She’d been gone 14 years now.
Fourteen years, and I still wake up sometimes reaching for her hand.
I still remember her singing songs to me before she had to go to that job and even after that when she was too tired to breathe properly.
“Come on baby!” she would laugh, holding out her hand and beckoning me to dance with her to the music she would play.
She used to play these super old songs, but they had soul in them just like she did.
That day she asked me to dance with her, the music was loud and filled the house with heart. She loved that song.
“Come See About Me” by The Supremes.
Daddy had been dancing with her for a little bit.
“All right you come take over,” he told me, smiling.
Smiling, I danced with her, taking her hands as she twirled me around slowly to the music.
“Yeess!! Get it, baby! That’s my baby! Got moves like her mama,” she would say, smiling widely at me as I completed the twirl to put both my hands in hers again.
“Hahaha! You too mommy!” I laughed.
“Get in here Bruce!” Mommy called out to Dad.
“My back,” Daddy would laugh, sending her away.
“Uh uh. We dance as a family in this house,” she said, going over to him and pulling him up.
She did most of the work, exerting energy I had no idea she had or where she pulled from after being so tired.
Every time I hear that song I remember my mom. Remember how we were all laughing and being silly in the living room, which was lit by the warm glow of the lamp.
Remembering how we all got worried as she doubled over coughing, stopping the dance as the music played in the background, a haunting soundtrack to her spitting up blood.
The echoes of the music fade away back into the recesses of my mind as I sit here in jail.
My whole life feels like it’s falling apart. Everything is a blur. I was already seeing red and then that woman provoked me. I wonder what my mom would think about me now.
When it’s my turn, they fingerprint me and take my mugshot. My phone is confiscated, placed in holding somewhere, and they take down my information.
I’m told after my nap, not knowing how long I’ve been sleeping, that someone posted my bail.
When I go out, Lincoln stands there. The shame crosses my face. But then again, if he hadn’t been with that woman, if everything that happened hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be in this situation.
Then again, I fully understand that it was my own fault. My mom always told me to use my words. My mom claimed she was breaking her body so that I would have the freedom to use my words.
I know for certain she would not be proud of my actions, even though I was doing it in defense of her.
“You okay?” Lincoln asks.
What a dumb question.
I don’t answer, so I walk past him to his car; a much nicer one than the one he had before. He opens the door for me. I have no idea why I expected to see Sarah in there, but I guess it makes sense she’s not here.
Lincoln sits in the car in silence before deciding to drive off. “Is there… somewhere I can drop you?” he asks.
Is he trying to find out where I live?
