Can I Get A Refill

All was calm during the still night. Light snow gently pitter-pattered against the windows. A slight breeze softly drifted through the sycamore trees. The light of the full moon kissed the cheek of little Brooklyn as she slept peacefully in her princess bed. Sleep was not easy to come by these days, so with all of the peace and quiet, she drifted into a deep slumber in no time. Sleep did not last long as Brooklyn was suddenly awakened by a loud CRASH! She jerks upright in her bed, shook by the jarringness of the sound, but already aware of what is happening. Her parents are having yet another fight.

Brooklyn grabs her blanket and pillow, and crawls into the closet. Although the rough carpet on the floor was itchy and uncomfortable, it was much quieter. She shuts the heavy door, muffling the sound of her parents throwing dishes and words of hatred at each other. They fell out of love many months ago, and spend just about every day and night blaming each other for it. Brooklyn had gotten used to the daily chaos, but that doesn’t stop her heart from yearning for a family not yet fractured by time. She lies there reminiscing about the good ol’ days— a time when life was vibrant. Her parents would slow dance in the kitchen while preparing dinner, and she would try to mimic their moves with the giant teddy bear they gifted her for her fifth birthday. They would look at each other so deeply, past the eyes and into the soul. Dinner was eaten together as a family. They’d talk, laugh, vent. Vacations were the best, feeling the heat of the sun on their backs while playing in the ocean during the summers, or the chill of the frigid wind on their necks while riding the ski lifts during the winters. There was a time when the household was full of warmth and color. Now, it’s just cold and gray.

The screaming and crashing fades out as Brooklyn slowly drifts off to sleep. She hopes to dream happier times, but dreams of nothing instead. That’s how most nights work out. All too soon, she is again awakened, but this time by her alarm. 7:00 am. Brooklyn drags herself to her feet and out of the closet, still exhausted from the night before. She looks forward to school in spite of her lack of energy. It’s the only time she can smile and laugh. It’s the only time she feels seen. Her teachers praise her for being well behaved and her advanced performance in the classroom. Her friends love her kindness and bubbly spirit. School is where Brooklyn can see the vibrant colors that once made up her world, again.

After her usual morning routine, Brooklyn goes to the kitchen to see if there is a chance of something being available for breakfast. As expected, the only thing available was disappointment. Her mother sat in a chair, sipping coffee, staring into space. She looked horrible, with her in a frizzy bun and her eyes puffy from countless tears. She jumped when she noticed Brooklyn standing in the doorway, all ready for school.

“Oh, hey baby. Is it time for school, already? I was going to get you up, but I… lost track of time…”

“I’m hungry, mom,” Brooklyn says softly.

“Right, breakfast.” Mom frantically scavenges the kitchen. “I don’t… We… I haven’t bought groceries yet. Try to grab something at school. For now, have some orange juice. I’ll go put on some clothes and take you to school.” She grabs a glass from the cupboard and pours a small amount of orange juice, sighing as she throws the empty carton away. 

Brooklyn picks up the glass and finishes the juice in almost one gulp. Her stomach makes a low growling sound. She clenches her eyes shut, holding back tears of frustration. All I want is one more sip. Her hands feel hot as the grip around the glass tightens as she wishes long and hard for one more sip. For a homemade meal. For a bear hug from her father. For a bedtime story from her mother. For her old family back. But even at eight years old, she already knew the dangers of wishful thinking. The moment passes. With a deep breath, her eyes open. When she looks down, the glass is nearly full.

What… Brooklyn looks around, but no one is there. How… Did I do this? There is no way she did this, right? Is it magic? No way. That’s something that only exists in comic books. If magic was real, the world would be a much more enjoyable place. But, how else could this have happened? Brooklyn stares at the juice in disbelief, not sure whether it’s okay to drink it or not. When she hears her mother returning to the kitchen, though, she chugs the juice as fast as she can. This matter, she decides, is a private one for now.

“Alright, hon, you ready to go?” her mother asks.

“Yes,” Brooklyn responds quickly. She puts the glass in the sink, and heads to the car.

Skipping down the sidewalk under the rare early-winter sun, Brooklyn makes her way home from her friend’s house. For the past week, she has been testing her newfound skill, and has come to the conclusion that she has the power to refill things. Learning about it is a matter of trial and error, and she is wholeheartedly enjoying the process. For the first time in months, she is going to bed with a full stomach. Her favorite bubble bath that she has been asking her parents to replace for the longest time, can finally be used again. Life has been okay since she discovered this new power, but she is determined to figure out how to make it better. There must be a way to utilize her abilities for good and not at the expense of others.

