Edward, my older brother, was hiding face down under the bed as father came home. Ma put me in my playpen. She spun the dial on my toy radio that played my favorite lullabies. The smell of beans, rice and meat filled my nose, a home-cooked meal for a man providing for his family. The chimes caught my eyes and began putting me to sleep, but the roar of my father's voice dusted weighted sounds.

'Did he go to school?'� Father asked my ma hiking up his black snake wrapped around his waist, a quick bite of a shine beams off the buckle as the setting sun hit it.

My ma said, 'He did not. They called me again and asked me to bring him home because he was making such a ruckus. I heard him crying in the background. I couldn't leave him there.'�

Father put his hand on the door's edge and grabs his buckle again. His face turned red as he scowled at my ma, 'Damn it, woman, how's a boy supposed to become a man! You let him hold onto your shirt as soon as he starts to cry!'� The bottom of his fist pounded against the wall. Ma hung her head low.

Normally, my father would walk into the bedroom and see my brother was hiding under the bed. He would just walk away and save himself for the day. But this day wasn't one of those days. The day's work wouldn't let him walk away.

His big, brown, mud covered boots stomped around my pin, my head turned to each stomp trying to keep up with him. I waved my arms at him hoping he'd pick me up and not chase after Edward. He ignored me and walked to our bedroom door.

'Edward,'� Father yelled, 'you come out here now or else you'll get your lesson the hard way.'� Father paid no mind to my screaming.

Ma ran and scooped me up, 'See what you've done, you've woken up the baby!'� I tried thinking of another way to get Father's attention. Then I saw him unclip his black strap from around his waist. He swung his strap against the door and made loud bangs come out from the door. Edward didn't open it. After a few moments Father decided to kick open the door. 'I don't want any locked doors in my house,'� he said to my brother's feet that stuck out from under the bed. 'Ya hear!'�

Edward's legs never moved through all of the monster sounds. Father walked to the bed and threw it into the air with one arm. It made a flat sound as it hit against the wall. Still, with the snake in one hand he grabbed my brother's leg and pulled on Edward's as hard as he could. The hard cold bars flipped over as my brother held on to them.

With his left hand grasping my brother's right leg, my father reached out his right hand, with his snake still in hand and shut the door. I started crying again, louder.

Ma paced around the room trying to calm me down. She'd bounce me up and down trying to call the sandman to put me to sleep. My screams did very little to cover the sharp claps from the bedroom. Ma had to get away from the stinging echoes into her ears.

She walked me to her room and put a bottle of milk into a calm pot of water. She bounced me and tears flew from my face. She reached down for her white flour covered apron and wiped away at my face. Once cleaned my face down she took my screams with it.

She placed me on the counter and I took a look at her. Tears rolled down her face and she turned on the hot box. She then walked away, leaving me near the hot box.

I looked around the room, begging for something to hold my attention. Each turn of my head caused my whole body to shift. The green cold box, brown boxes with food and blue and green smooth flowered floor didn't matter to me. But the ants carrying their evening meal back home held my attention. The millions of black bodies holding something over their heads, all they were showing me were their huge bottoms hurrying and rushing home to their families. The noise that came from the white box caught me for a second only. Then I would stare into the pot holding my milk.

The water was no longer calm. It was hiding bubbles inside. White smoke came from its skin. I heard Ma step around outside her room. Then water started to talk. I put my hand into the white smoke and it stung. The milk inside was bubbling, the top was popped. It looked like a balloon. Ma had always let me look at the milk and water before but this was the first time that I saw it with its top. The sun shone through the window and made its mark on the bubble. A spot of light, a perfect circle. Within the light I saw the quick bite of a shine I saw earlier. I took my hand away from the white smoke. Deeper and deeper, I stared into the light as it moved up and over the edge.

I started to reach out and the white smoke stung my hand and moved up my arm. I was looking for the shine on the bubble. I touched the rubber tip and it burned me. The bubble and I had started our fight for the light. Ma was still pacing around in the living room. She was biting her nails waiting for the bedroom door to open and for Father to step out. The screaming from my room started to get louder and louder. I could hear it from inside Ma's room. As my arm was in the white smoke my other reached in also. The bubble was not going to get the best of me. My knee touched the side of the pot as I tried to pull the bubble out of the water. More tears came out from my eyes, I screamed louder. I heard the door slam open and my father yelled, 'What's wrong, why is the baby crying?'�

She said, 'I don't know, I left him in the kitchen. Oh no, I left him near the stove.'� They both rushed through the door. They found me with the top in my hands crying. I let go of the bottle and it hit the floor, the top ripped and spilled over the floor. Ma grabbed my arms and screamed, 'We need to get him to a hospital!'�

'We will, we will,'� my father said trying to calm her down. 'He'll be fine, it's not bad, they're just a little red. There won't be any scaring, it'll just hurt him for a while.'�

I saw my brother in the doorway as my father put me over his shoulder. Ma rushed out and said just as fast, 'Move, Edward, your brother's hurt. Go get paper towels to clean up the floor of the kitchen.'�

My brother stood there looking at me, out of the corner of his eye, probably imagining I'm the devil. He sniffed and then rubbed his arm against his face to wipe away his tears.

My father walked to the table and got the paper towels, 'Get to your room, Edward,'� he said with his calm voice, 'Your brother getting hurt wasn't your fault, no matter what your mother may tell you later.'� Edward turned around and without saying a word and closed the bedroom door. My father walked over the spilt milk and cleaned up the mess. 'You little shit,'� he told me as he laughed, 'You have no idea what you've done. Now he'll never get over this because he'll think that you are your mother's favorite.'� Then he kissed me on top of my head, 'But I'm glad to see that you're willing to take care of your brother also, even if he doesn't see it. And trust me there will be a lot of times when he won't.'�

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