Mofongo

by Cecilia Samartin

  “Her name is Ms. Ashworth. She called me this afternoon and said that Sebastian walked out of her classroom even after she specifically asked him to wait for her.”

  “Very strange.”

  “I sent him straight to his room when we got home. He’s supposed to be doing his homework and writing a letter of apology. I should probably go check on him.”

  Sebastian scrambled back to his room and closed the door. He tossed his book bag on the bed, and started looking for the homework pages Ms. Ashworth had given him, but they weren’t where he remembered putting them. He dumped everything out of his bag so that it would appear he was making a sincere effort to find them, but when his mother entered the room moments later, she was disappointed to see that he hadn’t even started yet.

  “What are you doing young man?”

  “I’ve been looking for my homework, but I can’t find it,” he replied, and he riffled through his stuff more vigorously.

  “Look here,” she said reaching down. “There’s a whole other pocket you haven’t checked yet.”

  Before Sebastian could say anything, she unzipped the front pocket of his book bag and pulled out all the contents. Pencils and erasers, old popsicle sticks, cafeteria tickets and odd scraps of paper fell onto his bed, and sitting on top of everything was the business card he’d taken from Ms. Ashworth’s desk. His mother immediately recognized the writing which prompted her to pick up the card and turn it over. All the while, Sebastian didn’t so much as blink as he watched the crease transecting her forehead deepen.

  “Sebastian,” she said coolly. “Where did you get this card?”

  He swallowed hard. “It’s Dad’s business card.”

  “I know what it is,” she replied, her voice smooth as glass. “What I want to know is where you found it.”

  He stared at her questioning face, and the band of fear around his throat began to constrict, nearly choking him. He couldn’t possibly tell her where he found it. If he told her that, he’d have to tell her everything he knew about how his father’s eyes flashed when he looked at Ms. Ashworth, that strange far away smile, the fluttering eyelids, and the billowy words that passed between them infused with riddles of meaning and desire he couldn’t begin to decipher, but he knew it was wrong because of the sick way it made him feel.

  “Talk to me, Sebastian,” she said. “I’m not mad at you, I just want to know where you found your father’s card.”

  At that moment, Dean appeared in the doorway. “Is there a problem?” he asked, his blue eyes sparkling merrily as always.

  In answer to his question, Gloria held the card out to him. He took it from her, and blanched when he turned it over.

  “I’ve been asking Sebastian where he found this, but he seems to have forgotten,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.

  Dean stood sullen before them. “I think we should talk in the other room,” he muttered.

  “Why?” Gloria asked. “This card was in Sebastian’s book bag, and I want to know where he got it. For God’s sake Dean,” she said breathing heavily now. “What have you got him involved in?”

  “Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “Honestly, I…” He turned back to Sebastian, his eyes filled with a deep foreboding. He hated putting his son through this, but at the moment he couldn’t think of a way out. “Tell your mother where you found the card, Sebastian.”

  Sebastian shook his head. He felt short of breath and it was difficult to speak.

  “You can tell her, son,” he said gently. “It’ll be okay.”

  Sebastian placed his hand over his heart, and could feel the pounding force of it against his palm. He waited a few seconds for it to lessen. “I found it in Ms. Ashworth’s desk.”

  “Your teacher?” Gloria asked. “Why were you going through her desk?”

  He looked to his father who nodded for him to continue, but Sebastian could tell by the look in his eyes that he was already a million miles away, and resigned to whatever catastrophe may lay ahead.

  “I saw Dad give her the card when he dropped me off this morning, but I didn’t want her to have it, so I stole it when she went to the principal’s office. I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have stolen it.”

  Gloria’s face went slack, as she turned her son’s words over in her mind. But no matter how she pulled them apart and put them back together again, the meaning didn’t change.

