Mofongo

by Cecilia Samartin

  She gazed into his face and saw the delicate salmon colored veins across his eye lids turn pale and then disappear entirely. “Answer me, Sebastian,” she pleaded. “I promise I won’t be angry at you for running, but please answer me little man.”

  He remained silent and limp in her arms and the warmth of his mother’s body was unable to quell the chill that had begun to overwhelm him and soon Gloria was shivering enough for both of them as she clung to her son. In the distance she heard the wail of the sirens approaching, and seconds later, a battalion of paramedics was rushing across the playground. And just as they fell upon them, the rain abruptly stopped. The clouds parted and the sun shone so intensely that steam could be seen rising up in misty columns toward the sky.

  Three Months Later

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Gloria had been in bed semi-conscious and delirious for days that turned into weeks and then months. She couldn’t remember much about anything that happened after she held Sebastian in her arms for the last time. The details of the funeral, the friends and family who called incessantly or showed up without warning to express their condolences were lost in a fog of sorrow she couldn’t see beyond. She wasn’t even sure how she ended up at the hospital on that final day, although she clearly remembered the small sparsely furnished room to which she was led. She was only there for a few minutes when Dean burst in, his eyes swollen, his trembling hands reaching out to her. “Our little man is gone, Gloria,” he cried, his voice hoarse after so much weeping. “He’s gone.”

  Gloria collapsed into her husband’s arms, and ever since that horrible day, she felt like a wild animal caught in trap, skinned alive and left to rot, a slithering soulless corpse.

  The time off she was allowed for bereavement had long ago elapsed, and she knew that without her income they’d find themselves in financial hardship again. She tried to force herself to get up and go to work, but every morning when she opened her eyes and realized where she was and remembered what had happened, she pleaded for God to take her so that she could be with her little boy. And whether her eyes were open or closed, all she saw was Sebastian’s face, his large dark eyes watching her as though from a great distance, yet with a gaze so penetrating that she felt he could see through her soul and beyond into an eternity she couldn’t begin to comprehend.

  Dean decided to move back until the situation with his wife stabilized. Jennifer had pleaded for him to come home and never leave again. She told him she was afraid to be alone with her mother, afraid of what she might do, and she couldn’t stand the emptiness in the house. She swore that sometimes she felt Sebastian near her, and she thought about things that had never crossed her mind before, like the world of spirits and death and whether or not heaven really existed. All of these mysteries that seemed so silly to her before, had found a deep and quiet place to lodge themselves in her heart.

  Every night Dean lay down next to his wife, and listened to her wail and moan for hours. When exhaustion overcame her grief allowing a deathlike slumber to set in, he would sometimes get up in the middle of the night and go into Sebastian’s room. Everything was just as he’d left it before going to school that last morning. His bed was unmade, and his desk drawer slightly open. Dean looked through his son’s things, his books, the student of the month medallion which rested on several notes written by his schoolmates. He was deeply moved by these precious relics, and was always careful to put them back exactly as he found them.

  At times, when his grief overwhelmed his better judgment, he buried his face in Sebastian’s clothing, inhaling the sweet familiar fragrance that lingered there. He filled his lungs, and for an exquisite magical second or two it was as though his little man was right there looking at him with those large sorrowful eyes. And then when the moment passed, he’d collapse onto his son’s bed, pull his legs up to his chest and weep. He should’ve insisted that Sebastian have the surgery, he should’ve taken the lead, and been the strong and decisive husband and father his family needed him to be. But he’d failed, and now his son was gone forever.

  Late one evening when Jennifer heard the sound of weeping from Sebastian’s room, she rushed in hoping to find her little brother there. She longed for a glimpse of him, a touch, a sound, anything that would let her know he still existed somewhere in the mystery beyond death. But when she saw that it was only her father, her first impulse was to return to her room and leave him alone with his grief as she’d been with hers. But then she thought better of it, and crouched down next to the bed as she so often did when Sebastian was alive.

  “Do you think there’s a heaven Daddy?” she asked. She hadn’t called her father “daddy” since she was about Sebastian’s age.

  “I don’t know,” he replied.

  “Well, I think there is,” she said boldly. “There has to be.”

  Dean lifted his head to study Jennifer’s face. He could just make out the glint of her eyes in the faint light. They were sad, yet overflowing with certitude which he found unexpectedly comforting, and it inspired him to say something more. “If there is a heaven then I’m sure Sebastian is there.”

  “I need a sign, Daddy. I need to know that our little man is okay and not alone. Let’s pray for a sign,” Jennifer said, holding out her hand to him. Neither Jennifer nor her father had ever prayed together, but on this night they clasped hands and made their silent requests.

  After they finished, they listened for awhile through the darkness in Sebastian’s room. They heard the rasping of the branches against the window panes and a deep howling wind. They heard the sound of their own breathing, the rumble of Jennifer’s stomach, and the creaking of the bed springs when Dean shifted on his side. It was cold and it was late, and before too long it became more than apparent that for the moment there would be no sign.

  A few minutes later, Dean and Jennifer left Sebastian’s room and returned to their own beds.

