“Start by forgiving. Show some compassion, and feel the sense of peace that will grow in your heart…”
Julio listens to the Common Sense Podcast on his car radio. The first time he discovered Adekola’s podcast was a few months ago when out of boredom he was browsing the channels. It was a refreshing change to hear a podcaster talk for a full hour without bullshitting. It was the first time in his entire life that Julio heard a Black voice speak of the pain and social injustice that Latino people are born into. There is something appealing about a man who is not all about himself, his race, or his folks. A man devoid of self.
Julio has been tuning into Adekola’s podcast ever since. Today, however, is not like any other day. This Jesus fella that Adekola is interviewing is quite a character. He should pronounce his name hay-soos, by the way, like Latinos do to avoid confusion. But anyway, although Jesus sounds genuine, he must be just a young, happy-go-lucky fella, who does not know the first thing about real life outside Bugs Bunny’s world and yet preaches compassion and shit. He doesn’t know the more you forgive, the more assholes take advantage of you. If someone slaps your left cheek, you punch his teeth out, and then the rest of them will leave you the fuck alone. There are some lessons in life that only prison can teach you. That is how you can survive this fucking life. What does Jesus know about life and pain?
“This is a ruthless world that we are placed in,” Jesus continues the podcast. “We, humankind, are born in pain. That is the fate that is written for us from birth. There might not be any easy escape from it, but there is a painkiller to ease the pain. And that’s compassion.”
Compassion, hmm. Julio does recognize the pain that Jesus refers to; that absence of peace that makes the heart ache. Constantly. Each time he took care of an asshole, he felt more satisfied but less happy. What if this Jesus kid is right? What if forgiveness is the ultimate drug for the pain in the heart? Next time Julio finds someone worthy of forgiveness, he is going to give it a shot.
“Bing,” says the Uber app from his phone speaker. “You have arrived at your destination.”
Julio comes back to attention. Apparently, without realizing, he has taken Roma to her destination. He was so engrossed in the podcast that he forgot the plan to find a quiet corner and teach that asshole some manners. It doesn’t matter anymore. Lucky her, Julio is calm now for some reason and no longer in the mood for conducting an education. He pulls over the car by the curb.
Roma looks up from her phone and checks the neighborhood through the car windows. Her initial confusion quickly escalates to anger. She objects, “This…ain’t…my home,” expressing her agitation on each word.
All the resentment Julio has for her comes back to him at once. He would not have had to endure this disrespectful tone if he had gone through with his initial plan. Clenching his teeth together, he growls, “This is Uber Express—”
“Excuse me!” Roma shouts, her bray loud enough to break the glass on the car window.
With his already-frayed temper on the verge of erupting, Julio rubs his ears, seeking relief from the pain inflicted by Roma’s shouting. It doesn’t work. He bites his tongue, breathing heavily through his nose.
“Something gets implanted into your heart when you exercise compassion,” Jesus continues. “Something that brings more and more peace into your heart. And isn’t the peaceful heart the only real fortune in this disturbed world? Give it a shot.”
Okay, Julio thinks, One last shot. “This…is…Uber…Express,” he says through clenched teeth. “You gotta walk the rest.”
“You don’t tell me what Uber is,” Roma shouts, her voice louder than before.
Julio clutches the wheel as though he chokes a fat, ugly throat. Perhaps, it is time for Julio’s overdue class of Introduction to Manners 101 to be in session.
Roma leans forward, her snout only one hand span away from his ear. “I know what fucking Uber is. You think I’m ignorant. You’ve been on my nerves since the beginning with your stupid gay hat on the front seat.”
With his hand reaching the emergency brake, Julio checks out the neighborhood to see if there are any witnesses around. None. Perfect.
“Now you drop me off exactly at my home, or I’ll show you what a Black woman is made of,” she leans over the front seat, takes Julio’s classy cowboy hat, and throws it on the car’s floor.