  This time when Dean suggested that they continue the conversation somewhere else, she acquiesced and followed him down the hall to their bedroom. But even with the door closed, Sebastian could hear their muffled voices through the thin walls separating their bedrooms. He’d heard many of his parent’s arguments over the years. Usually they argued about money, and projects that needed to be done around the house, and other household and family matters that he didn’t always understand. This time, he assumed it would be worse, and he was right.

  “It was an idiotic thing to do,” Dean said, almost pleading. “I don’t know what got into me. I…I…guess it just felt good to have a woman smile at me again, I wasn’t thinking …”

  “Do you really expect me to believe anything you have to say now?”

  “It’s the truth. I swear I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  Gloria laughed bitterly. “And it just so happens that the first time you try it, you’re caught by your own son.”

  “I know it’s hard to believe…”

  “Only a fool would believe it.”

  “Gloria, you have to listen…”

  “No, I don’t….”

  “But if you just…”

  “Can’t you hear me?” Gloria yelled.

  “Yes I hear you,” Dean yelled back even louder. “I always hear you, but you haven’t heard a word I’ve said for the past ten years. I’m invisible to you too. Everyone and everything is invisible to you. Except for Sebastian - he’s all you care about.”

  “He’s sick and I’m his mother,” Gloria said more softly.

  “I know he’s sick, but you have a husband and a daughter as well.”

  There was a long pause after which Gloria spoke, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I guess this is all my fault and I should be the one apologizing to you. Well then please allow me to beg your forgiveness. Forgive me for forcing you to hit on our son’s teacher the first chance you had. I shouldn’t have allowed you to take him to school. I should’ve known that my mindless devotion to our sick little boy would provoke you to do something like this. Can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me Dean?”

  After several seconds of silence Dean said, “You disappeared after Sebastian was born, Gloria. That’s all I know.”

  Sebastian staggered back from the wall toward his bed and lay down amongst the items still scattered all over it. He put his pillow over his head so that he wouldn’t have to listen anymore, and he felt a great heaviness in his heart much worse than the fluttering weakness he was so familiar with. But no matter how hard he pressed the pillow against his ears, he couldn’t obliterate the realization that his parents, his family and everybody he knew would be much better off if he’d never been born.

  Jennifer arrived home from cheerleading practice a couple of hours later. Finding no one in the kitchen, she went straight upstairs to Sebastian’s room. He was busy working on the lost homework he eventually found stuffed inside his math book, and had every intention of beginning his apology letter next. He hoped that it would help matters if his parents saw him working hard, although he hadn’t heard a peep from them for quite some time.

  Jennifer plopped herself down on Sebastian’s bed. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Mom’s hiding out in her room and Dad’s car is gone. Don’t tell me they had another fight. The last time they had a fight we ate nothing but peanut butter sandwiches for a week.”

  Sebastian wondered whether he should tell Jennifer what happened because sometimes the way she scolded their parents only made things worse. But realizing it would only be a matter of time unti
l she found out on her own, he decided to tell her everything, beginning at the point when their father first set eyes on Ms. Ashworth at the start of the school year, and then everything that had happened on that day up until just a couple of hours ago. It actually felt good to get it off his chest.

  “Shit,” she said, pounding her fist on the bed. “Shit, shit, shit!” Tears trailed down her cheeks, and she angrily slapped them away.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stolen dad’s card,” Sebastian said.

  “It’s not your fault,” she snapped.

  “It’s Ms. Ashworth’s fault for wearing short skirts and…”

  “No,” Jennifer corrected, staring at her brother with cold demeaning eyes. “Your teacher can’t help it if she’s beautiful. What’s she supposed to do, spend the rest of her life with a bag over her head? It’s Dad’s fault. He should never have written that note. It was a cheesy, disgusting thing to do.”

  Sebastian was stunned to silence in the wake of such a declaration, and all he could do was watch his sister pick the dark green nail polish from her thumb and forefinger for the next minute or so.

  “C’mon,” she finally said, “Let’s go downstairs and I’ll make you a peanut butter sandwich.”

