Millie’s hair is a bouncy black shadow that ebulliently trails behind her when she runs up and down the court. Her Puerto Rican skin is pale and it’s amusing to see her have to scrunch all the way to the ground in order to spring up and throw the ball up and into the basket. Full of effervescent enthusiasm, Millie cannot stand to sit on the bench at a game. She would tug at my shirt and beg, Mr. Choi, put me in the game! I want to play! Please, pretty please?
Despite her bright personality Millie sits quietly on the faded wooden floor by the wall with bags under her eyes, a bit shyer than usual today. She is so tired she can’t run during today’s basketball practice. She wears a serious face, quiet and focused on her breathing as if she is manually instructing her lungs to inhale and exhale.
Did you notice anything about Melissa? Ms. Bobcombe asks.
I know Millie has drug-addicted parents and a whole slew of older brothers who are also users and dealers. No one cooks or takes care of the house, and I would see her carrying loads of laundry to the laundry mat several blocks away all by herself after school sometimes. She is so small and thin she reminds me of an ant hauling a leaf 5 times her size whenever I run into her walking into the Hunts Point Laundry Mat. I was afraid of what I was going to hear next.
Melissa’s eyes are yellow from malnutrition, she continues. Her parents have not been feeding her well for the past month or so. Not only that, she’s been wearing her older brother’s long sleeve t-shirt for several days in a row!
What about a jacket? Does she have a jacket? It’s middle of December! Oh, she lost it like many twelve year olds do. But I hadn’t noticed. I should have, but I hadn’t. How can her parents neglect her like this?
Megalina, did you know anything about this? Megalina lives one floor above Millie’s in the same building. She’s quite large for a girl of fifteen and looks twenty-five except she has peppery freckles dotting her cheeks which has managed to preserve some of her youthful countenance. She is the type of girl who can take care of herself wherever she goes, the type that boys don’t mess with.
Yeah, I’ve been trying to feed her at my place whenever Melissa comes over. I tell her to come upstairs when people are shootin’ up in her apartment. Her parents have gotten worse these days…
I was angry and sad seeing little Millie sitting against the wall like a crumpled coat fallen off the hanger. I wanted to hold her and tell her that she deserved better, that I was going to help her have a better life. I wanted to. I really I wanted to but I couldn’t even convince myself. I cried inside.
Mr. Choi, can I play now? I feel better.
Are you sure Millie? Millie…you know what?…yeah, okay. You can play, but make sure you tell me if you get dizzy or anything, okay?
Melissa never misses a day of school or basketball practice. She’s not the smartest nor the most athletic. She’s not even the most diligent with her homework, but she likes being in school and tries very hard while she’s there, and that’s more than I can ask.
--from 2005