“That’s it,” Julio roars, and fueled with explosive rage, pulls the emergency brake. It screeches like a choking mouse taking her last breath.
Roma leans back.
Julio rushes to get out of the car. The door is half-open when some divine force pushes him back to his seat. Do not interfere, he commands God. With his wrath still unleashed, he looks down. The divine force is nothing but the fucking seat belt. Silly him! With his rage amplified, he presses hard the red button on the buckle. Fuck! The damn thing is stuck. He is a pressure cooker on the verge of explosion. Screeching. Screaming. His groan becomes more and more thunderous. He tries again. Over. And over. The stubborn buckle does not budge. Roaring his frustration, Julio pulls on the belt with all his strength. “Fu-u-u-uck!” he shouts eventually and gives up.
Exhausted of all his strength, he leans back in his seat, panting his heart out.
“Show compassion to someone sitting right next to you,” Jesus said on the radio podcast when Julio was struggling with the seat belt, “or better, show it to someone you don’t know, or even better, someone you do know but don’t like. It is easy to forgive the forgivable. It, however, takes a big heart to forgive the unforgivable.” With his voice getting tight, he sounds like holding back a sob when saying the word ‘unforgivable’, which is followed by a long moment of silence.
As if he synchronizes with Jesus, tears clog Julio’s throat too. Having lost the battle with his seatbelt, the always-tough Julio now finds himself weak and vulnerable. Like when he was an eight-year-old child fearing the fifth-grader bullies. Like when he was still innocent. With each heavy breath, his heart becomes humbler and softer; ready to feel again. The sincere pain in Jesus’ voice reaches somewhere deep in Julio’s heart. Pondering the word ‘unforgivable’, for the first time Julio truly relates to the man behind the voice.
“Good deed,” a breeze whispers into his ears.
Having given up his in-vain struggle with forces beyond his control, Julio closes his eyes and finds himself reborn in a lightless cavity filled with nothing but void. One after another, the blinking stars appear above and below him, painting the frightening darkness with an astonishing beauty. With no fight left in him, he lets his body float in the weightlessness of the endless, star-spangled space.
“Compassion,” Julio mouths the whispered word. His body turns until it aligns with the waves of compassion coming through the radio.
Jesus is an innocent child whose biggest sin is nothing more than eating too much ice cream. He looks like the little Black girl Julio met outside the strip club last week. He—or she raises his arm, showing a planet not far away.
Following Jesus’ hand, Julio sees the earth as well as life but from a fresh perspective. “Forgiveness,” say in unison every single cell of his body.
On the podcast, Adekola asks Jesus if he needs some water.
Julio comes back to attention, realizing that he is breathing slower now. He clears his throat.
Jesus clears his throat too and continues, “I’m good. I’m good. It takes a big heart to forgive the unforgivable, but I promise you, you’ll receive the reward right away; not in the other world, but here in this damned, cruel life, you’ll receive the reward right away; the invaluable, priceless sense of peace in your heart. I promise you that. I might not be the promised one, but take this promise from the un-promised. Forgive and fly.”
“I suppose I can do that,” Julio mutters, his heart yearning to fly and float in space once more.
“What?” Roma shouts with the same fearless aggression in her tone. The fright in her eyes, however, says otherwise. She must have got a sense of what Julio is capable of.
Julio gently shuts the door and releases the emergency brake. Roma’s rudeness no longer triggers his temper. He likes that about himself. It is a superpower he did not even know he had. “Where’s your home, you said?” he says calmly, looking out the window. A red cardinal sits on the side-view mirror. Julio smiles and watches it pecking on the plastic top.
After a few moments that he gets no response, Julio glances at Roma through the rear-view mirror.
Mouth half-open, Roma sits in the back motionless, staring at him with an expression of disbelief on her face.
“Sis,” Julio calls her with the friendly title. He looks over his shoulder to make sure that she sees his smile.
“Ah… Yeah… Ah… down this alley. Right before those apartments.”