  Gabi showed up at the house late one afternoon. She’d been out of town for a few days, and was anxious to check on how her sister was doing. She called daily while away, and Dean was honest with her as he couldn’t be with Lola. He told her that Gloria hadn’t been out of bed for days. He brought food up to the room, but she ate very little, and refused to see a doctor. Every time Dean suggested it she replied that she had no need for doctors.

  Gabi climbed the stairs with her heart in her throat. She remembered the profound depression Gloria had suffered after Sebastian was born and knew that now it had to be even worse. What’s more, Dean confided that finances were tight and they were in danger of losing the house. Gabi wished she could help out somehow, but her modest salary was barely enough to meet her own obligations.

  When Gabi entered the room it was dark, and a dank sour odor assaulted her nostrils. She went straight to the window and opened the blinds, which caused Gloria to groan and cover her eyes. “Dean I told you I want the windows to stay closed,” she muttered.

  “It’s not Dean,” Gabi said.

  Gloria cracked open one eye just wide enough to see her sister standing over her. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I wanted to see you. I haven’t been by for awhile because I was out of town.”

  “I didn’t notice,” Gloria said, and she turned away so she wouldn’t have to look at her sister’s fresh face. It pained her to know that people were getting on with their lives as though the death of her son didn’t matter. It made her feel angry too, but she didn’t have the energy to indulge in anger anymore, and she resented those people and circumstances that forced her to feel anything at all.

  Gabi walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down facing her sister. “You can’t go on like this. You have to get up and take a shower at least. I’ll help you.”

  “I don’t want your help,” Gloria muttered. “I just want you to leave me alone.”

  “I can’t do that,” Gabi replied.

  “It’s easy. Just stand up, and walk away.”

  “If I stand up and w
alk away, it’ll be to call an ambulance.”

  “No,” Gloria said, shaking her head and feeling that horrible agony rising like bile in her throat. “Don’t do that. I beg of you Gabi, don’t call an ambulance.”

  “Then let me help you to the shower. You’ll feel better Gloria. I swear you will.”

  “I’ll feel clean, but I won’t feel better,” Gloria returned. “I’ll never feel better.”

  “Let’s take it one step at a time, then. Clean and miserable is better than foul and miserable.”

  “I can’t,” Gloria mumbled.

  “Yes you can.”

  Gloria thought about it for a moment and then softly said, “I won’t.”

  Gabi gazed at her sister’s face, her sunken cheeks and hollow eyes. The time for persuasion had passed, and she knew that if she didn’t take action there would soon be another death in the family.

  “Okay, have it your way,” Gabi said as she stood up to leave the room.

  Gloria lifted her head. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand by and watch my sister rot to death in her own bed.”

  “Don’t you dare call anyone.”

  “Just try and stop me,” Gabi said and she walked out of the room without looking back. She was half way down the stairs when she heard Gloria wailing.

  “I’ll take a shower, damn you! I’ll take a fucking shower!”

  Gabi went back upstairs, and helped her grumbling foul smelling, foul mouthed sister out of bed and into the shower. Afterward, Gloria changed into a fresh pair of pajamas and Gabi insisted that she sit in the chair for awhile instead of getting back into bed right away.

  Gabi had news that she wasn’t quite sure how to impart, but she hoped that it would be good for Gloria to hear it, that it might pull her a few inches out of the dark hole she’d fallen into.

  “You feel better now don’t you?” Gabi asked.

  Gloria shrugged. “I guess, but I won’t be able to sit for very much longer.”

  “Just a few minutes longer, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  Gloria lifted her chin to look into her sister’s bright eyes.

  “Terrence and I are getting married in a few weeks,” Gabi said.

  “Why so soon? Can’t you wait until…” Gloria was going to say ‘until this great sadness has passed’, but she realized she would be asking her sister to wait for a very long time, maybe forever.

  “We would wait awhile longer if we could,” Gabi returned. “But I’m pregnant and we think it’s best to not to put it off.”

  Gloria nodded bleakly. “How far along are you?”

  “Three months last week.”

  “Does Ma know?”

  “Everybody knows,” Gabi said. “But I wanted to give it a little more time before I told you about it. I don’t know why, I…I just thought it would make things more difficult for you.”

  Gloria nodded again. A part of her wanted to wish her sister well, to say all the things she knew she should say, but knowing that her words would sound as hollow as she felt, she chose to remain silent.

  “We found out this morning that we’re having a boy,” Gabi continued. “Terrence and I talked about it and we want to name him Sebastian.”

  Something deep inside Gloria’s chest shifted at the sound of her boy’s name, and she felt a fresh wave of emotion come over her. She brought her hands to her face and wept, but it felt good to weep, and so much better than the vast desert of exhausted agony she’d been wandering in for so many days. She allowed Gabi to embrace her, and after a few seconds, Gloria slowly lifted her heavy hands up from her lap, and returned the embrace.

  Gabi left with some encouraging words for Dean and Jennifer. They were glad to know that although Gloria was back in bed, she’d been persuaded to take a shower and spend some time sitting in a chair rather than lying flat on her back. She’d promised to eat a little bit more, and she seemed genuinely touched about the news of the baby and their decision to name him Sebastian. Dean and Jennifer were grateful for Gabi’s help and asked her to return in a couple of days if she could, and to bring Terrence with her.

