Jordan's Story

The air felt heavy and thick as if the people packed into the small space were stealing his oxygen. The sun peaked into the room past the drawn curtains blinding him with its glaring brilliance. His cousin’s hands felt clammy where they gripped him to keep him still against her. He squirmed in her grasp, trying to gain access to his toys in the other room. The clothing they had forced him into had begun to itch against his overheated skin.

His father’s heavy footsteps thumped slowly behind him. Turning in his seat, Jordan saw his father’s blank expression as he squeezed past the relatives determined to pat him on the back or shoulder at every turn.

“Daddy,” Jordan cried, reaching out his arms.

His father turned at Jordan’s voice, looking down at the little boy’s chubby tear-stained face, so similar to Jordan’s mother. The blank look faded as his mouth drooped and then crumpled. Jordan’s father gripped the back of the couch, bowing his head for a brief moment. He turned and covered his mouth as his footsteps moved quickly towards the hallway and into a room. The door slammed shut, quieting the relative’s chatter.

A baby’s cry rose up from the corner, where its sleep had been interrupted by the disturbance.

“Daddy,” Jordan cried again, his sobs joining the baby’s.

Breaking from his cousin’s grasp, Jordan wriggled to the floor and marched determinedly towards the hallway.

“Jordan!” his Aunt Delia reprimanded. She caught up with him quickly, the now screaming baby perched on her hip. “Leave your father be. Come talk to your brother.”

Pulling them both to a chair in the corner, Delia sat down with the baby on her lap. Jordan looked at his little brother reluctantly

.

Samuel stopped crying and smiled through his tears at his big brother. The baby reached little hands out for Jordan.

Jordan smiled back at the baby and offered his hand for the baby to grasp.