"I already told you, he was the love of my life" she pulled her hand to her chest and stared at him. He looked back at her, she knew that wasn't the answer he wanted, a knot twisted in her stomach.
"I know that, but who is he? What was he like? What was his name?" He wiped his eyes "what happened to him?" She held his hand and stroked his knuckles, her breath started to shake. I can't push it away for much longer can I? She asked herself and nodded.
"Follow me" she softly tugged him up to her office, "sit" she pointed to her fluffy rug. She went to the shelf and looked through her binders, she hummed and came down to sit in front of him. "He met me at the perfect moment, I didn't really know what I wanted to achieve in life. It was a brief meeting, he was spying on me and my friends while we were camping." She opened her binder and stroked the once stolen doodles and poems "he helped inspire me to finish so I could see him. He was a silent fellow, I did most of the talking." She handed her son a piece of paper with sloppy handwriting "he was wonderful with words though."
He tilted his head and tried his best to read the paper "what does this even say?" After closer inspection, he could see a "c" and a "u" but was still confused about what he was reading.
"It says" she pointed to the words "Mireya, the tosties- what he called tostones at the time- was amazing, I wanted to thank you with cuddles and that movie you like. And we did, he didn't write many notes only when I was asleep. He didn't like waking me up so he'd leave a note before running off into the woods or going to sleep himself." She tucked the note back into its sleeve. She hugged the binder to her chest and rested her chin on the edge, it was like she could feel his arms wrap around her again. She closed her eyes and a tear raced down her cheek. "If I remember correctly he would pose for my paintings and photography. He adored my cooking, he adored my art" she softly choked. "He adored me."
"What did he like to do?" He crossed his legs and leaned in more.
"Birds, he liked watching birds. He would use my Polaroid and take pictures of birds all the time. He even got the one of a deer" she hands over the polaroid, he inspects the picture and smiles. A doe with her fawn looking at the camera.
He stroked the picture and stared at the details. He could just imagine his father, a huge man crouching down in the forest waiting for hours for the perfect moment to take a picture. He probably looked strange like that, and he would gladly sit beside him waiting for the right moment as well. "I bet he was really happy with this one" he handed the picture back.
"He also loved to take care of the dogs, and I got him to read a little. He loved fantasy the most, that whole lower shelf were his books." She stops talking as she notices her son staring at her. "You just care if I have a picture of him or not" he nods and she sighs "typical. I was trying to be special here." She chuckled and flipped the pages, she hummed and kept flipping. "Ah here."
It was torn from a larger sheet of paper, the back painted over. He looked at the bald child, he leaned down looking at his sloping eye. He smiled at the camera and that made Miracle smile. "He had a malformation since birth. But to me, he was still handsome. You got his nose and big forehead" she chuckles as the boy squeaks a no. "Yes you do, look at my nose, it's smaller and a bit flatter. His is way more pronounced and stuck out more, like a Roman nose. You have his Roman nose." She grabbed a mirror from her desk and held it up to the boy "Just turn your head a little" she grabbed his chin and guided him. "There, see? Identical. You two are twins." He started seeing the resemblance, a lot of things matched, even the cleft lip.
He looked up at his mother, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. She broke down against his shoulder and he followed her cries soon after. Even though it's been almost a decade, the wound still burns fresh in her heart. He missed the man, he felt the connection just by seeing the photo "papá" he whimpered against her and she shushed him. Rocking back and forth softly humming as they shared their grief. She slowly pulled away and wiped his tears, he could feel the love through her fingers as she stroked his face. "How did he die? I want to know." He watched his mother take a deep breath before nodding, he needed to know.
"I don't remember much, we were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Gunshots rang, police lights and sirens everywhere. I was trying to tell him I was pregnant but he was more concerned about getting me to safety. We shared one last kiss and he ran into the woods, he lead them away from me." The blurry memories flooded her head, she wiped her nose "oh dear god. And they shot him, so so many times they shot him. I ran to safety, I didn't even get to see his body and say one last goodbye." She gripped the fluffy rug and let out a guttural roar, Miracle scrambled back terrified at the unfamiliar noise. "Those bastards took him away from me! The only man that understood me and those pigs took him away! He wasn't hurting anyone when he was with me I could control him!" Her yelling was cut off by sobs and she crumbles to the ground "he was fine…" a whimper crept out of her lips. Miracle hesitantly crawled to her, a shaking ball on the floor, and slowly put his hand on her back. She jumped at the touch causing him to yelp, with every ounce of bravery he stroked her back again and she accepted the affection.