  On the way downstairs, Sebastian dared to make a request. He knew it was a long shot, but it was the only thing he could think of to ease the dread he felt swirling deep in the pit of his stomach. “Will you read to me tonight until I fall asleep?” he asked.

  “I don’t feel like reading to you tonight,” she said.

  “How about just for fifteen minutes?”

  They walked past their parent’s bedroom door, and Jennifer hesitated, wondering if she should knock, but then decided against it. She knew from experience that after the worst arguments it was best to give her mother plenty of time to cool down, and this was more serious than anything they’d faced before.

  “Okay. How about ten minutes?” Sebastian asked.

  “I said no,” Jennifer replied more firmly as they proceeded down the stairs. “Anyway, you’re getting too old for that sort of thing.”

  It was the longest school day Sebastian could remember. He’d promised his mother when she drove him to school that this time he would obey her and go to the after school program. She looked so forlorn, so completely out of sorts, that he feared she’d fall apart if he said anything else. What would happen if she knew that for a split second he’d actually thought about how it would be to have Ms. Ashworth for a mother instead of her? He felt horribly guilty thinking about it, but he couldn’t help but wonder if life might be a little bit more interesting with a beautiful mother who laughed all the time and swung her hair around just for fun. But he didn’t entertain this idea for long because the sadness he felt when he thought of his mother all alone without him made him sick. Losing her would be like losing an arm or a leg, or his very life.

  Sebastian hadn’t seen his father at all that morning, but he had no doubt that he would want him to go to the after school program too. Even so, Sebastian yearned to tell his grandmother all about his parent’s argument the night before because he knew she’d set his mind at ease as she had in the past, and this made his desire to return to her house stronger than ever. It gnawed at his insides, making it difficult for him to concentrate on his lessons. This, and his desire to avoid Keith, made the feeling overwhelming.

  Ms. Ashworth had been somewhat reserved toward Sebastian all day. When he gave her his apology letter, she accepted it with a smile, but it was nothing like the radiant smiles she usually lavished upon him. Sebastian knew that she no longer thought of him as the sweet doe-eyed little sick kid who’d do anything she asked of him which made him feel both sad and exhilarated. And these conflicting feelings only heightened his confusion over what to do when the bell rang.

  Of course, this time it wouldn’t be so easy for Sebastian to sneak away. Ms. Ashworth made certain that he was standing right next to her when she dismissed the students row by row. Then she took his hand and walked him directly to the after school program. As they made their way, Sebastian took no pleasure in the sound of her zip zippy thighs or the flowery smell of her perfume. He felt her disappointment oozing into him through her fingers like black tar. When they finally reached the recreation room and she released him, his fingers were sticky with it.

  After briefly explaining his physical limitations, Ms. Ashworth turned Sebastian over to a young teacher’s aid who immediately found a quiet place for him to sit with some paper and crayons. Just beyond a set of double doors, he spotted Keith hanging upside down from the jungle gym by his knees like a bat. He was throwing playful punches at one of his friends who kept jabbing him in the stomach. Sebastian quickly looked away, well aware that people could sense when they were being watched. With any luck, he’d make it through the next two or three hours without being noticed.

  Sebastian took up the first crayon his fingers fell upon and began to move it across the page. Without thinking about it, he drew a series of lines and loops one after the other, more interested in appearing busy than anything else, but soon found himself looking at something that resembled a face. If he squinted, he could just make out the long crooked nose and beady eyes. The lips were set like a powerful gash, and the face had many cris-crossing wrinkles around the mouth and the eyes. So many, that he had to go over the features with a heavier line so that they wouldn’t get lost amongst the creases. Next, he colored in the hair, thick and black so that it stuck out in a funny wrangled mess on the sides and the top. He used a black marker to make it darker still, and that’s when the eyes began to sparkle with life, and the lips slithered against each other, preparing to speak. Sebastian felt a strange but not unpleasant vibration deep in his inner ear, so that he couldn’t be sure if he was hearing her or feeling her speak. Nevertheless, the black haired old lady’s rough voice was as clear as if she were sitting right next to him.

