Mofongo

by Cecilia Samartin

  “You idiot!” someone shouted. “Are you trying to kill yourself or something?”

  He opened his eyes to see Kelly Taylor straddling him, her glasses cockeyed and her cheeks smudged with dirt. Keith came up behind her, a disappointed smirk on his face. “Why’d you stop him? You know I wanted to see his heart explode.”

  Kelly stood up, adjusted her glasses, and assumed that irresistible pose, her foot flaring out more than usual.

  “Is Monkey Boy dead?” someone asked.

  “Nah, he’s still alive,” Keith replied, obviously disappointed.

  Ms. Ashworth ran up and knelt down next to Sebastian, her hands trembling as she ran them over his hair and face. By now all the other students were standing around, but she frantically waved them away. “Stand back and give him some air,” she said. “Kelly, go to the office and tell them to call an ambulance.”

  “I don’t need an ambulance,” Sebastian muttered, and he even managed to sit up on his elbows. “I just need some space and time to… to catch my breath.”

  “It looks like he’s going to be okay Ms. Ashworth,” Kelly Taylor said, and the genuine concern in her eyes touched him, and motivated him to sit up fully. He shook the grass out of his hair and in a few seconds he was able to stand. For the first time, he enjoyed having all eyes focused on him. And as he walked off the field with Ms. Ashworth at his side, he wondered if this was how professional soccer players felt when they were injured during a spectacular play and were then able to walk off the field unaided.

  “We’re going straight to the nurse’s office, and I’m going to call your mother and tell her what happened,” Ms. Ashworth said, her voice still shaky.

  Sebastian may have been able to avoid the ambulance, but he knew there was no way to get out of seeing the nurse. “Okay, but do you have to tell my mom about what happened? She’s been under a lot of stress lately.”

  “I’m sorry Sebastian, but I have to call your mother,” she said, her thighs zipping rapidly, and then she asked, “Why did you take off running like that?”

  Sebastian shrugged. “I guess I just wanted to see if I could do it.”

  “Well, I hope you’re satisfied.”

  “Not really,” he replied. “I wanted to make a goal.”

  Gloria stood at the window of Dr. Lim’s office facing away from her son. Sitting on the examining table, Sebastian thought back on the events of the previous day. After receiving the phone call from Ms. Ashworth, his mother had left work immediately to pick him up. She had refused to take him to his grandmother’s house and insisted that he go straight to bed and rest. She was angry and frightened, and Sebastian could tell that she wanted to yell at him, but she held back because she didn’t want to upset him. She didn’t want his heart to experience any more stress than it already had.

  “I…I…don’t even know what to say,” Gloria had said softly before turning out the light in his room. “I still can’t believe what Ms. Ashworth told me happened today at school.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” he’d muttered looking up at her from his bed. And he really was sorry, yet every time he thought about how it felt to run, to really run for the first time in his life, a wonderful thrill traveled the length of his spine. Could he have made a goal if Kelly hadn’t stopped him? He wondered.

  “If anything happened to you…”

  “I said I’m sorry,” he repeated.

  She turned away then so that he couldn’t see her face.

  “Don’t cry Mom,” he said. “I won’t do it again. I promise that I’ll never do it again.”

  She said nothing more, and was silent for the rest of the evening. That was almost twenty four hours ago, and the heavy mood between them hadn’t lifted. She’d hardly spoken to Sebastian since the previous evening, and when her eyes fell upon him, however briefly, they were shrouded with the dark pain of betrayal. As things were, he preferred not looking at her too, and was glad that as they waited in the examining room, she was facing away from him. And he didn’t mind if this appointment involved several painful procedures. Maybe if he suffered a little, she’d feel sorry for him and snap out of it.

  Dr. Lim entered the room a few minutes later, and he was grinning so broadly that he almost didn’t look like himself. “I’m proud of you Sebastian,” he said, excitedly tapping the clipboard with his pen. “You gained five pounds since you were last here.”

  “I did?” And then he remembered how his trousers were starting to feel a bit snug.

  “It’s the most weight you’ve gained in months. What have you been doing differently?”

  “My grandmother’s been cooking for me, and she’s a really good cook.”

  “Really? What does she cook for you?” Dr. Lim asked.

  Gloria stepped away from the window before he could reply. “Didn’t you get my message?” she asked tersely.

  Dr. Lim’s smile dropped. “Yes, of course I did.”

  “I was hoping you’d talk with Sebastian about what happened at school yesterday.”

  Dr. Lim adjusted his glasses, and turned to Sebastian. “How far down the field did you get?” he asked, suppressing a smile.

  “About half way down,” Sebastian replied. “I wanted to make a goal, but I didn’t get the chance.”

  “Why, what happened?”

  Gloria crossed her arms in a huff and returned to the window. This wasn’t the kind of exchange she was hoping for, but moments later they heard her groan, and turned to see her focused on something outside. Then she turned around and stared straight ahead, arms crossed and fingers drumming against her arms.