About halfway through the journey home, Brooklyn spots an older homeless man sitting on the sidewalk next to a store, eating a bowl of soup. He looks rough, with layers of oversized clothes that are covered in dirt and stains, graying, overgrown facial hair, and a large backpack that looks about one drop from completely falling apart. What sticks out the most, though, are the marks and scars covering his face and hands. Some had come from age, such as the wrinkles, and age spots. Others, like the scabs, welts, or bruises, had clearly come from something less natural, and varied in age. Some were hardly noticeable. Some looked fresh, barely beginning to heal. She had seen this man a couple of times around town, but only now is she really looking at him. So thin. So tired. This made her realize how easy it is to forget that so many people have nothing.

Brooklyn watches as the man finishes his soup, bringing the styrofoam container to his face, slurping the last drops. I can help him. She thinks long and hard about stranger danger before taking the risk of approaching the man. They’re in public, all the shops are open, and there’s still plenty of daylight. It’s safe enough to commit a small act of kindness.

“Hello, sir,” Brooklyn says with a smile.

The man looks up with surprise, then grins and says, “Hello.”

“I’m Brooklyn.”

“Nice to meet you, Brooklyn. I’m Walter.” He nods.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Brooklyn responds, still smiling.

“I like your hair,” the man says, referencing her braided pigtails. “I used to do my daughter’s hair like that. I would even accessorize them with sparkly barrettes.” He grins to himself.

Brooklyn lets out a little giggle. “Thank you! Where is your daughter?”

His smile slowly fades. “She lives with her mother, upstate. Almost grown, now.”

“Oh,” she says, not really knowing how to respond. “I’m sorry… but I think I can help cheer you up. I saw that you aren’t wearing anything to protect your ears from the cold. When my ears get cold, they ache really bad. I have an extra pair of earmuffs. They were my dad’s. I was supposed to throw them away, but never did. I guess that’s a good thing, now.” She kneels next to the man, grabbing the empty container from the ground, and scooching it aside. She keeps it in her hand long enough for it to refill, just a few seconds. Her hand warms up, and sure enough, it fills up. She then proceeds to rummage through her drawstring backpack for the earmuffs. After moving a few items around, she pulls out the blue fuzzy earmuffs. “Here you go!”

“I appreciate the kind gesture, miss, but I can’t accept these,” the man shakes his head.

“Please? No one uses them at home. If my mom finds them, she’s just going to throw them away. It’s so cold at night, they are more useful with you than in the trash.” She gives him her puppy-dog eyes. Adults can usually never resist that.

“Okay,” the man chuckles. “Thank you so, so much! This is really nice of you, miss.”

“You’re welcome! I have to go, now, but I hope you like them. Hopefully, they keep your ears warm.”

“You have a river of kindness flowing through you. Don’t ever let this world poison your waters,” the man says, holding the earmuffs to his chest.

Brooklyn smiles and nods. “Have a nice rest of your day, mister.”

“You, too.”

Brooklyn turns to walk away. She peeks back over her shoulder. The man looks down, discovering the now full soup container. He frantically looks around him in shock. It takes a moment before he gives up the search for the generous culprit. With the biggest look of gratitude on his face, and a warm pair of earmuffs on his head, he snuggles back into his spot on the sidewalk and blissfully eats the soup. Brooklyn turns around, absolutely ecstatic at the fact that she just passed her gift forward. A simple act managed to influence someone’s day for the better. It makes her wonder, how else can I affect someone in a good way? And just like that, the thought hits her!

Another sleepless night. Silence is drowned out by the clashing of household items and derogatory yelling. Now is as good of a time to execute her plan as any. Brooklyn waits for the ruckus to end. If this works, it changes everything. She will have the ability to control fate, itself. Child’s play will be over. Once silence filled the air, she decided it was time. Before leaving her room, Brooklyn says a prayer to herself. Her plan must go right because she doesn’t yet know how to reverse her power, or if reversing the power is possible. Continuing to live life like this was not an option, though.

In the kitchen, her mother leans over the counter with her head in her hands, sobbing hysterically. She looks so small in her housecoat— so defeated. Her weight has noticeably decreased. Her hair was thinning. Whatever Brooklyn planned on saying completely vanished from her thoughts when she looked into her mother’s dark, sunken eyes. She looked at least ten years older. Aghast by the almost-stranger standing before her, all Brooklyn could find in herself to do was hug her fragile mother. She held her tight. Her mother’s crying grew louder at the touch of her beloved daughter. The love this little girl still managed to show, even after enduring the hellishness brought on by two parents so consumed with hate for each other that they forgot to love the sweet human they created, was magical. Powerful. So much so that her mother’s tears gradually came to a stop. She got on her knees and hugged Brooklyn back with enough pressure to form a diamond. After being deprived of a loving touch for so long, Brooklyn couldn’t help but cry in her mother’s arms as the warmth of the hug made its way to her core. A couple of minutes of this, then her mother gently pulls away. She looks in Brooklyn’s eyes with a light that hasn’t shown for months. They smile at each other and let out a little giggle. Already, her mother’s skin is starting to brighten.