  A couple of hours later, just as Dean was preparing a sandwich to take upstairs, there was knock at the door and he opened it to find Mando standing on the threshold holding a large casserole dish. Beyond him, he saw Susan sitting in the car staring straight ahead. She turned her head for an instant and waved when she saw Dean. Dean waved back, wondering if he should invite her in.

  Noticing his brother in law’s anxiety, Mando said, “Don’t worry about Susan. I certainly don’t expect Gloria to bury the hatchet now. Besides, even if she got on her hands and knees and begged, Susan wouldn’t step foot out of the car. They’re both as stubborn as hell.”

  Dean nodded, relieved that his brother in law understood, and led the way into the kitchen. Mando placed the casserole dish on the counter, and said, “Susan isn’t the most brilliant cook in the world, but I think everyone will like this.”

  Dean detected the familiar spices and although he hadn’t had much of an appetite himself lately, his mouth started to water. Then he lifted the lid and smiled. “Mofongo,” he whispered. “Thank you Mando, and please thank Susan for me.”

  “Yes of course,” Mando said giving his brother in law a reassuring pat on the back. He noticed that Dean had lost a few pounds, and that his blue eyes appeared almost gray. “If you need anything from us, anything at all, just ask.”

  Dean nodded, and smiled. No doubt Mando had heard they were experiencing financial difficulties again. But Dean knew that Gloria would never accept their help. She’d give up the house and everything they had before going back on the promise she’d made to herself all those years ago.

  After Mando left, Dean reheated the Mofongo in the oven for a few minutes and served up a small plate to take upstairs. Gloria was sitting up in bed, gazing out the window, her eyes half closed. Thin as she was, and with her hair loose about her shoulders, she looked almost like a teen aged girl, and Dean gazed at her for a moment, lost in a fog of memories and regrets.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he said as he walked forward with the tray.

  He placed the plate of Mofongo on Gloria’s lap, and she stared at it. “Where did this come from?” she asked.

  Dean cocked his head coyly. “From the kitchen where else?”

  “Don’t play games with me, Dean. I heard Mando downstairs.” She looked up at her husband with smoldering eyes. “Did Susan make this?”

  Dean didn’t reply, but his guilty expression was enough to betray him.

  Gloria pushed the tray away. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Gloria, it’s not going to kill you if…”

  “I said, I’m not hungry. Take this and all the rest of it and throw it in the garbage where it belongs.”

  Without another word, Dean took the tray back downstairs to the kitchen. He took two plates out of the cupboard and served a generous portion for Jennifer who had just entered the kitchen and another for himself. They ate together in silence remembering the last time they’d enjoyed a delicious meal of Mofongo.

  The next day Gloria got out of bed, got dressed and told Dean that she needed him to take her somewhere. He tried not to ask too many questions as they climbed into his jeep, for fear that it might put her off. As they drove across town, he assumed that she wanted to visit Sebastian’s grave, but when they approached his school, Gloria instructed her husband to stop and park the car.

  “You want me to stop here?”

  “I want to show you something,” Gloria said.

  Dean was apprehensive. “Do you really think this is a good idea Gloria? You’re doing so much better today.”

  “Please Dean, I need to do this.”

  Gloria led him through the corridors of the school toward the playground. The children were still in their classrooms and the field and the playground were empty. Gloria crossed the playground and stood before the field, gazing s
ilently ahead for some time. It seemed like just yesterday she was here, and that her son was alive and running across the field as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Could it have all been a strange and horrible dream? Might it be possible to lift the veil of time and find her son waiting for her on the other side? It seemed absurd, yet it was the most hopeful she’d felt in months.

  “Is this where it happened?” Dean finally asked. He had some idea about how Sebastian died, but Gloria hadn’t been able to tell him very much about it because every time she tried, she broke down and was unable to finish.

  Gloria nodded, and then stepped onto the field walking over the grass as though it were holy ground. Dean stayed close, worried about what would happen next.

  “I didn’t recognize him at first,” Gloria said. “And when I called out to him, he didn’t hear me. Or if he did, he didn’t care. And then I started to run after him, but I had no idea he could run so fast.”

  She was walking briskly now, following the path that Sebastian had taken. “And right here,” she said standing a few feet from the goal line, “This is where he fell.” She knelt on the spot where her son had died and Dean knelt beside her.

  At that moment, a loud bell rang startling them both. Countless children spilled out of their classrooms, eager for their morning recess. The air became filled with the happy clamoring voices of children laughing, and hollering out to each other as they organized themselves for play. Some went to the playground equipment and several ran toward the field where Gloria and Dean were still kneeling. The children became confused when they saw two adults on their soccer field, so Dean helped Gloria to her feet and they walked off the field. He spotted a lone bench beneath a willow tree not too far away, and they sat on the bench and watched as some of the children organized themselves around the tetherball courts nearby, lying on the ground and playing with their feet instead of their fists. They’d been watching this unusual game for some time when Gloria said, “I killed him. I killed our little man.”