The Toy In The Attic

William Flores, LMSW    About 2,300 words

140 Darrow Place, #17E

Bronx, NY 10475

347-605-5027

wflores1952@gmail.com

  The Toy In The Attic

   By William Flores               

 As we waited for our daughter Tai to arrive with lil Johnny, our six year old grandson, my wife Nancy asked me to look around for something to keep him busy.  The house was filled with the aroma of baked turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potato pies, and other foods she cooked for our Thanksgiving feast. The year was 1987.

“Jon, see what you can find for lil Johnny to play with while he’s here. Check upstairs where I packed away some of Tai’s old things. ”

“Okay Honey, I’ll go look.”    

We were excited. We could hardly wait to see him and Tai again. It’d been awhile. I went in search for something to keep lil Jon happy. While looking around in the attic, I spotted it on a dusty shelf way in the back of the room. My old metal hook and latter fire truck, the shiny red one. It’d turned a bit rusty over the years but still had some of its color. Wow, after all these years, I couldn’t believe I still had it. As soon as I touched it, memories flashed across my mind. Vivid recollections from the past rushed in. I felt sadness and joy at the same time.

#

The earliest childhood memory I have of this toy, from almost seven decades ago, seems as if it occurred just yesterday:

“As I pulled my shinny red fire truck by its string behind me on that brisk February day over the paths in Central Park in 1955, the heads of the two firemen seated in its cab bobbed furiously up and down. I was waiting for my escort to collect me. Unbeknownst to me, the Catholic Charities Social Worker had brought me there as a transfer to a new foster home placement. After she finally called me over to where she’d been talking with some woman and man since our arrival, I slowly walked toward them. I stopped before reaching the trio. They looked at me strangely. She called out to me again:”

“Jon come over here.”

Instead of waiting for me to move, she rushed over to me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me closer to where the couple were standing and staring at me. 

“Jon, these are your new foster parents. Say hello.”

“Hello.”

“ You should go with them now.”

“She then snatched her hand from mine and left abruptly. For the next few seconds, no one said a word. Although the distance separating the couple from me was not more than a few feet, to a lost five year old, it seemed like a vast abyss.”

Suddenly, Nancy’s voice snapped me back to reality, crashing through my memories and interrupting my thoughts.

“Jon, did you find anything yet? They’ll be here soon. Hurry up Honey.”

“Yea Babe, I might’ve found something here. I’m still looking around though. I’ll be down soon.” 

Meanwhile back in the attic…

“I remember how strange it all seemed that day in the park. Little did I know, this short walk would prove to be the longest and most important journey I’d ever make. It took all the courage I could muster up to not start crying on the spot, and run away. My fear overwhelmed me, my legs wobbled, and it threw my stomach into a wrenching gut-lock. I’d told myself, I could do this and come out okay. After all, I was armed with my hook and latter fire engine, and my two friends driving it.

I braced myself for the unknown. As I inched toward them, all heads bobbing up and down now with every step along the way, I asked myself: where am I, what’s happening here, who are these people?” 

                                                #

As Afroamerican, having migrated north to escape the violent and racist treatment of so-called Negros during those times in the south, the Rolands culled out a life in a place called Harlem, NY.                                 

Middle-aged Mattie and Ernest Roland were foster parents who took in children deemed abandoned, abused or neglected by the New York City Family Court system. Though they were childless, they gave other children a home, somewhere safe and away from their natural parents who’d been found unfit to care for them. I was to discover much later, they were a loving and caring couple who’d been fostering kids for quite a few years. 

“Ernest Roland was a short, light skinned, black-haired man, always well dressed in tailored suits he made himself. He was a university graduate with letters in fine arts and business, and was employed as an administrator in Bellevue Hospital. This was an anomaly during this era. Afroamerican men rarely, if at all, held positions of this type. Mr. Roland was a disciplinarian when called for. However, he chose to talk to us kids more often than not. The other children in our home were predominately Afroamerican and Latino. They varied in age, shade, color and size. 

Mr. Roland would talk with us for hours about the importance of having good moral character, and a solid formal education. He’d assure us, if we wanted to get anywhere in life we’d need to graduate from high school and college, and if possible, get a graduate education. He explained how he made a good life for all of us, having went to the university which prepared him for the responsible job he held. I remember him as an example of how I wanted to be as a man, once I grew up.”

I remember how loving and nurturing my foster mother was. Mattie Roland was a pretty caramel complected, plump, red-haired housewife, notorious for baking desserts and cooking delicious southern dishes. She loved serving huge Sunday dinners. Although she never learned to read or write, she was able to count money. She was a wise soul, and full of love. Mattie considered all of us her own kids, and loved us as if we truly were. She readily gave us hugs and kisses, and we took them because we needed them. 

I remember the time and effort Mattie spent with me, some of the important things she taught me, and how she took good care of me when I fell sick. Whenever I came down with asthma, she’d rub me down in Vicks vapor-rub and wrap me in a blanket to fight the fever. Other times, we’d take long walks down Lenox Avenue and talk about many things in life. She taught me how to tell time by the sun, rising in the east and setting in the west, and how to use nature as a land mark in my travels. We talked about the North star, and how sailors used it to guide them in their journeys, and how the earth went around the sun once a year in an elliptical orbit. Most importantly, Mattie explained how the only two things we really controlled in life were our thoughts and actions; and how we dealt with others showed the world what we truly thought and felt about ourselves.” 

