She shook her head. Took in a great gasping breath.
Impossible, I heard my father whisper in my head. Improbable.
I couldn’t move. “What?” I said. “What? Oh, no. What? Oh, please just tell me what.”
Her eyes welled. “He’s…. Oh, my God.”
Choke your hands up on the bat, son. It’s the only way to get a good swing in. Not that high, a little lower. There you go. All right. Incoming, you ready?
Pain in my stomach, sharp and burning. I wrapped my arms around myself, clutching as I bent over and gagged. A low moan escaped me. “Ah,” I said. “Ah. Ah.”
“He’s gone, Benji.”
Heard another one today, Benji. It’s bad. You ready? Did you hear about the guy that went to a zoo that had no animals except for a dog? It was a Shiatzu!
“Oh my God, Big Eddie is gone,” my mother said.
Hand me the 5/8wrench, Benji. We’ll see if we can get this son of a bitch started. Motherfucker ain’t gonna get away from us, no sir. This bastard is ours.
“I don’t know how it—oh, Christ,” she cried.
C’mon, son! You’re better than this. How could you get a C in English class? It is your first language, after all. I’m kidding! Ha, ha! Don’t give me that look, just do better, for Christ’s sake.
“This isn’t real. This isn’t real,” she said, taking another stumbling step.
I will always look you in the eye. I’ve raised you to be honest and kind. I’ve raised you to be brave and strong. If you can become the man I think you’ll be, then you and me will always be eye to eye. You get me?
“My heart—oh, how my heart hurts,” she moaned as she gripped the countertop.
And you know what my father told me? He told me I wouldn’t amount to anything. He told me I would come crawling back. That I wouldn’t be able to stand on my own two feet. He said it’s what I deserved for getting your mom pregnant when we were so young. But you know what? I never crawled back. I amounted to something, though it might not be much. I am standing tall. And you know what else? I’ve still got your mom. And you, my son. I’ve still got you. And damn if that isn’t the only thing I could ever want.
“You shut your mouth,” I said hoarsely.
My mother recoiled as if I’d slapped her, her eyes wide. She recovered and started to move toward me again. I knew I should have taken her in my arms then, held her close, protected her with all I had, but she’d brought the rain and I couldn’t seem to find the rationality in all my horror.
“Back off,” I hissed at her through gritted teeth. My eyes were burning, my stomach sick. “You’re lying. Why are you lying? Why would you say that to me?”
“No,” she moaned. “No, baby, I’m not. There was an accident, his truck went off the—”
I wanted to go to her, to hug her. Protect her. But she had brought in the rain and I couldn’t bring myself to console her. “You’re lying!” I shouted.
“Benji, you need to listen to me!” she cried. “You need to hear me! He’s—”
“No,” I snarled at her. “He’s not dead. He’s not dead! I would know if he was! I would know because I would feel it! He wouldn’t do that to me! He wouldn’t dare!” I stepped away from her so she couldn’t touch me, so I wouldn’t feel her skin against mine. It burned. It hurt. It felt like betrayal, heavy and real. This isn’t truth! I screamed in my head. This isn’t truth! She lies. She lies with her fucking mouth!
“There was an accident,” she said tearfully, moving around the counter. “The truck rolled down an embankment. Out near seventy-seven.”
“No. You lie. Stop it. Please, oh please, just stop.” He can’t be dead because I would feel it. I would know. There would be a light extinguished within me and it would be dark, it would all be dark and I would know. He’s my fucking father. He’s not supposed to leave me. Not now. Not yet. Not ever. We had a deal. We had a deal that he was going to stay alive forever because he’s my dad. He’s Big Eddie. Nothing happens to Big Eddie. Nothing.
She came around the side, her face wet. “The truck went into the river,” she said, her voice breaking on the last word. “They don’t know yet