  “Why aren’t you with your grandmother where you belong?” she asked.

  Sebastian was so shocked that he couldn’t answer.

  “Well,” she said. “Are you deaf?”

  “I…I promised my mother I’d come here,” Sebastian replied. “And if I break my promise, I’ll get in lots of trouble, maybe the worst trouble of my life.”

  “Life and trouble are often one in the same,” the old lady said. “Anyway, you kept your promise. You said you’d go to the after school program and you did. Did you ever promise that you wouldn’t see your grandmother?”

  “No,” he replied. “I never promised that.”

  All at once Sebastian felt a tingle travel up and down the length of his spine, and another dreadfully familiar voice behind him.

  “Who is that supposed to be?” Keith asked. Then he snatched the paper away to look at the drawing more closely, and immediately an enormous grin spread across his face. “I know who this is,” he said. “It’s Monkey Boy!”

  “Give it to me,” Sebastian cried, trying to snatch it back, but Keith had little trouble keeping it out of his reach.

  “You’re going to have to catch me first,” Keith said with a derisive smile. “Oh, but I forgot, Monkey Boy doesn’t know how to run.”

  “I know how to run,” Sebastian replied.

  “Then how come I never seen you? You’re always sitting or walking or just standing around like a dope.”

  “I know how to run, but I can’t.”

  “Why can’t you?” Keith asked. It was the closest thing to a civil conversation they’d ever had, and Keith didn’t seem too comfortable, but he was curious enough to endure it.

  “I have a bad heart,” Sebastian explained. “If I run, it’ll explode.”

  “Bullshit,” Keith said, glancing at the teacher’s aid to see if she’d heard him, but her attention was fully dedicated to the first graders she was playing with at the other end of the room. “Everyone says you have a bad heart, but I think you’re a faker.”

  Sebastian unfastened the top three butto
ns of his shirt, and opened it to reveal the upper third of the scar that ran down the center of his chest. It was shiny and raised, like a spaghetti noodle imbedded beneath a layer of skin. Keith’s eyes blew open at the sight. “Fuck,” he muttered, genuinely impressed, and unable to tear his eyes away even as Sebastian refastened the buttons. “What happens if your heart explodes?”

  “It’ll be like a grenade went off inside of me. Then I’ll bleed out, and die,” he replied in a matter of fact tone that made him feel almost brave.

  At that moment Keith’s friend, Sean, approached. He was one of the boys who’d stood around and cheered a few days ago while Sebastian performed his idiotic dance. “Hey what’s going on with Monkey Boy?” he asked.

  Keith tossed the drawing back at Sebastian and shoved Sean’s shoulder. “Dip shit,” he muttered, and he walked away. Sean followed him somewhat unsure as to who Keith was calling a “Dip shit.”

  Sebastian folded the drawing, and put it in the front zipper of his book bag. He glanced once at the aid who was still with the younger students, and then quietly slipped out of the room.

  Chapter Ten

  Sebastian peered into the shadows lurking behind the houses, the trees, and around every corner he passed. He sensed the encroaching darkness alive with mystery and a million little fears that could disperse in one brilliant flash of understanding. Although he was sometimes afraid of the dark, at that moment he was at peace with it. It was a lonely ghost that reminded him he had danced with death once, and that perhaps he would do so again.

  He thought of the black haired old lady from the hospital. She existed only in the shadows now, but he could feel her near him at times, watching him, guiding him when he couldn’t be sure where he was going. Perhaps he would show his grandmother the picture he’d drawn so that she could see for herself the ashen face, and the bizarre black hair that crowned it. Perhaps he would tell her about the strange conversation they’d had at the hospital. He peered more intently into the darkness, and quickened his pace.