Ma Character Analysis

I know what you’re thinking. How can a whole person, a kid, disappear and no one say a word? Like, if the sun just up and left one day, you’d think someone would sound an alarm, right? But Ma used to say, not everyone circles the same sun. I never knew what she meant by that until Monday went missing.

Monday lied with matter-of-fact precision, in a self-preservation type of way. I could never manage it, even to save my own ass.

“Dang, Ma’s gonna be so mad.” I hated the idea of disappointing her.

Monday grunted, staring off. “She never gets that mad.”

“Anyway, are you going to talk to Dedria’s mother tomorrow or what?”

I stopped, peering over the banister.

Ma shook her head. “Patti, she got to leave on her own terms. It ain’t my place!”

Mrs. Charles glared at her. “Janet, that man is going to kill her one of these days! Are you going to be able to look yourself in the mirror when he does?”

Daddy sighed. “Janet, it’s their family business. It ain’t none of ours.”

“But we—”

“Just stay out of their drama, will you?” he sighed. “I don’t wanna get mixed up in their mess.”

“I said come on!” Mrs. Charles barked. “I ain’t got all day!”

Monday flinched, her eyes closing as tears ran down her face. With slumped shoulders, she dragged her feet after her mother.

Ma and I watched them walk off in silence, my nerves prickling. The fear Monday had of her mother didn’t seem normal. The fear I had for Monday didn’t seem normal. Nothing about the moment felt normal.

“For the last time, there’s no such thing as ‘stupid kids’ class.’ The Learning Center will be good for you. You just…need a little extra help, that’s all. Ain’t no shame in that, Sweet Pea.”

The name Sweet Pea felt like a pacifier—a rattle shaking in my face. She was so busy treating me like a baby that she wouldn’t even try to understand that walking into the Learning Center was school suicide.

Ma had four babies up in heaven waiting for her. On earth, all Ma had was me, and some days I wondered if I was good enough to quench her longing. Maybe I wasn’t good enough. Maybe they wanted a better version of me—a version that could read and write with no problems. Maybe that’s why they kept trying and failing. I hated seeing Ma in pain as much as I hated not being enough for her.

“Where the hell have you been?” Ma screamed, marching out of the kitchen. “Your father’s out there looking for you now! What, you think you’re grown now, that you could go off on your own and don’t tell nobody? You got everybody calling everybody looking for your behind!”

Notice the difference: I’d been missing for two, maybe three, hours tops, and Ma had half the congregation out looking for me. Monday had been missing for months and no one even considered it strange.

I know what you’re thinking. How can a whole person, a kid, disappear and no one say a word? Like, if the sun just up and left one day, you’d think someone would sound an alarm, right? But Ma used to say, not everyone circles the same sun. I never knew what she meant by that until Monday went missing.

Monday lied with matter-of-fact precision, in a self-preservation type of way. I could never manage it, even to save my own ass.

“Dang, Ma’s gonna be so mad.” I hated the idea of disappointing her.

Monday grunted, staring off. “She never gets that mad.”

“Anyway, are you going to talk to Dedria’s mother tomorrow or what?”

I stopped, peering over the banister.

Ma shook her head. “Patti, she got to leave on her own terms. It ain’t my place!”

Mrs. Charles glared at her. “Janet, that man is going to kill her one of these days! Are you going to be able to look yourself in the mirror when he does?”

Daddy sighed. “Janet, it’s their family business. It ain’t none of ours.”

“But we—”

“Just stay out of their drama, will you?” he sighed. “I don’t wanna get mixed up in their mess.”

“I said come on!” Mrs. Charles barked. “I ain’t got all day!”

Monday flinched, her eyes closing as tears ran down her face. With slumped shoulders, she dragged her feet after her mother.

Ma and I watched them walk off in silence, my nerves prickling. The fear Monday had of her mother didn’t seem normal. The fear I had for Monday didn’t seem normal. Nothing about the moment felt normal.

“For the last time, there’s no such thing as ‘stupid kids’ class.’ The Learning Center will be good for you. You just…need a little extra help, that’s all. Ain’t no shame in that, Sweet Pea.”

The name Sweet Pea felt like a pacifier—a rattle shaking in my face. She was so busy treating me like a baby that she wouldn’t even try to understand that walking into the Learning Center was school suicide.

Ma had four babies up in heaven waiting for her. On earth, all Ma had was me, and some days I wondered if I was good enough to quench her longing. Maybe I wasn’t good enough. Maybe they wanted a better version of me—a version that could read and write with no problems. Maybe that’s why they kept trying and failing. I hated seeing Ma in pain as much as I hated not being enough for her.

“Where the hell have you been?” Ma screamed, marching out of the kitchen. “Your father’s out there looking for you now! What, you think you’re grown now, that you could go off on your own and don’t tell nobody? You got everybody calling everybody looking for your behind!”

Notice the difference: I’d been missing for two, maybe three, hours tops, and Ma had half the congregation out looking for me. Monday had been missing for months and no one even considered it strange.