Chapter 10 #2
I forced my gaze away from her hair, bypassing her eyes.
Her cheeks were sunken and hollow, her lips nonexistent.
The left side of her face was slack as if dead, the side of her mouth turned down into a grimace.
Her neck and shoulders were so painfully thin I could see the bones and tendons.
Sticking awkwardly out from her clean white nightgown, her hands and feet were bony and gnarled.
Surely not all this change had happened in the past week.
She easily looked forty years older than the last time I had seen her, and thirty years older than she really was.
When I managed to return to her eyes, her look of fury had been replaced by scared confusion. Obviously, she hadn’t known I was coming. She glanced around rapidly, as if searching for something. Finally, she looked back at me, narrowing her eyes and giving the slightest tilt of her head.
“Rose? It’s me. You don’t need to be afraid.”
She flinched a little at the sound of my voice but continued to stare.
“Rose.” I took another deep breath. “Mom. It’s me, Brooklyn.”
Her dull blue eyes widened in shock and recognition.
I heard her make a whimpering sound and reached out to her as I began to close the distance between us. I thought I saw tears starting to form in the corners of her cadaverous eyes. “Yes, Mom, I’m back.”
I reached out to touch her clawed left hand, and she jerked it back awkwardly with a low growl. I returned to her eyes. They were hard again, angry. She looked away.
I just looked at her. What had I expected?
Tears of joy for her long-lost son? Tears of sorrow and repentance for all the wasted years?
A tearful reunion full of apologies and forgiveness?
I should’ve known better. I took a second to look around the room I knew so well from childhood.
Although it had never been spotless, Mom had always kept a relatively neat home, at least clean enough to be livable.
I could tell that someone, Donnie, I figured, had tried to straighten up, but there were stacks of newspapers, magazines, and boxes all over the room.
I could see into her bedroom from where I stood, and I could see piles of clothes covering the floor.
The door next to hers was closed. It was my old room; it looked like it had been nailed shut.
This had definitely not all happened over the past week.
I knelt down beside her, careful not to touch her or get too close. “Mom?” I gave her a few seconds before I asked again. “Mom?”
Finally, she turned her head to look at me. Her eyes passed over my face, traveled down my body, and paused at the scars on my right forearm. Her expression was dull and unreadable. I could tell it was the best I was going to get.
“Mom. I’m back. Donnie called last week and let me know about your stroke.
I came back to help take care of you.” At this she sneered, causing the left side of her mouth to look even more grotesque.
“I just came tonight to say hello. I know it’s been a while and there’s lots of catching up to do.
” I glanced around, trying to fill the void.
“Now that I’m here, I might as well help clean up a bit.
” I had no idea what to say to her. No idea what to do.
At least cleaning was something that I could do, some way I could help.
I got up, went over to one of the piles of newspapers by the front door, and started to pick it up. She let out a wheezing bark; I stopped and looked over at her. Her fury was back, and she shook her head slightly.
“What? You don’t want me to clean all this up?”
She growled again.
“Mom, this place is a mess. You’re going to get sick!” Even to my own ears it sounded ridiculous.
Fury.
“Fine.” I stood back up. “No cleaning tonight.” I walked over to the closed door that led into my old bedroom; sure enough, there were hundreds of various-sized nails, some of which were only in the doorframe and the door itself, not doing any good.
I reached for the handle. Mom started huffing and growling again.
I turned to her. “I just want to see inside my old room, Mom. Don’t worry, I’m not going to take anything. ” I turned the handle.
It wouldn’t turn at all. I shook it a little harder. Still nothing. I could just push through the door. I turned back to Mom. She seemed to be smiling at me, although it was hard to tell.
“Fine, Mom. I won’t go in there tonight, either.” I walked over to her and bent down. “You can have your way tonight, but tomorrow, I am going to start getting this house clean and back in order. Come on, I will help get you ready for bed. It’s late.”
As I touched her arm, she snarled viciously at me, and I took a step back.
With a great groan, she pushed herself up with her right arm and glared back at me.
In finality, she turned and hobbled away from me and made her way into her bedroom.
Her limp was severe, and I could see the jutting of her hip bones through her nightgown.
Without a word, I got up, left the house, and shut the door. I got back into my car, and without even so much as a glance at the graveyard, I headed back to Maudra’s.