  After a few minutes there was a soft knock on the examining room door, and Dean entered. His eyes met Gloria’s for a cold tense moment, and then he introduced himself to Dr. Lim who seemed quite pleased to have his patient’s father present for the first time. Upon Dean’s request, he summarized Sebastian’s progress thus far, and was eager to discuss the surgical option that he hoped to exercise in the near future. Dean nodded as he listened, interjecting a word or two to show that he understood. Then he glanced briefly at Gloria and said, “For some reason, I was always under the impression that another surgery wouldn’t be an option for Sebastian.”

  Dr. Lim appeared troubled to hear this. “I’m sorry if I didn’t make myself clear. As I’ve been saying to Mrs. Bennett all along, I believe that surgery is the best choice for Sebastian. And now that he’s finally putting on some weight, there’s little reason to wait any longer.”

  “Tell me about this surgery,” he asked, and Dr. Lim went on to explain that the goal of the operation is to repair the walls of the heart that hadn’t yet fused together so that it would function more normally.

  “Of course, there are always risks,” Dr. Lim concluded with a deferent nod to Gloria. “But I believe that the benefits would far outweigh the potential risks.” He would’ve been more explicit about the risks of not proceeding with the surgery - that in time Sebastian could be even more disabled than he was at present, but he thought it best to wait until Sebastian wasn’t in the room.

  Gloria remained silent, her eyes boring into her husband’s face.

  Dean turned to Sebastian, and smiled. “What do you think about all of this, son?”

  Sebastian wasn’t sure what his father was asking him. Was he referring to the surgery, their marital separation, the fact that his mother had been keeping important health matters a secret from him? He shook his head, too overwhelmed to speak.

  “So you don’t want to have the operation?” he asked.

  At this, Gloria pushed herself away from the wall, no longer able to keep silent. “Sebastian is ten years old, and he’s far too young to be making that kind of decision.”

  “But I’m not ten years old,” Dean returned, his voice firm, his gaze unwavering. “And I have every right to be involved in decisions regarding my son’s health and well being.”

  Gloria chuckled, it was the same cynical laugh Sebastian heard through the wall the last time they
argued. “So now you want to be involved? That’s great timing Dean. I don’t think anyone would question your motives.”

  “My being here has nothing to do with our separation, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Well then why are you here? Why did you take time away from your busy schedule? Shouldn’t you be out somewhere getting a drink or something?”

  Dr. Lim cleared his throat, his face red when he said, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have other patients waiting and I need to finish Sebastian’s exam. Perhaps you can talk about this outside.”

  Gloria and Dean left the examining room so that Dr. Lim could finish his examination, but Gloria didn’t stick around to hear what her husband had to say. As far as she was concerned, she’d heard enough, and she certainly had nothing more to say to him. She went directly to the ladies room, and stayed there for the next several minutes while Dean waited outside. She knew from experience that Dr. Lim wouldn’t be too much longer, and exited the ladies room just as Sebastian appeared with the nurse. Gloria hastily confirmed the date for the next appointment and snatched Sebastian’s hand, acting as though her husband wasn’t standing there with them, as though he were invisible.

  Unfazed, Dean followed his wife and son out of the building and across the parking lot as they marched briskly to the car. Sebastian glanced over his shoulder several times to see if his father was keeping up. When they reached the car, Gloria frantically searched her purse for her keys, and dropped her sunglasses in the process. Dean picked them up and handed them to her.

  She glared at him for a moment or two and then snatched them back. “I won’t have you…I won’t have you…”

  “Interfering in decisions regarding my son’s health?”

  She was silent as she squeezed down hard on Sebastian’s hand.

  “Last week I called the clinic to find out when Sebastian’s next appointment was scheduled, and while you were in the ladies room I told the secretary that I wanted to be informed of all future appointments as well,” Dean said.

  Gloria’s face bloomed a brilliant red. “Why are you doing this? Haven’t you done enough already?”

  Dean stepped back with a pained expression on his face as he considered Sebastian who stood silent between them. He didn’t like talking about these matters in front of his son, but doubted that he’d have another opportunity any time soon. “This may be hard for you to believe Gloria, but my interest in attending Sebastian’s appointments has everything to do with him and nothing to do with you or us. I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable with it, but that’s how it’s going to be until I can trust you.”

  Gloria drew in her breath. “Trust?” she asked, her eyes bugging out at him. “You have the nerve to talk about trust? Now I’ve heard everything.”

  Dean gazed at his wife regrettably, almost tenderly, but he said nothing more about it. He embraced Sebastian and told him he’d be by for him on Sunday, and then walked away.

  Gloria was muttering to herself as she unlocked the car door when Sebastian pulled away from her and yelled out across the parking lot, “Mofongo!”

  Dean turned around, and cupped his hand to his ear.

  “Mofongo!” he cried out even louder. “Abuela Lola’s making Mofongo on Sunday and she wants you to go to her house and have some.”

  Dean smiled, and waved. “Thanks for letting me know,” he called back.

  Feeling quite satisfied with himself, Sebastian scrambled into the back seat, and quickly fastened his seat belt.