"Ma, can I ask you one last thing?" She slowly pealed herself from the floor and gave him a nod. He cringed at her snot bubble and grabbed a tissue off the desk. "Can you show me paintings you made of him?" She blew her nose and nodded. Standing up on shaky legs she stepped into the hallway and pulled down the stairs to the attic, the screaming creaks made him and the dogs hide behind her. Stay here she signed and he nodded; curiously, his fingers went to his throat and he wonder how raw she sobbed for her to not be able to talk anymore. He watched her go up the stairs and listen as she moved around, unzipping portfolios and checking inside before moving on to the next. He bounced on his heels as energy rushed through his body, soon excitement and anticipation.
"Found it" she stepped down with a large black portfolio on her shoulder "careful it's heavy." He almost drops it onto his feet "told you." They share a giggle and walked back to the office, "some of these I can't show you sweetie so have this one." She pulled out a 16 by 18 canvas about to hand it to him but he snatches it. He stared at the blue and gray painting "I was doing a monochrome study, had him sit at my desk with my old glasses and the only light in the room was the desk light. I made sure it got on my favorite side of his face. I enjoyed painting the details." The boy pointed to the spotty beard.
"What was his beard color? Canna see?" The woman felt her face get hot at that question, "what?"
"I don't think you'd ever want to see that painting," she giggled. "It's more of a personal mommy and daddy painting. You'll understand when you're older. I do have a painting of him laying with the dogs, you don't see his face but his hair."
He held that painting and looked at it closely. The large man dwarfed the pile of dogs on him, they all looked like puppies. Even Precious looks tiny with him he smiled as he looked towards the man's head and saw a tuft of pumpkin orange hair sticking out from under a dog. "He iza redhead?" Mireya nodded, "ain't red hair rare?" She nods again.
"You had red hair when you were first born. But it darkened after the first month." She pulled a sketchbook from the portfolio and flipped through its pages, she rotated the book around "see right here? You were a pinky shriveled up alien with red hair" she chuckled. He grimaced at the drawing of a newborn sucking on his fingers, barely keeping an eye open, and still covered in vernix. Mireya couldn't hold back the giggle at his reaction "to me you were adorable. Your nickname was chicle for a while, your abuelo gave it to you."
"Gum? Seriously?" That made him smile.
"To him, you looked like gum, and I tend to agree." She closed the book and tucked it back into the portfolio. Her smile drooped "I know," she softly sighed "he would've adored you. We've talked about kids briefly if I remember correctly, it was after we babysat your godsister Penelope. He was very gentle and patient with her" she lightly bit her knuckle. It wasn't just that he was gentle, but they were having a lot of unprotected fun and Jason knew what could happen. But his actions were intentional, even the thought now made her heart race. "I trusted him with my life and any children we brought into the world."
He handed the painting back and she tucked it away, he noted her hollow eyes deciding now should be a good stopping point. He slipped into his mother's arms and held her, closing his eyes he started creating memories with his father, and maybe teaching him how to fish or make a fire? Perhaps he would've helped him ride a bike or help with his homework when mom was too tired. The thought of never knowing gave him a sinking feeling in his chest that made his legs numb. She petted his locks and played with his coils, wrapping them around her finger. She wanted to hang on longer but Miracle started to twitch and fidget, she slowly let go and watched him leave the office. Slumping back into her desk chair she broke down once again.
"Hey Leraine, glad you could come by." Mireya stepped aside to let the woman and child in, "how was the sermon?"
