A/N: Really short and I think it is kind of sweet. You be the judge of that; a drabble of something that randomly popped into my head. The idea popped, but the thought has been inside my brain for a long time. XD
I was going to go about this a different way.
Good for us I had some inspiration: "Please Baby Please" by Spike Lee and Tonya Lewis Lee. Yep, I work at a library and the title caught me. It's a children's book, but I highly recommend it for any author/writer who has young children in their way: nieces, nephews, sons, daughters, and cousins. I do not own anything by the Lee family: Nothing.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Boondocks. Anything related to The Boondocks belongs to Aaron McGruder; what a lucky guy.
Please, Daddy, Please.
It is morning and breakfast. He watches her on the other side of the table in her high chair; she bangs her spoon on the tray. Today is Cheerios, but she can't get her ch out correctly so it comes out as sheerios.
"Please, Daddy, please? More Sheerios."
He smiles at her nearly toothless grin.
He grabs the box and pours another small bowl.
"Tank you, Daddy."
Childish delight glows on her face when she flips the bowl and starts to count.
"One. Two. Twee. Four. Five."
He reads the morning paper with a satisfied look on his face. She won't stop counting until she reaches two hundred and thirty.
No, Daddy, No!
She is fussy today. She hates getting her hair trimmed. She kicks but does not scream as he carries her into the salon filled with hair spray and shampoo. Middle age and elderly African-American women crowd the shop, but his spot is not taken.
"No, Daddy, no!"
He waits beside her in the room. Elderly women come near her with "What fine hair" and "Look at the hair" and "Apple doesn't fall from the tree". She doesn't reply; like he, she is frowning and scowling. When it is her turn she begins to wiggle and fidget; she even tries to run off but he retrieves her with ease.
"No Daddy, no!"
In the brightly lit room he places her into the chair where a booster seat is waiting for her. The lady with the lengthy nails and braided hair laughs at their struggling. She scowls and frowns at him, but she is patient and still while the middle age lady combs, trims, and tames her outrageous afro.
The lady is paid in full, and once again he carries her to the car where she is silent and sullen. He takes note of her attitude; someone is going to bed early.
Higher, Daddy, higher!
He doesn't go the park often, but for her he does. He pushes her higher into the sky; the wind pushing both of their afros from side to side. He does not smile while he does this, but she does and that is all that matters.
"Higher, Daddy, higher!"
A littler higher she goes with each push. Along with the other children at the park, she squeals with filling happiness, and he can see the stars in her deep chocolate eyes when she looks down at him.
"Higher!"
What she doesn't know is that he makes sure she doesn't go too far out of the fear that once she does she will be out of his reach forever.
Why, Daddy, why?
Lesson time is his favorite day. He enjoys teaching her new things, but she does not understand the reasons for the fall of the Russian monarchy. She looks into the history book, taking in the complex words with ease, but she still cannot understand.
"Why, Daddy, why?"
"Because Mahalia, the people were not satisfied with the monarchy."
Her eyes and ears are open for knowledge, and he is grateful for it. She sits quietly while he explains the reasons for the fall of the Czar and his family. He tells himself that she will be informed of their murders at a later date; he wants to keep her as innocent as he possibly can.
More, Daddy, more!
He should not have left her with her uncle. He leaves for 45 minutes and she is jumping off the walls-literally. The two brothers race around the house chasing after her naked, tiny body as she runs down the hall with a bag of peanut M & M's in her dirty hands.
"More, Daddy, more!"
He swears at his brother for being foolish. His brother only laughs as he passes him up in their chase.
"Pray she doesn't find the bag of Hershey kisses and Pop Rocks I have in my suitcase."
"Riley!"
She crashes into the door and laughs hysterically. Her small body is covered in chocolate and gummi bears. This is the reason why he does not allow her to eat sweets.
"She has chocolate in her hair."
"Shut up Riley."
It takes them two hours to wash out the chocolate, peanuts, and gummi bears out of her hair.
See, Daddy, see?
He takes her to a Black Panther Museum, and she is amazed at what she sees. A portrait of the founder, Huey P. Newton, is encased in glass box. She reaches out to touch it but pulls back at the last minute.
"See, Daddy, see?"
"Yes, I do."
She looks at him with an attentive look; too attentive for a four year old. Then she looks back at the picture, and her mind wanders off at the possibilities. He too wanders off as well; he imagines a brighter future for the young girl standing beside, her tiny hand clasped on his pants legs.
He knows she will be a great woman someday.
Please, Daddy, please.
It is night time and past her bed time. She refuses to sleep. He has read to her already, but she wants another. He stands in the doorway with an expectant look on his face, and his finger is at the light switch, ready to flick it off.
"One more story. One more story."
"It's bed time."
"Wanna read about Malcolm X Daddy."
"Mahalia, it is bed time."
She regards his stern look with interest. She returns the look easily; she has mastered his look at such a young age. When she opens her mouth, the look is taken away, and she reforms back to her child self.
"Please, Daddy, please."
She sounds miserable and her bottom lip trembles.
He sighs. He steps back into her bedroom, and brings his reading chair closer to her bed. Like before she gets out of bed and goes into his lap, taking the book with her, and she snuggles against his warm chest. He reads the words carefully and slowly; he waits as he rocks back and forth until the soothing tone of his reading voice puts her to sleep.
Finally, when he can hear her soft snores, he carries her into bed, tucking her in and giving her a kiss on the forehead.
He steps out of the bedroom again and flicks the light off. On the side of the room, a night light is shining, and he never shuts the door completely.
It is the end of the week.
He hates this day.
She hates it more.
He has to go back to work. Today he is flying off to Brooklyn for another lecture, and she is to be left in the care of her Uncles. They stand on the sidewalk waiting for the taxi to arrive. She is silent and unmoving; he cannot tell what she is thinking behind her crafted mask. Her uncle, the one with the dreads, holds her hand.
The taxi is coming down the road.
He shakes his friend's hand, and he gives his brother a warning glare. The glare is full with affection between the two. He kneels down to her level, and he looks her straight in the eye.
"Be a good girl."
"Yes sir."
"No eating candy."
"Yes sir."
"Listen to your Uncle Caesar and to a degree Uncle Riley."
"Yes sir."
His forehead meets with hers, and he gives her nose a brief kiss-so no one can see. The taxi pulls up to the sidewalk and his friend and brother wave goodbye as he goes into the taxi. He takes a final look at her; he knows when he returns she will look much different and older than she does now. Time will only tell until he sees her again. She looks back at him; she successfully fights off tears, no one can tell that she wants to cry.
He can. Only because he knows her so well.
The taxi drives off to the airport, and he doesn't look back.
Besides from "yes sir" she does not say anything else to him.
He already knows her tiny, unspoken plea. It is only the thing she has asked of him that he just cannot give, not yet.
"Stay, Daddy, stay."
She says it silently with her eyes and lips. She speaks it to him through her actions. She learns a little more, she fights a little more, and she tries a little more. He knows she tries to hold it back, but he never tells her it is okay for her to cry and want.
Stay, Daddy, stay.
He never shows how much he wants to give in to those words. He never shows how much his heart aches when he can't do so.
A/N: The idea is random, but the plot device is not. I don't know if this has been attempted before; hope you had fun.
…What else do I have to say?
Oh yeah, please review! All reviews, critiques, and anything else of the sort shall be greatly appreciated and loved!
Introducing Mahalia.