CHAPTER SEVEN - PAIN AND GRIEF

KALEO

Having known as the home to the blues and rock 'n' roll, Memphis also could've been the home to colors. 

Most of it hadn't changed in the past years, most especially the shops that lined at the corner of the streets. 

The Memphis sign beamed in its colors as I drove along the tarred roads, feeding my eyes around the famous city. 

After sixteen hours, I had come to realize my aching feet and no matter how many food stops I had made, I still craved for real food. 

My left hand around the steering wheel, I held unto my phone with my right hand

-open to the page of my mother's line. 

I had scrolled past her inactive Facebook page before I tried to dial her number. 

"Hey mom, I'm on my way home" I said to myself as I threw the phone in exhaustion. 

As I was beheld with another option, my eyes widened as I grabbed the phone. 

"Grandma" I said as I dialed her number. 

I slowed down the car before it rang straight to voicemail. 

"Shit" I cursed as I brought my head to collide with the steering wheel. 

I couldn't just show up on her porch asking of my mother and a piece of me wondered that moment if this was really a good idea. 

A piece of me wanted me to turn the car around and a piece of me already gave up on family. 

All I had just wanted to do was to tell her she was going to be a grandma, to tell her that I was expecting. 

But maybe that was a lame excuse for seeing her after these past years, a lame excuse for returning all her missed calls. 

A lame excuse to see her-

-so I shoved that pessimistic piece of me before I pulled away from the roadside. 

Me: Mom? 

****

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO 

Months had already passed and his injury was a lame excuse for even being around the house. 

And the more time that flew by, the more guilt had overcome my mother's judgement. 

She often felt she owed it to him to watch him get better

-to help him get better. 

"I'm not a monster. I'm not the slut. I'm not the cunt. I'm not the failure" She yelled, as she consecutively hit him across the face. 

There was no day that passed that I wasn't reminded of the horror I had faced that day 

"I'm done hiding, Albert" She said as she exhaled, looking back at his bloody body. 

"Call 911" She had yelled across the room as she placed her head, in search of his frail heartbeat.

-the day he almost died. 

~

Most of the time he just laid there had me feeling all manners of disgust. 

After all he put us through, we still took care of him

-she, still took care of him. 

"Mir" He yelled across the room, drifting my attention to where he laid. 

Effortlessly holding a glass in his hands, he made no attempt to sit as he repeatedly called out for Miranda. 

Looking to the kitchen for mum and then back at him, I just had to rush to the fridge to grab him a bottle. 

Holding unto the bottle, I walked over to him before I heard a slight thumping on the stairs. 

"Mom?" I called doubtfully as I held unto his glass before pouring out the water. 

Before suddenly he plunged the gas into the air, forcing the water to spill over me. 

"Kaleo" Mother immediately called before pulling me aside. 

"What was that?" She wimply yelled. 

"I don't need cold water. You're trying to kill me?" He raised his voice and I scoffed. 

"Even when you're helpless, you're still a son of a bi-" 

"Language" My mother's voice rose as she released her grip from my arms. 

Throwing him another look into his flatulent eyes, I walked back to the table surrendering to my anger.

Pulling out my diary and a pen, I surrendered to the rage that had built in me. 

'Dad's a pain in my ass' 

****

THE PRESENT

Forty-five minutes of roaming around the colorful streets of Memphis didn't come with no price as my fuel tank struck empty. 

"Where the hell can I get a gas station?" I yelled to myself, hitting the steering wheel. 

The next thing my eyes caught after seeing the clock had struck an hour past midnight was the blatant lighting around the bold words that hung on a small sized billboard-

-lady-lad. 

"Lady-lad?" I called doubtfully as I slowed down before turning unto the next street. 

Though duller and quite frankly, scarier, I continued my journey at a slower pace as I recognized my surroundings. 

"Pups?" I instantly called out the names of my favorite places while growing up. 

But immediately it was time for me to turn unto the street, I stared back at my phone, exhausted of the long days journey

-and yet all I wanted more than just to rest my leg in proper pedicural fashion was to meet my mother after years. 

But immediately halting that urge was the most untimely succumbing of my car to an empty gas tank. 

"Shoot" I exclaimed as the car moved jerkily before it finally halted. 

"At least I'm finally home" I optimistically said as I grabbed a few bags before locking up the car. 

'Well I hope they don't burgle here like before'

I mentally said as I staggered on the streets like a drunken walker-of-shame. 

****

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO 

Dear diary, am I a bad person for wishing my father dead? 

Do I seem horrible for wishing that the world could at least be fair? That he would would get what he deserves? 

Though when I write it like this, it does seem like. 

Most of these days, you are more than just my confidante, and I feel like I'm loosing my mother to this cheap, angry bastard. 

Do I sound selfish? After all all we get is his constant yelling and nagging and abuse. 

"Why do you keep doing this?" I asked her and she paused to look back at me. 

"Doing what?" She softly asked. 

"Why are you selfless? Helping him without even listening to him-" 

"-his abuses and screams. Don't you feel you deserve a break?" I asked and she smiled. 

"Asides from fulfilling those vows I made when I married him, I'm the reason he's like tha-" 

"You can't keep blaming yourself!" I yelled. 

"I do it because he's my husband and your father with a little bit of empathy I still have for the man he was before" She said as she turned away to her cooking. 

Am I horrible for not feeling any empathy?

Dear Diary, am I? 

****

THE PRESENT

Fidgeting, I managed to gorge upon the tips of my fingernails as I stood just below the high porch that led to the door. 

Most of the paintings had washed off on the walls and I noticed the rusty roofs with my torchlight. 

The only thing I couldn't bring myself to do was to knock on that door. 

A little piece of me feared that the next moment of my life was seemingly going to change my life forever. 