“Down the alley, it is,” Julio says and drives away.
“I hope you have enjoyed today’s episode of Common Sense Podcast,” Adekola says on the radio. “You’ve just listened to a friendly chat with Jesus, one of the many reminders. We hope to get him to join us for another interview soon, but should you have any questions in the meanwhile, I understand Jesus is available in the parking lot of Eden Adventure Park, at the very end of Mountain Road, during his lunch break at noon.”
“Not on Tuesdays,” a young, female voice adds in a hushed tone.
“Pardon me,” Adekola continues. “All the days of the week except Tuesday. Once again, Mountain Road, the parking lot before Eden Adventure Park, at noon, from Wednesday till Monday. And with that, we wrap up today’s episode of Common Sense and invite you to join us for the next episode, at the same time, tomorrow. Stay awake, Friends.”
The podcast’s outro music plays.
“Is it good over there?” Julio asks Roma.
“Yes. Thank you,” Roma says politely. Her pronunciation is a bit off as if it has been a long time since she uttered these words.
Julio gets as close as possible to the apartment entrance and stops the car. “Alright. Take it easy, Sis.”
“Thank you,” she says with a tone of embarrassment obvious in her voice and then opens the door. With one foot out of the car, she turns back to Julio again. “Sorry for the hat,” Roma says without directly looking into Julio’s eyes. “I was a bit, you know—”
“That’s alright,” he interrupts to save her from embarrassment. It feels good.
Roma smiles, takes the two grocery bags, and steps out of the car. She then leans in and picks up the awkwardly large can from the back seat. The large green font on its cover says, ‘70% OFF!’ She gently shuts the door and walks away.
Stroking his chin, Julio watches Roma walking toward the entrance of the apartment complex. Reflecting on Jesus’ words, he takes a deep breath and says, “Yep, that does feel good.”
The buckle automatically releases, and the seat belt springs back fully into the retractor slot.
Julio cracks up with laughter.
“Never fall,” Crystal sings happily and hits below the red balloon before Malcolm can reach it. It goes up and almost touches the roof. Crystal names her new game Never Fall. It’s the best ever! The game’s rule is to never let the balloon touch the floor. The players would hit below it to go back up every time it is falling again. Crystal is the only one actually playing the game because she’s taller and always gets to the balloon first. Malcolm just enjoys sharing the excitement of the game. Maybe he thinks if he keeps playing, he’ll finally get a turn. Silly Malcolm!
A scary, huge shadow covers Malcolm like a monster. With his eyes locked on the balloon, he doesn’t notice the shadow.
Feeling nervous in her tummy, Crystal holds her breath and turns back to the apartment’s front door, where the monster is blocking the sun.
Oh, it’s just Mom, back from shopping. Crystal lets out her breath. Nothing to be scared of. Almost. Crystal touches the black bruises on her forearm. She almost forgot she had them. A week ago, when she came back home after spending a night on the streets, they were hurting like crazy. But now that she has grown into a big girl, she doesn’t feel a thing.
Mom shouts, “Crystal, come and help Mommy,” putting two grocery bags on the floor.
Crystal should go help Mom. But first things first. She has to protect her best friend from the touch of that minion who always breaks her toys. Before the balloon reaches Malcolm, Crystal carefully catches it with both hands.It is so plumpy and cute that she could just hug it forever. “Do not touch my balloon,” she warns Malcolm while showing the balloon to him. The harsh warning oughta do it, but when it comes to her toys, she cannot be too careful. Crystal puts the balloon at the center of the dining table, where it will be safe from the reach of Malcolm’s short arms. “Chugga Chugga Choo Choo,” she sings and hops toward Mom at the front door.
Mom puts a big sugar can on the floor. It looks just like the one that fell over last week. Everyone blamed Crystal, like always.
Crystal grabs the can by the handle and immediately feels its heavy weight.
“Not the can, honey,” Mom says, “It’s too big for you.”