Out of no where came the sharp sound of my wife’s voice again, penetrating my memories…

“Jon, are you sleeping up there? What’s taking you so long? Its been over an hour since you went up there. Tai and lil Jon are here. Come down, now.”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming down. Hold your horses. I’m coming.”

#

“Ay dad, how are you, what’s up? What’s that in your hand?”

 “Don’t worry about what’s in my hand little girl. Just give me a kiss, and hand that little fella over to me. I want him to see what special toy I found for him to play with.”

“Wow Grandpa, where’d you get this truck? It looks real old?”

“It was mine when I was your age son. It helped get me through some rough times as a kid. Now you can have it, if you want it. Maybe, if you keep it right, you can give it to your son when you grow up.”

“That’s neat, thanks grandpa.”

“Okay, dinner is served everyone. Let’s sit down to eat. Jon, please bless the food Dear.”

The rest of the evening went well. Lil Jon played with his fire engine and wouldn’t put it down. He’d run back and forth through the house, up and down the hallways, just to see the little firemen’s heads go up and down. Before they left for home that night, he asked the strangest question.

“Grandpa, why are you giving this to me if it’s so special?”

“I want you to have something from me that’s special because you’re very special to all of us lil Jon. Do you understand?”

“Yea, I guess so. Anyway, I like it, so I’ll keep it.”

                                                           #

That night I was visited in a dream by Mattie Roland. It was a vivid dream, an emotional one. She appeared well, just as I remembered her, dressed in her usual clothes with an apron tied around her waist. Although she’d transitioned more than twenty years ago, I could feel her love and kindness so strong and enduring in my dream. Also present was my toy fire engine, sitting on an end table in the living room in our old apartment. I could see it from the corner of my eye. 

I remember speaking first to Mattie…

“I know you’re not my natural mother, and that you’ve been here for me as a mother for the most important years of my life. I love you, as my mother, and I want you to know this.”

“I love you too Jon, and thank you for loving me. You know when you first arrived, I worried about how you’d fit in, and if you’d have difficulties with us being your parents. You did just fine son. I was fortunate to be able to see you grow into a loving young man. For this I am grateful.”

  “Me too Ma.”

At this point in the dream, Mattie blinked several times. In the next moment, I could see in her eyes the times we had together. Visions appeared of us laughing and joking, eating dinner and being together as a family, sharing good times at home. What was different however, though I was seeing all of this in her eyes, it felt like I was seeing everything through her eyes; the way she saw and remembered our times together. In the end, I remember her kissing my forehead, telling me to keep the faith, and to love and cherish lil Jon as she loved and cherished me. Then she disappeared.

When I woke up, I felt tears of joy running down my face. It was the first time I dreamt about Mattie since she passed. I felt happy and sad at the same time. I was glad to have seen and talked with her, but sad she had to leave so soon. I immediately woke my wife, and told her about my dream.

#

“Honey, wake up, wake up.”

        “What happened, what’s wrong?”

       “I had a dream in which Mattie visited me. We talked about how much we loved each other while I was growing up. It was as if she was right here with me. It was such a powerful dream. I felt it deeply. I wonder what it all means?”     

I went over the entire dream in detail with Nancy, and asked her what she thought about it.

“It sounds like you’re missing her Jon, and how you'd appreciate her love and affection once again.”

“What do you mean, appreciate her love and affection once again?”

“Look Honey, sometimes when we’re visited by our loved ones in a dream who’ve passed away, this could indicate we have unresolved feelings that we need to release, or it may be that we simply love and miss them.”

”Could this mean I’m going through some type of life crisis?”

“Not at all Honey. It just shows how deep and meaningful Mattie’s love for you was, and always will be. Remember, she was there for you when no one else was. She filled your need for love during your most important developmental years. This is probably why you felt her so strongly in your dream. I think its a good sign Jon. She’s showing you, you’ll never be alone again, and reminding you how important it is for you to continue to show lil Jon all your love.” 

“I believe you're right Dear. Thanks, that makes sense. I also think finding that old toy of mine, and giving it to lil Johnny, brought up some of my feelings from childhood. It seems my subconscious memories are reminding me of what it was like when I was a child in foster care, and how much I’m loved today, especially by lil Johnny. I see the dream to mean I’m growing and evolving in my relationship with my family, and especially with my grandson.”

#

Years later, my wife and I took lil Johnny in to live with us while his mother studied medicine abroad. He was thirteen years old at the time, and stayed with us for about eight years. It was a loving experience for our family. We bonded, and got closer than ever as a family. Much to our surprise, lil Johnny ended up becoming a fireman. I don’t know why or how this happened, yet I do know one thing, it was meant to be. He says he couldn’t have done it without us. We say he couldn't have done it without Mattie, that’s for sure. Believe it or not, my grandson still has that toy fire truck to this day. 

END