  Gloria started the engine, and when she turned to back the car out her eyes locked onto Sebastian’s face. “You have a big mouth. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

  Sebastian didn’t reply, but as they drove away, try as he might, he couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gloria had always been an early riser. Even on weekends, she was usually up with her coffee and paper by seven, but it was nine o clock on Sunday morning, and she still hadn’t stirred. Downstairs in the kitchen, Jennifer poured out two bowls of cereal.

  “Maybe we should check on Mom,” Sebastian said.

  “Don’t bother her,” Jennifer replied. “Mom never gets a chance to sleep in.”

  As Jennifer poured milk over the cereal, Sebastian tried not to worry, but he couldn’t shake the dread he felt churning in the pit of his stomach, the desperate fear that something was terribly wrong with his mother. The confrontation at the doctor’s office had deeply upset her, and very late one night he was awakened by the sound of her weeping.

  Excusing himself to go to the bathroom, he pushed himself away from the table and went upstairs. He knocked lightly on his mother’s bedroom door, but there was no answer. He knocked again, and then opened it to find her lying flat on her back with the sheets pulled up under her chin. He was relieved to see her chest slowly rising and falling, and stepped into the room to get a closer look. The hazy morning light filtered in through the lace curtains and fell in soft beams across her face. Her forehead and cheeks were velvety smooth and free of worry, and her lips were turned up in a shade of a smile.

  “What are you doing?” Jennifer asked loudly. “I told you to leave Mom alone. She needs to rest.”

  “But maybe she’s sick,” Sebastian said.

  Gloria stirred at the sound of her children’s voices and opened her eyes, blinking away her fatigue and momentary confusion. But when her eyes focused on them, those little strings of anxiety immediately took hold, tugging at her forehead, tightening the corners of her mouth, and creating those familiar folds and creases. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “Why aren’t you up yet? Are you sick?” Sebastian asked.

  Gloria sat up on her elbows. “Of course not. I’m…I’m just tired.”

  “I told you so,” Jennifer said, wrapping her arm around her brother’s shoulders and guiding him out of the room, but he gently pushed her away.

  “Don’t forget, today is Sunday and Abuela Lola’s making Mofongo.”

  When Gloria heard this, she groaned and dropped back down to the pillow. “I don’t think I can go to your grandmother’s house today,” she said.

  “But Mom,” Sebastian replied, almost pleading. “She’s making Mofongo.”

  “What’s Mofongo?” Jennifer asked.

  Gloria draped the crook of her arm over her eyes in a melodramatic fashion, as though to shut out the world and all of its annoyances.

  “Mom,” Sebastian said. “Didn’t you hear me? We have to go to Abuela Lola’s house and eat Mofongo.”

  “What the hell is Mofongo?” Jennifer asked again.

  He turned to her, somewhat annoyed. “I don’t know what it is, but if Abuela Lola’s making it, it has to be good.”

  Gloria lowered her arm, and peered at them through half closed eyes. “You’re father will be by this afternoon, and I’m sure he’d love to take you.”

  “I’m not going with him,” Jennifer muttered.

  “Suit yourself,” Gloria replied, and she turned on her side, and fell back asleep.

  Later that day, as Sebastian waited by the window for his father to arrive, he tried to convince Jennifer to join them.

  “Listen Sebastian,” she said. “I know that mom can be a bitch sometimes, but that doesn’t excuse what Dad did to her. I can’t forgive him for that. I…I still need more time.”

  “But don’t you want to try Mofongo?” he asked weakly, knowing it was a hopeless cause.

  Jennifer shook her head resolutely. “I don’t care if Abuela Lola’s making the most exquisite food that ever passed human lips, I won’t betray Mom.”

  She left the house just as the rumble of her father’s jeep could be heard coming down the street. Through the window, Sebastian saw him wave to her, but she pretended not to see him and continued walking. Even from such a distance, Sebastian could see the hurt in his eyes, and to compensate for Jennifer’s rude behavior, he waited out on the driveway for him. The last thing Sebastian wanted was
for his father to endure another difficult encounter with his mother who was in no mood to be friendly. She’d finally got out of bed, but was still irritable as she read the paper and drank her morning coffee in the kitchen. As they drove off, Sebastian glanced back to see if she’d been watching them through the window again, but this time the curtains remained closed.

  “What should we do today?” Dean asked, trying his best to sound cheerful, but his disappointment over Jennifer was like a lump in his throat, and it made his voice sound strange.

  “Abuela Lola’s making Mofongo. Remember I told you?”

  “Oh, that’s right,” he said casually. The truth is he hadn’t forgotten, but he was hoping that Sebastian had, as he wasn’t eager to face the family quite so soon. “But you go to your grandmother’s house every day. I thought we could head down the coast instead. It should be a nice day.”

  “I’d rather go to Abuela Lola’s house and eat Mofongo,” Sebastian replied.

  His father shrugged weakly. “Okay, if that’s what you want to do, son.”

  When they arrived to Bungalow Haven, the aroma of garlic and onions cooking in olive oil beckoned them to hurry down the lane to the little yellow house at the back.

  “Slow down, what’s the big hurry?” Dean asked.

  “I don’t want it to be all gone,” Sebastian replied, breathless with anticipation.

  Dean chuckled. “If I know your grandmother, she’s made enough food for fifty people.”