“No. I’m a big girl now.”
“Come on, honey.”
“No,” Crystal says firmly, pulling the can on the floor like a pro. It is not her first time trying to move big, heavy cans. She is impressed by how much stronger she has gotten since last week. It must be because of Kit Kats that Security George secretly gave her.
“OK, but be extra careful, honey,” Mom says and unties her shoes. Mom says ‘honey’ a lot today! That does not sound like Mom at all.
Standing on his tiptoes, Malcolm desperately tries to reach Crystal’s balloon. That naughty minion never listens to Crystal and always messes things up.
The kitchen counter is so tall! Even though Crystal is a big girl now, she wishes she could get some help from the angels. She wonders if they’re on one of their frequent bathroom breaks again. They seem to be taking too many breaks lately.
Wait a minute!
Crystal has a brilliant idea! She can place the can on the chair and then lift it onto the counter all by herself. She doesn’t need the angels’ help this time.
Putting all her muscles into it, Crystal bends back and pulls up the heavy sugar can onto her belly. With a bit of a push with her belly, she manages to put the bottom of the can on the corner of the chair. Phew. The hard part is over. Crystal takes two deep breaths. This is more difficult than she thought. Come to think of it, she should have eaten more Kit Kats. But the job is almost done anyway. Gathering all her strength, she pushes the top of the can to make it stand straight on the chair.
“Never fall. Never fall,” Malcolm sings. He sounds way too happy! Something bad is happening.
The sugar can is almost straight when Crystal looks over her shoulder to see what that minion is up to now.
Unbelievable! How did Malcolm reach the balloon?! The devils might have helped him. Disregarding Crystal’s direct order, he plays the Never Fall game by himself. How dare he?
“Don’t touch my balloon,” Crystal yells and rushes toward Malcolm to save her pretty balloon from his evil hands.
“Crystal, no,” Mom shouts.
Crystal stops and sees Mom holding her shoe.
BANG.
Combined with the Mom’s angry face, the bang sound cannot be good news! Crystal looks down at the floor next to her feet. It is covered with sugar! Her heart beats faster. Feeling really scared, Crystal swallows a big gulp of spit as she turns back to the kitchen. Oh, my God! The worst has happened. The can fell down, and sugar is spilling everywhere on the yucky floor. Again. The devils must have pushed the can off the chair to make Crystal look bad.
So scared, Crystal feels her heart thumping really fast, like a drum beating in her chest. Mom has already warned Crystal to be careful, and the rule in this house is that if you are warned, there will be no mercy. Run, Crystal, Run, is the first thing she thinks.
She turns back to the front door. Darn it! It is blocked by Mom’s giant body.
Mom slowly shuts the door behind her and turns the lock.
The way out is blocked now. She thinks of a few solutions, but all involve running away from the home as the first step. This is the end, the seven-year-old girl thinks.
With no more ideas left, she just stands there and watches Mom stomping toward her. She should at least run to the other side of the apartment, but her feet are not moving as if they are nailed to the floor. Her heart beats fast; her body is about to get some beatings too. Poor Crystal! Why does the worst always happen to her? It was all Malcolm’s fault and now she has to pay for it. Again. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.
Mom stands above Crystal like the giant who caught Jack stealing the enchanted goose.
Crystal cries, knowing how much it’s gonna hurt. Mom will start hitting her with some routine slaps on the face. Eyes shut tight, Crystal covers her wet face with her hands—like it’s ever gonna help.
Crystal gets ready for the really painful part and counts, One…two…and…three.
Nothing happens.
She gathers up all her courage and looks with one watery eye. To her surprise, Mom is kneeling on the floor. Now that Mom is almost the same height as Crystal, she seems less scary.
“It’s OK, honey,” Mom says with a kind tone that feels strange. Not only the word ‘honey,’ but the way she says it is different. Mom looks upset, but not mad, which is so weird because Mom is usually both at the same time. Is that really Mom?