"Oh it was lovely, but woo that heat finna kill me. Ay, Miracle, can I get some lemonade? Thank ya lots" she fans herself and sits on the couch. Aniyah in tow, clapping her hands and Miracle gives her a glass of raspberry lemonade. "Two hands Ni" the little girl nodded and gripped the glass tight. They hummed as they tasted the sweet drink, Leraine laid her feather-covered hat on the table. "Niyah go play, adults talking." Aniyah set down her empty glass and ran to the backyard with Miracle.
Mireya sat in the love seat stiff as a statue, Leraine set her cup down and crossed her legs. She opened her mouth to say something but was cut off immediately. "I told Miracle what happened to his father, he seemed to have taken it well but I'm not sure. Did I do the wrong thing?" The words came out jumbled, messy, and barely understandable like she tried to get the message out as quickly as possible.
"Miss ma'am" Leraine rubbed her temples "run that by me again, slower thou." Mireya took a breath.
"I told Miracle about his father, the details surrounding his death" breath in, and out "and I needed to know" she bit her knuckle. "If it was the right choice. I know you were in the education system for like 30 years, is it an appropriate time to tell an eight-year-old this?" She seemed cold with how much she rubbed her hands together. Leraine took another long sip from her glass, hummed, nodded, looked at Mireya up and down, and hummed again.
"He gonna ask questions about i' more, y'know the what is death, um where did daddy go and stuff like that." She pulled her handkerchief out of her jacket pocket and wiped her mouth. "You agnostic right?"
"For the most part." She was not in the mood to explain a ghost of her lover's mother following her around. She'd look off her rocker.
"Pretend I'm the boy. Momma, what is dead?" Mireya closed her eyes and bit her lip to try and not laugh.
"Heh- don't look at me" she coughed and gained her composure. "Well sweetie, death is like a broken toy. You know how sometimes toys get so old you can't play with them anymore? Or when they are too broken to be fixed. Like a Barbie being melted, that can't be fixed but the head popping off can." She fidgeted with her shorts and crossed her legs.
"That's a pretty good job," Leraine slipped into her professional tone "you avoided what I like to call doom phrases like resting, forever sleep, or gone away. Since kids, especially autistic kids, struggle with understanding euphemisms. Saying sleeping forever makes kids scared to fall asleep cause they think they're going to die." She rested her chin on her interlocked fingers "Using that toy example is good, it explains death in a good way from old age or other means but also shows not every injury that leads to the hospital will mean death."
"I had eight years to think of it, can't let it go to waste now" she gave a quick chuckle. "Also like the teacher's voice, it suits you."
"Oh hush chile" she whipped her fan open and fanned herself. They shared a giggle. "Wonder what the youngins are up to."
Miracle set the bag of marshmallows down and hid in the bush with Aniyah. "If we stay really quiet he will come and take the mallows" he got as low as he could to the ground giggling. Aniyah looked out at the bag of sugar and waited, who was this mysterious man he wanted her to meet? Why was he attracted by sugar? Her thoughts were snuffed when they heard the crunching and thuds in the leaves and fallen sticks. A large man, a giant, stepped into view. His heavy steps shook the ground as his foot touched the bag, he looked down and picked them up. He dropped his rusted ax onto the forest floor and ripped the bag open.
"Hey Tree!" The man jumped and almost dropped the bag, he gave a curt nod to the boy as he walked over. He offered the bag to him "no those for you! I wanned you to meet someone, c'mon Ani!" The bush softly rustled as the little girl stepped out, the man looked between the two "she's my friend."
"Best friend" she corrected and grabbed onto his arm, "whats y'name?" The man responded in sign, but the little girl could only tilt her head.
"Tree, he said Tree. He can't talk" he turned to the man "Tree iza zombie, got bugs and everythang." This made the girl shiver and hide behind him as the man lifted his mask to eat a marshmallow.
"But zombies, but zombies, they eat brains. He no eat brains but marshies!" The man slumps down on the ground and she yelps.
"Hesa nice zombie Ani, look he is just eating away. He won't hurt ya." The man even nodded and offered the bag, the little girl hesitantly reached in and pulled one out. The sugar calms her nerves enough for her to sit with the man and Miracle.
"It is a near identical match" muttered as she looked at the DNA sequences. It left her with more questions though, but she thinks she knows who to ask. Was John doe a twin?
