umbrella over both of them, laughing at something Ariana couldn’t hear. The girl hugged a shiny shopping bag to her chest before they hurried inside.

Ariana wiped the window harder until the glass squeaked.

Behind her, coins clicked on the table.

Her father was sorting change into stacks, stopping every so often to squint and start over. Quarters in one pile, dimes in another, pennies off to the side.

“Are we poor?” Ariana asked.

He didn’t answer.

She turned around. “Are we?”

“Who you been talking to?”

“Nobody.”

He leaned back in the chair and looked at her for a long second. Candlelight made the lines around his eyes look deeper.

“We’re getting by,” he said.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Something tightened in his face then, not exactly at her. At the room maybe. At the rain. At the coins laid out under candlelight like they were enough to argue with the electric company.

“We ain’t starving.”

“That means yes?”

He looked away first. “Means we don’t have room to be stupid with money.”

Ariana pressed her thumb to the cold glass.

“Keisha said poor people smell funny.”

“Keisha oughta worry more about Keisha.”

“Do we smell funny?”

He looked at her so fast it almost felt like a slap. Then his face changed. He scrubbed a hand over his chin.

“No,” he said. “No. We don’t.”

He reached for the candle, tried to straighten the wick with his fingernail, and burned himself a little. He hissed and shook out his hand.

After a while Ariana said, “Do you miss Mama?”

He went quiet. The rain filled up the room.

Then he said, “Sometimes I miss who I thought I married.”

Ariana waited.

“That ain’t the same thing.”

She didn’t really understand it, but it sounded like one of those grown-up answers that meant the talking part was over.

He started stacking the coins again.

She looked back out the window, but the girl in the red coat was gone.

Her father counted under his breath. “Nine twenty-five. Nine thirty-five. Nine forty.” Then he stopped and started over.

Ariana turned on the chair so she could watch him.

“What’s it for?”

“What’s what for.”

“The money.”

“Bills.”

“Which bill?”

He stacked three quarters and a dime, knocked them over, stacked them again.

“Light bill first.”

“So the lights come back?”

She looked up at the dead bulb overhead. “What if they don’t?”

He made a face that almost turned into a smile. “Then we light more candles.”

“You only got two.”

“There’s one in the bathroom.”

“I thought that one was for emergencies.”

He snorted. “This is an emergency.”

Ariana smiled before she could stop herself.

He saw it and shook his head like he regretted giving her even that much. Then his face closed again.

“Go put your socks on,” he said. “Floor’s cold.”

“I’m not cold.”

“You will be.”

“Daddy.”

“Mhm.”

“Would we be rich if Mama stayed?”

His fingers stopped on the coins.

“No.”

“Would we have more?”

He rubbed his thumb over one quarter until it squeaked. “Maybe.”

Ariana waited.

“Maybe money,” he said. “Not peace.”

She thought about that, then gave up on it almost right away.

He pushed the coins into a loose pile and covered them with his hand. “Enough questions.”

Ariana turned back to the window.

The rain had washed the street darker. Every light looked blurred at the edges. From downstairs came music again, low this time. Someone in the building started singing with it, bad and loud, and somebody else yelled at them to shut up.

Her father pinched the bridge of his nose and sat very still while the candle burned lower.