“I love you, Brooklyn,” her mother says, never breaking eye-contact, “more than you’ll ever know.”

“I love you, too, mom.”

Her mother gets up, wiping tears from her eyes as she leaves the room. Brooklyn lets out a sigh of relief. She did it. She refilled her mother’s heart with love. Or so she hoped. A little bit of time will tell. For now, one parent is down, one more to go.

Brooklyn finds her father in the backyard, drinking a beer. His wrinkles have gotten deeper. His beer belly, bigger. Never has she seen her father with so much facial hair. Never has she seen him so gray. He was always her superhero, so big and strong. He was indestructible, to her. It broke her heart to see him as less than perfect. I can help you, daddy.

“Daddy…”

Her father looks up. “Hey, baby. What are you doing up at this time?” As if he didn’t already know.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m fine, baby. Don’t worry about me,” he says, unconvincingly.

“Would a hug help?”

He chuckles, choking back tears at the same time. “A hug from you never hurts.”

Brooklyn wraps her arms around her father’s neck, and he embraces her with his whole being. This is the bear hug she’s been missing for far too long. As time passes, his hug grows tighter, and she is blanketed in the warmth of love, once again. It takes every ounce of strength within her to conceal her joy. Even if the effects didn’t last, Brooklyn was happy she could give her parents even a moment of bliss.

“I love you so much, babygirl,” her father says as she enters the house.

Brooklyn turns around with a smile. “I love you too, daddy.”

She enters her room and collapses onto her bed. Mission accomplished? By morning, she should have a better sense of how this situation is going to play out. She spends the rest of the night hoping and praying for the best, until she eventually drifts off into a well deserved slumber.

A mouthwatering aroma awakens Brooklyn from a deep sleep. Mmmm… what is that smell? Scents like this one have not filled the house in forever. This is too good to be true. She gets out of bed and wobbles into the kitchen where she is met with a sight that is also too good to be true— breakfast! Bacon, eggs, and… waffles! Her stomach makes an audible growl that alerts her mother of her presence.

“Hey, sweetheart! Have a seat. It’s almost ready,” her mother chirps.

Brooklyn sits at the table on the far wall of the kitchen-dining room area. She notices how clean the house is. Dishes are washed. The table is cleared of clutter. The floor is mopped. Her mother hums to herself as she cooks. Her hair is in a neat ponytail. The clothes she is wearing are clean and ironed, but still a little baggy from the weight loss. She hasn’t looked so alive in a long time, though. The same goes for her dad, now joining them in the kitchen, who has trimmed his face and combed his hair. He smiles at Brooklyn, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

Just as she thought things couldn’t get any more bizarre, her father walks over to her mother, hugs, and kisses her! Brooklyn’s jaw hit the floor. This is what she has wished for every night since the fighting started, but now that she has it, she doesn’t know how to feel. Happy? Suspicious? Weirded out? It’s safe to say she was feeling all of the above. 

“It smells delicious, honey,” her father says to her mother.

“Thanks!” her mom replies. “You mind setting the table for us?”

“Yeah, I got it,” her dad says, grabbing the plates and napkins.

They’re eating breakfast together? As a family? Brooklyn could faint, but fumes of fresh bacon keeps her upright in her chair. Her mother gives each of them a little bit of everything. Before they begin eating, she speaks.

“Brooklyn, I know you know what’s been going on between your father and I. I also know that our relationship has had a negative effect on you. I wanted to apologize for all the harm we brought to you.” Her mother’s voice breaks.

“She’s right,” her dad chimes in. “Our behavior was childish and irresponsible. We didn’t think about you, enough. But last night, I don’t know… it’s like a bulb went off or something. We realized just how much we had drifted apart. We thought about the old times and tried to figure out where we went wrong. Do you remember the fun vacations, and the family movie nights?”

Brooklyn nods.

“We want those days back,” he dad continues. “We’re sure you do, too. Your mother and I were able to reconcile. We sorted through some of our differences. Of course, we aren’t 100% perfect. There’s still lots we have to work out. But… we love each other.”

Her parents grab each other's hands, then her’s. 

“And, we love you,” her mother finishes. “We are 100% committed to putting our family back together again.”

All three of them exchange looks. Brooklyn is overwhelmed with happiness. I did it. I saved my family. She thinks of all the other people she could help by refilling their hearts with love. She’d be purifying their waters, rather than poisoning them. I’m going to change the world. This is a promise to herself. A vow. She wants to cry tears of joy, but instead, she eats. Nothing has ever tasted so good.