Page 20 of Genesis

I look out the window, a feeling as heavy as an ocean wave crashing down on top of me passes through my soul.

Despair.

Heartache.

Pain so severe I can taste it.

Why do our minds replay all the special memories we shared with a person when they die? Why do I remember all the good things about my mama? It only hurts worse. Moments of laughter, of her picking me up when I fell. I see her smile behind my eyes, her sweet scent after she’s just left a room. The sound of her humming while she’s cooking pancakes on a Sunday morning.

I die inside.

Loaded with pain, I feel salty tears slip from my eyes, crawling down my cheeks. Mama takes a deep breath. My eyes go to her chest and I watch it fall, but it moves no more. I hang my head, close my eyes, and let my heart rip in two. My whole body shakes. I kiss her hand before leaning up and kissing her cheek, and then I reach around her neck and remove the locket she always wears. A photo of us lives inside.

“No matter where I go, or what I do, I’ll never, never forget you.” I cry. “What will I do without you?” My chest quakes, my vison blurry. I place the locket around my neck, squeeze Mama’s hand one more time, and then I walk out. Uncle Hale looks up when I exit the room. My eyes go to the clock on the wall. Ten minutes after nine.

“She’s gone,” I say.

He looks down, his own grief washing over him.

“I’m sorry, kid,” he says.

I sniff. “Can I go next door?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah, sure.”

I walk past him and head out the door, running over to the boys’ house. I knock three times and Ma answers. I don’t have to say anything. They all knew this was happening.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, grabbing me in a hug. She pulls me into the house. “Is your uncle over there?”

I nod, unable to speak.

“I’ll give him a call. You’ll stay here tonight, if that’s what you want?”

I nod again. Paul and Samuel sit in the living room. Paul’s dressed, clearly going out. He stands up with his keys in his hand. “Sorry, Bex,” he says, giving me his own hug. He smells like cologne and aftershave. At seventeen, Paul’s fading more and more away from this neighborhood. I want that for him. He’s like the older brother I never had, and I love him so much.

“You take my room,” he says. “The sheets are clean.” He gives me a wink and I give him a weak smile in thanks. “I’ll be back later, Ma,” he adds, heading out the door.

“Be safe,” she replies. I look over at Samuel. He’s the same age as me and just as cute as his brothers.

“You wanna watch a movie or something?” he asks. I wonder where Danny, the boy who followed me in the dark when I found out Mama’s cancer had spread, is right now. The boy who stopped coming to my window and made my heart almost combust with happiness on my thirtieth birthday, only to break it when he wouldn’t stay the night with me.

He’s never home anymore, and I miss him. I miss the sound of tiny rocks tapping on my bedroom window. I miss hearing about his wild nights running the streets. We grew so close. He’s heard my mama’s coughing fits. He’s been there when I’ve tried not to cry because she was spitting up blood. The only thing I really don’t miss is when he used to tell me about his girlfriends at school. It made my stomach burn.

Disappointment is nothing new when I think of Danny. I’m sure he’s only thought of me as a little girl and that’s why he’s always called me that. Of course, he isn’t here the night my mama dies. Danny has a one-track mind when it comes to the streets.

He wants to own them. At only fifteen, the boy I like is into some bad stuff.

“Yeah,” I say to Samuel. “A movie sounds good.”

Ma makes us some popcorn, but I don’t touch it. Samuel and I sit on opposite ends of the couch, and after Ma goes to bed, we stay that way. Samuel is the good brother. He does his homework and stays out of trouble. He’s nothing like his two older brothers.

Paul is smart, and his mind is always working. He’s a good guy on the outside, but you can tell there’s something inside of him he doesn’t show to everyone. It’s his best kept secret.

Danny doesn’t hide anything. He shows you exactly who he is. He’s straightforward and that sometimes hurts, but it’s him. The church clock chimes, telling us it’s past midnight now. Samuel has tried to make me laugh. He’s sweet, but my heart isn’t happy, and when your heart is sad, it affects everything.

“I’m going to go on up,” I tell him. “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

“Anytime,” he says. His brown hair falls in front of his eyes and he swipes it out of the way. “I’m really sorry about your mom. I know…” He takes in a breath. “I know it hurts, but it will get easier.”

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