the one with all the bells and whistles, the one where a long list of supposedly highfaluting doctors and respected nurses came and went. Some had promised over the years that Mama would be talking and writing in no time. That had never happened.
Her brain injury, and subsequent strokes and seizures had messed up the left lobe of her brain. Language in all forms – written, spoken and some comprehension – disappeared from her mind as if some tiny evil demon had crawled inside her head with an eraser and began his dirty work. Some had said she was too stubborn and that was why she’d only improved a little over time. Some had said the brain damage was irreversible after the car accident, even before the strokes had happened. Others had simply asked if he was a praying man…
Still, he held onto a shred of hope, although he was a realist. This might be as good as it could get. The end of the road. It was quite possible that Mama, though able-bodied again, would never regain her ability to speak, write, and fully understand things said to her, or be self-sufficient enough to live on her own ever again.
He approached a red light and gripped the steering wheel. Flashes of his childhood came in violent waves; things he’d forgotten about, or wished he’d disremembered. There was the small, run-down apartment in a bad part of town Mama had rented… Him skinning his knee and her cryin’ and wailing even more than he had… Her teaching him how to waltz and play various card games… And then she taught him how to swim, change a flat tire, catch, gut and skin a fish, and ride a bike, too…
Mama was something else back in those days…
A woman with hair the color of raven feathers, skin white as ice caps, eyes like amber fire… When she moved, she did so with purpose. She turned so many heads, guys would crane their necks just to get a look, reminding him of the girl on ‘The Exorcist’ Movie. But Mama had never bothered with many men. She had a child to feed and had always claimed he was her priority when men would try to push things beyond a mere friendship. Mama had worked as a domestic and taken additional part-time jobs here and there to make ends meet. She dropped out in the ninth grade, got her GED later in life, but she’d always loved to learn new things.
He remembered her continuously talking to him about what she saw on some science show on television, or speaking of the latest study they discussed on the news. She dressed in hand-me-downs so he could look okay in brand new clothes from some discount store going to school – and not get teased. She ate less than she needed, so he could have a bag of candy, a big plate of chicken, cabbage and mashed potatoes, or some cereal he’d begged for. She didn’t go out and have fun, so he would feel secure and safe, and have a little spending money to head to the movies with his friends every now and again.
But Mama had always been so private, never a gossip. There were so many things he didn’t understand about her; in fact, few in the family did. She’d go to church every so often, but read her Bible plenty alone in their home.
As far as he could remember, she’d never uttered a bad word about anyone, but he could look into her eyes and tell she’d suffered and struggled. Years ago, he’d been too young to understand, and she’d never shared the source of the pain.
Aries’ eyes watered as he fought a burst of anger that washed over him all of a sudden. It didn’t match the warm feelings he felt towards his mother, but the agony was for her. Oh yes, this worry and rage was all for her.
I needed her to talk to me! Her secrecy about his father had never wavered, no matter how nicely or persistently he’d asked. They didn’t have Google back then, an online DNA test to send with a cheek swab, and their family was spread all over Georgia like peanut butter on toast. Mama wasn’t particularly close to her family, either, with the exception of her mother and sister. And the aunts and uncles he had spoken to about it had all said the same thing: They had no idea who the man