My bags already rested against the stairs as I still held my phone in my hands, meaninglessly dialed to my mother's page. 

One click was all it was going to take to get the call through. 

I just had to bring myself to do it. 

But it was as soon as I reached for dusty flower leaves, I was a beckoned with the best of my childhood moments. 

"You're like this flower. Delicate. Precious" 

"Let this be our spot. The place we tell each other things and w-" 

And between those fragments, I saw myself standing atop the wooden portico-

-I saw myself being happy. 

And it was when I got lost, probably unconsciously holding unto my belly that I accidentally knocked over the vase. 

It was my gasp that sounded before the graceful shatters scattered around the ground, alerting the neighborhood. 

But alas as I wiped my tears, a smile walked its way to my lips as I rushed to the door. 

It wasn't until I heard approaching footsteps that the dim light of the porch came on. 

And it all hit slow motion when the lock slid out of place and the door shifted away. 

I smothered my skirt with my palms as I awaited her glorious appearance. 

Before-

"Grandma?" I exclaimed. 

~

"Kaleo, where have you been?" She asked as she struggled to withhold her emotions. 

"I can't believe it. You're here. It's you. After all these years" She whispered. 

"Grandma, you do-" 

"Kaleo" She called as she sat up, reaching for a strand of my hair. 

"You've changed" She quickly said. 

"Your hair, it's red" She added. 

"It's ruby" I said as I reached for her hands. 

"I've missed you, K" She said with frailty and I nodded, resting my head on her aging palms. 

"Not as much as I did. You and mom" I said and there was something that made her turn away. 

"Where's she? By the way" I asked as she pulled away. 

"Kaleo" She softly said. 

"Is she away? Psychological break? Did she uhmm..." I asked as I swallowed a lump down my throat. 

"It's late. Very late. We could use some sleep" She said as she stood to leave. 

Holding her arms, I stood too, tall enough to look into her moist eyes

-to know she was hiding something. 

"Grandma where's mom?" I asked as my teeth gnashed impatiently. 

If there's anything you needed to know about grandma, it was that her silence was a thousand words

-it was never good. 

"Grandma" I didn't even know when I raised my voice. 

"Miranda's dead" She said before she heaved a deep breath. 

"Ohh" I exclaimed as I fell back into the chair. 

"Oh my God" I exclaimed as I shook my head in denial. 

"No. No-" 

"Kaleo, stop! It's been weeks, we tried reachin- I tried reaching you" She said. 

"Before then, she needed you. We did but there was no way" She wailed. 

"Why?" I yelled before she sat back, holding my arms back. 

"I thought you knew, somehow and you came" She said as I struggled with her grip. 

"Just stop, Kaleo" She said, holding in her tears as she pulled me into her. 

"It's okay. It's okay" She whispered. 

"Mom!" I repeatedly yelled as I held unto her woolen fabric tightly. 

"She's alright" She consoled repeatedly, her arms around my neck.

****

Loss, the inevitable absence of something or someone at an instant. 

How do you deal with loss? What is the easiest way to grieve? 

The estimated time? 

And even though I knew I was far from my okay, I was still quick to refuel my car so as immediately the sun rose, I started yet another journey. 

The remaining hours of the morning was rough, tissue packs after another and totally sleepless on my side. 

My eyes sour from the tears and my back ached from the constant weeping. 

Yet I managed to embark on another fifteen hour journey back home, writing nothing but a simply goodbye letter. 

Even though I expected a sort of turmoil from the trip, I certainly didn't expect this.

'you could see me as a horrible person for not even saying a goodbye. For doing to same thing I did years ago. 

But I admit on my side, I'm still doing the same, running away and I knew you'd stop me. It's all I do, always

-rather than fighting, I run. 

But I do hope I get to see again, soon. 

I don't know when I'd get over this, but I could some help. Call me'

Kaleo.x

~

The car was dead silent and the roads, quite the opposite. 

Too emotionally unstable, I knew I wasn't even fit to drive but I also knew, the sooner I made it out of Memphis, I could just let go

- to forget all about it, like I did years ago. 

So when I crossed out Memphis, seeing the exact sign that beamed with colors late that night as it now seemed dull. 

I realized I was stuck with this. 

On my phone, was the only picture I had of both of us and each time, I looked back to see her smile, one more time. 

Because I knew I would never see it again, I would never feel her warmth, I would never hear her voice, or be in her arms, listening to her heartbeat. 

A tear slipped down my pale cheeks as I held the steering wheel in a tight clasp as I drove underneath the border sign. 

Time that day seemed so slow as I drove back to Miami, I had seen morning, afternoon and the evening until I realized I hadn't eaten, I hadn't slept. 

I was too depressed and angry, mostly at myself for pushing her away. 

I looked back at my phone, waiting for grandma to call, to care but she didn't. 

But it wasn't long as I looked back at the picture that I sighted her

-forming as fragments from my imagination. 

And for that moment, I didn't seem to care about anything as she flashed a smile from the pavement. 

"Mum?" I called and all she did, was smile. 

That's all she did, she bottled up the pain and the grief, even after dad-

-she still smiled the widest. 

It took me long enough to realize the steering wheel slipped out of my firm grip. 

But when I did was it was when I sighted an oncoming vehicle capriciously swerving from a junction. 

It was as if, time slowed down before she collided into the left side of the car, urging the car to screech towards the fence of a house

-fragments of glass and smoke precipitated in the air as my head rested unmovable on the steering wheel. 

My eyes remained open with frailty as I sighted the picture now, on a cracked screen. 

It wasn't long till I realized blood dripping down my face and the smoke that emitted from the car. 

"Get her out of there" Someone yelled to drift me away of my subconsciousness. 

"Call 911" 

To be continued...