Teddy

It’s December, 1993 in Miami. I am watching the sunset while i am sitting at the edge of the top on the roof. This is not a commercially advertised Miami building, it’s just a project in the hood, where only poor people live. But I like it here, real and natural. I watch every sunrise and sunset from here. Have you ever enjoyed watching sunrise or sunset while sitting at the edge, hanging your legs down, sipping some rum and smoking some cigar? That’s how we do it in Miami. By the way, I am Armando, at least that’s how they named me at the church. But I prefer being called “Teddy”. Teddy bear is my only belonging from my childhood. When my parents or one of them left me outside of the church, teddy bear was with me. It’s has been with me all the time. My homies, I mean friends call me that way. Perhaps it’s funny name, they love to call my nickname, then there is always laughter. I am glad my name makes them happy. My friends are all from the project families. We usually spend time together on the roof, where I live, or hanging out in the hood. My studio is small cube room, actually it’s tools room for the superintendent of the building. I haven’t seen any superintendent since I started living here. Good for me, because I don’t have to pay for rent. Some rich families’ dogs have bigger doghouses in the front yard than my studio. Lucky stupid dogs. I don’t know what my birthday is, but I know my age, 13 years old. I’m the man now, I do have walkie-talkie to communicate with my bodies. I have special flashlight to lighten my room, robbed from rich white kid. Small piece of bed, those would be my furniture in my apartment. My profit is based on stealing, pick-pocketing and carrying some drugs for dealers. But I don’t use them. Ah yeah suppose you have questions like how I ended up like this. I was raised in church and believed that I was Puerto-Rican kid. Church, not really close family, helped us to stand on our bare feet. I remember only one nun, who took care of children like us when we got sick, needed to be fed or bathed. She is only mother that I know of. When I was 5, I got adopted by foster family, white family. Then I ran away. Luckily I met my bodies and they showed me where I could live. For 8 years I’ve been living on the top of the poor world. Occasionally I get caught by the police, but foster dad and mom would pick me up from the police, at the same night I would sneak out through the window to get back to the project. I didn’t remember anything about my parents until yesterday night. I had strange, unbelievable dream last night. I saw my mom and dad, dad is, I guess, white Jamaican. Cause he had “Yaa man” accent (patois). Mom is definitely Cuban. I remember mom’s asking with tearful eyes “what do you think about our son?” and dad’s answering with teddy bear in his hand “one of many mine”. Not that much, but success is that now I know how they look like. Oh I forgot to tell you about Julia, the girl I fell in love with. My very first love is driving me crazy. She is from decent family, I’m street guy. See, we’re a good match-up like in Latin TV Series with hundreds of episodes. Her parents wouldn’t like me around her. Anyways it’s too early to argue about relationship. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me and I was turning to face who it was. Man in black threw my teddy bear to my face, so it got bounced on my head and started falling. To prevent that, I reached for it, but I lost my balance and began to fall after my teddy. My goodness … is that the end? Will it hurt?
I woke up in really white room, I hesitated to guess whether it was in hell or in a hospital. I couldn’t feel my body, good God. “It’s ok, it’s going to be fine, babe” I heard. Julia was sitting aside and still holding my left hand. I could see her eyes swolen from crying and face much older than i first met with. My daughter is smiling, poor little thing wouldn’t know what’s going on. I glanced at the calendar with difficulties, but managed to see big letters “July 2008”. I wanted to ask what happened, but my tongue wouldn’t cooperate with me. Julia knew what I wanted to ask and said “You were unconscious for a week, you are lucky to survive terrible car accident”. Now I remember the truck running into my car. And I just woke up, which means I had a long dream. So I saw my parents in double-dream. I can’t believe, how bad that I can’t share this with my lovely wife and kid right now.
Life was hard for me, not just hard, extremely hard. Then i made my way out of nothing to catch something. I grew up from politically not correct to wannabe correct, wanna-have better life. So growing up didn't stop childhood memories and nightmares. I still have to fight with my own memories.

When death comes again, i am ready to fight. I will not give up and i will survive.