Hey, just as a side note I had Mal at about eleven or twelve years old in this, since I don't know how old he was when Jacob was arrested (Late teens I thought?) but I figured I'd upload anyways. Does anyone know his actual age?
As usual, I was riding my bike home from school. My older sister was following behind me, looking annoyed over the fact that our mom said she had to make sure I was home before she could go off with her friends. We both thought this was stupid, but didn't argue since dad said it was to dangerous for a child to walk the streets alone. My sister sped off as soon as I cleared the driveway, and I pulled bike my into the grass. I walked in the door, my backpack slung over my shoulder.
"Mom, I'm home!" I called, tossing my backpack on a nearby chair. There was no response, my house appeared to be empty. "Mom?" I called again. My moms pocketbook was on the table, her car keys were gone. It appeared she had left in a hurry, but I gave no thought to it. I wrote her a quick note saying I was going to baseball practice, and that I wouldn't be home for dinner. Making sure to lock the door she had forgotten behind me, I got back on my bike. I was confused, my mom always took me to baseball practice. Why would she stop now? I knew she would scold me later for going without her, but I would suffer the punishment of running bases if I was late. I only got there just in time, and wasn't able to concentrate the whole practice. I kept looking up at the stands, where my mother often sat and watched the first part of practice, and all I saw was the empty seats.
"Eyes on the ball, Fallon!" my coach yelled as someone pitched a ball right at me. I was too late. I hit it, but it only went a short distance and it made my hands sting. "Nothing up there's gonna help you!". I forgot about my mothers absence after a while, and was able to finish practice normally. As was the norm, I waited by the stands for my dad to come. I propped my bike next to me, hoping my dad wouldn't be to angry about having to stuff it in the trunk of his car. An hour passed. It was starting to get dark.
"Need a ride Mal?" Charley, my teammate who's mother was always late to pick him up, asked.
"Nah, I'll ride my bike home" I said. It took me over a half and hour to get home, and when I did I walked in on my sister sitting on the stairs and straining to listen to something. I heard the faint sounds of someone weeping, a woman. At my entrance my sister pressed a finger to her lips, signaling me to be quiet.
"Where's dad?" I asked. My dad was almost always home after I came back from practice.
"Go to bed Mal" my sister hissed.
"Where's mom?"
"Go to bed Mal!" she said again.
"But I didn't have dinner yet!" I protested.
"Just go to bed" she hissed. Her face was serious. I listened to my sister, treading lightly up the stairs and into my bedroom. As I fell asleep, I could slowly hear the sounds of a weeping woman grow softer.
The next morning I ran down the stairs as usual, the smell of something burning filling the house. I walked to the kitchen, finding my mother looking out the window, fiddling with her wedding ring. A frying pan filled with eggs was burning beside her, clearly unnoticed.
"Mom" I said. She first looked at me, then to the pan. She shut off the heat and shoved the charred eggs aside to another cooler burner.
"I'm so sorry Malachi!" she said quickly.
Rather taken back by her sudden apology, I answered "It's fine, I'll just have cereal instead". I grabbed the box of corn puffs, a bowl and spoon from the closet, obtaining milk from the fridge. As I poured the cereal several corn puffs flew out of the bowl, dropping on the table. My mother sighed when she saw this.
"Sorry, mom" I said, starting to pick of the corn puffs.
"I got it. Just eat or you'll be late for school" she said, already picking each one up and placing it in her palm. Then something caught my eye. My dad's coffee mug wasn't in the sink, it was on the drying rack from yesterday. My dad had coffee every morning, what had changed?
"Where's dad?" I asked.
"Huh?" she said.
"Dad's not here. He didn't have his coffee this morning" I pointed out.
My mother cleared her throat before she said "Dad's not going to live here now".
"What do you mean?" I asked, shoving cereal in my mouth.
She placed the last corn puff into her hand. "I mean it's just going to be you, your sister and I for a while" she said hoarsely.
"For how long?" I asked. I noticed my mothers hand was curled up in a fist. She seemed to realize what she was doing and opened her palm. The corn puffs were reduced to a fine powder, and she walked over the the garbage and dumped the powder into the garbage.
"I don't know" she said "But we'll be fine. I promise".
"Is he coming to my game today?" I asked.
My mother froze. "No" she said eventually "But I will".
I was slightly taken back. Since when had my mother shown any particular interest in me playing baseball? That was more so something dad and I did, not her and I. She probably couldn't have even told me what position I played. Still, I didn't question it when I said "okay".