Monday’s Not Coming Quotes

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.

Mondays were Monday’s favorite day of the week, and not just ‘cause she was named after it. She loved the day itself. She’d be at school, early as ever, brighter than sunshine, even in the dead of winter with wind that could freeze our eyelids shut. She’d stand outside the gate, bundled in her thin coat and mismatched scarf, waiting for the doors to open.

“Why you so happy to go to school?” I would grumble, missing the warmth of my bed. “No one is happy to go to school. Especially on Mondays.”

She would shrug. “I love school.”

I’d roll my eyes. “School don’t love us.”

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.”

The Capitol Housing Authority built the Ed Borough housing projects during World War II on land originally given to freed slaves during the 1800s. It was meant to be a place of community, a place to start again, a place for the American dream.

Later on, developers realized how valuable the land was, sitting right on the river, with easy access to the city. Too valuable for black folks to have.

How convenient that crack would ravish the area developers wanted most.

Red flags.

Not blush red, orange red, wine, or ruby red. No, bloody red flags. Did you see them, Claudia? Did you?

Did you see any red flags?

That’s the question they asked me over and over again, hoping to find answers. Hoping to understand what no one could. Signs. Were there any signs Monday was in trouble? Did you see anything out of the ordinary, anything unusual?

No. Nothing.

In so many words, they called me a liar. That hurt more than losing my best friend.

If Monday were a color, she’d be red. Crisp, striking, vivid, you couldn’t miss her—a bull’s-eye in the room, a crackling flame.

I saw so much red that it blinded me to any flags.

“I know I’ve only been in this school for a couple of years, but back in New York, when a student doesn’t show up for class nor register for school, the school follows up. Is that not the case here?”

“A lot of students didn’t return this year. Most had to move due to rent going up and stuff. But I’ll pass a note along.”

Even though it looked like an army of trolls had beaten her with baseball bats, how could I not believe? She was my best friend. If she was lying, it had to be for a good reason.

Right?

“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.”

“You gonna do everything that bamma tell you. You could’ve broken your leg or something. You can’t dance on no broken leg.”

She rolled her eyes and giggled. “I was fine. I’ve done it before…when I had to.”

That’s weird, I thought. Why the hell would she have to climb out a window? Maybe they practice for fire drills or something.

“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.

Couldn’t believe she’d just ditch me like this. She knew I needed her, knew if she wasn’t around teachers would find out about me. She was carrying me worse than Jacob ever carried her. How could she do this to me? Why hasn’t she called?

And why do I feel so alone?

“I tried to bring it up before, but folks just told me to keep you moving. Everything about this school is driven by our ranking. No one has time to just take a moment and really be with our students. You’re old enough to know this now, but sometimes, all you are to this school is a score that adds up with the overall score. And the higher the score, the better the reputation. You know what I mean?”

“Over the last few months we’ve had dozens of girls around here reported missing, close to fifty in one week. Alleged kidnappings when most of them just run off away from home ‘cause they can’t do what they want.”

“But shouldn’t you still be looking for them anyways?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, clearing his throat.

“Yes, but Claudia, I want you to remember, when you come into a police station, claiming your friend is ‘missing,’ it means us officers have to take our focus away from these girls. Girls who could really be in trouble.”

Tears prickled, and I avoided his glare.

“Now, if your friend’s really missing and she’s not on this board, then only a parent can file a missing persons report. And if her mother won’t, the only person left would be her father or a legal guardian.”

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.

Maybe I’m not the best person to talk about the bruises.

See, I’d seen a couple on Monday, here and there. But I never gave them much thought. They were always followed by the most practical excuses. I mean, kids bruise. We roughhouse, we jump, we run, we fall, and then we bruise. Sometimes we even scar. So if I did see a bruise or a cut, it meant nothing. Just another star in the sky.

I read a report that said there were over two dozen scars on Monday’s body when they found her.

Rumors are born with legs that can run a mile in less than a minute.

Rumors eat up dreams without condiments.

Rumors do not have expiration dates.

Rumors can be deadly.

Rumors can get you killed.

I loved her. Well, I mean, not like that. I didn’t love her in a way a girl loved a girl, like romantically. I loved her more like a soul mate loved a soul mate. Who makes up the rules for who your soul belongs to? But what if April was right? What if I didn’t really know Monday? It’d explain why she’d leave me like this.

“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.

Can I tell you a secret? I knew she was dead. I just hoped she’d be in the trunk of a car, chopped up, and buried somewhere. Not in a freezer, hiding in plain sight. That aggravated the pain felt by anyone who ever laid eyes on her.

“Why didn’t she tell me anything?”

“She didn’t want you feeling sorry for her,” she said.

“I would’ve tried to help her.”

April shook her head. “How? And she wouldn’t have wanted you to anyways.”

“Didn’t matter what she wanted! What was she gonna do, hate me? At least she’d be alive!”

“But I didn’t save her,” I said, bursting into tears. “I couldn’t save her.”

“You did save her, Claudia! You saved her from that house for years and you didn’t even know it.”

“Wait! How’d you get rid of the buzzing?”

Ms. Roundtree smiled, folding her hands together. “It’s all about the way you look at it. You got to decide what something is or isn’t. It may have been buzzing, but I decided it’s humming. Someone is just humming a song in my ear. A pretty song.”

Glancing at the house one last time, I gave Ms. Roundtree a hug. “Thank you.”

“Sure, baby, anytime.”

I jumped in the car, kissed Michael, and we drove off, cranking up Daddy’s newest song.

With Monday humming along.