Although confused, Crystal feels safer opening her eyes, peering at Mom to make sure she is really her. The kneeling woman looks exactly like Mom. Something doesn’t add up, though. Crystal still keeps her hands up, just in case.
“Are you hurt?” the woman asks. “Let me see your hands.”
Crystal realizes that she is not sobbing anymore. Who is this alien in Mom’s body, she wonders. I like her. She lowers her hands, showing them to the alien.
The alien holds Crystal’s hands in her big palms. “They look OK,” the alien says while caressing little hands with her thumbs. “Why are you crying then?”
Pointing to the sugar spread on the dirty floor, Crystal says to the alien, “The sugar,” and cries just in case Mom is still there.
“I guess now we’ll have our coffee with milk,” the alien says and shrugs. She touches Crystal on the nose. “Or…with salt,” she says and makes a funny face.
Crystal giggles.
The alien smiles.
Crystal laughs.
The alien kisses her on the forehead.
Crystal wishes the alien would never leave Mom’s body.
“Will you help Mommy clean this up?” the alien asks.
Crystal nods while smiling. While the alien tries to recover the rest of the sugar that is still in the sugar can, Crystal gingerly tiptoes around the sugar and then runs toward the closet to bring the vacuum.
“Never fall. Never fall,” Malcolm sings, playing with Crystal’s balloon.
Crystal is going to grab the balloon when she notices Malcolm’s big grin. She pauses when realizing she does not want to take away the joyful moments from the little minion. She is happy that he is happy.
Leaving Malcolm to win his one-person game, Crystal heads to the closet by the bathroom and brings out the big, brown garbage eater. That’s what she calls the vacuum cleaner. Holding it by its trunk, she pulls the garbage eater towards the kitchen.
BANG.
Crystal hears that after passing by Malcolm. Please don’t be my balloon. Please, please, please, she prays to the angels and turns back, only to find her favorite toy, the very essence of the Never-Fall game, the balloon, has burst.
Malcolm, the balloon murderer, stands there next to the crime scene. Fear pouring from his big eyes, his gaze turns from the balloon’s corpse on the floor and meets Crystal’s. He is frightened as he should be. After all, he was already warned not to play with her balloon. And the rule in this house is that if you are warned before, there will be no mercy. Malcolm knows what is coming now, and he fully deserves it.
While biting her tongue, Crystal puts the vacuum down and walks over to her little brother.
Malcolm raises his little hands to cover his face. That is what Crystal would do when Mom is about to slap her. And today, Mom didn’t. Thanks to the nice alien possessing her body.
Crystal notices that her teeth are not biting her tongue anymore. Before reaching Malcolm, she bends and picks up the corpse of the burst balloon’s remains. Tear prickles in the corner of her eyes when she holds it up. The poor balloon died too young. She kisses the balloon goodbye.
Her younger brother is still trying to protect his frightened face with his little, feeble hands.
Crystal doesn’t know why, but she wants Malcolm to smile again. Perhaps the nice alien that today has possessed her mom’s body has now moved to hers. She likes the feeling.
An idea!
Crystal stretches the rubber and puts it in her mouth. She sucks it in and closes her lips. Then she twists the rest of the rubber to trap the air inside, just like making a tiny balloon. She brings the small balloon out of her mouth and shows it to Malcolm. She names it ‘Balloonette’. “Look. Can you do that?”
“Me. Me. Me.” Malcolm jumps up and down, excited to participate in the new game.
“Here, you play until I finish vacuuming.” Crystal offers her newest and greatest invention to Malcolm. He is happy, and Crystal is happy that he is happy. Now, time to make Mom happy, she thinks and goes back to pick up the garbage eater.
As Crystal pulls the garbage eater onto the floor, she passes by Malcolm and watches him sticking his tongue into the rubber. He’ll never get the new game, but at least he has fun. She smiles and wishes the alien to stay in their home forever and ever.