Reclaiming Angelica

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A sound woke him. The door? Did someone leave?

Raul listened harder. A sob. Someone was crying.

He wasn’t supposed to get out of bed once Momma tucked him in, but who was crying? It didn’t sound like Momma.

Poppa?

He raised his hands and knuckled his eyes clear of the sleepiness. Grabbing his stuffed puppy—Momma said they couldn’t have a real dog, not in the apartment, and bought him Ruffy instead—he climbed out of bed and stepped lightly to the door. Maybe if he was really quiet, Momma wouldn’t catch him, and he could find out who was crying and hop back into bed before she noticed he’d gotten up.

Poppa told Momma to leave his door cracked so the light from the hall could shine inside because Raul didn’t like the dark. He was too old to be scared of the dark. Only babies were afraid of the dark, and he was a big boy. Momma said so because he was starting school next year.

Raul peeped through the door, but couldn’t see anything. It sounded like the noise was coming from the living room.

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