Until I Answer

Until I Answer

The morning started like most bad days start. I overslept, which meant that Simon overslept too, because at 14-years-old, he still managed to only wake up, after I stuck my head in his room and screamed like a rampaging drill sergeant.  Now we both bumbled around the too small apartment snapping at each other for every small offense, until we were finally able to make it out the door. As soon as the car door shut and I slammed the car into reverse, still hoping to catch the 7:38 train, which would still make me late, but might allow me to slide in by 8:30 without too many people noticing, Simon yelled, “wait, I forgot to feed Bonkers.”

“GOD BLESS AMERICA!” I cried, a term I had adapted when he was a baby to avoid ruining his virgin ears with cursing, that had never gone away. “She had no food left in her dish?” I asked, all hopes of making my train draining as fast as the rain I could drumming against the roof.

“No,” Simon said.

“Hurry up,” I said, trying to calm down as I threw the car back in park, knowing that word didn’t exist in this child’s vocabulary.

Ten unbearable minutes later, when Simon strolled back to the car, I peeled out the garage like I was in a drag race, for no reason, since my train was long gone.

“I’ll have to drop you at Avalon today, because I’m already late and can’t afford to miss the next train,” I said glancing at clock. “Will you be okay walking the rest of the way in the rain?”

“Yeah, mom,” he said, his tone, screaming leave me alone, as he crammed his earbuds into his ear.

I intended to talk to him about a test. I wanted to remind him to be careful coming home. I started to remind him, not to lose his lunch bag or key, but I was still annoyed and knew the grunts I could pull from a sulky still half sleep teenaged boy would not lift my mood in any way, so I turned on the radio and drove the few short blocks in silence, him listening to whatever he called music, me listening to celebrity gossip. By the time, I pulled into a parking spot at the train stop, Simon had dozed off, and I had mellowed out.

I poked him in the chest. He jumped like I had dashed him in the face with cold water. I laughed as he struggled to untangle himself from his earbud cord, shooting me a dirty look as I grinned back at him.

“Bye,” he mumbled, barely looking at me as he reached for the door handle.

 “Do you want the umbrella?” I asked.

“No, it’s just rain,” he said pulling the hoodie up over his head.

“Fine, have a nice day.” I said, my flash of good humor disappearing with his grumpiness.

 “You too,” he grunted.

As I watched him walk away, hoodie pulled up, head bent against the rain, my heart stuttered. Where had the time gone? Tears stung my eyes as an image of him at aged 5, clinging to my hand as we waited for the big kid’s bus leapt into my head, a skinny little kid missing his 2 front teeth. He was still skinny, but tall now, taller than me. It wouldn’t be long before those shoestring arms started to gain muscle. Wouldn’t be long, before the girl’s started coming around. Just yesterday he had mentioned the same little girls name three times in the same day, how long before he admitted that he had his first crush.

As I turned, to get out the car, I noticed his glasses left on the seat, and shook my head.

On the train, I burrowed into my purse then my book bag searching for my phone, and came up empty. For just a second, I considered bolting from the train to go back home and get my phone, sure that if I didn’t have it, disaster would strike. But, I just didn’t have the energy to fight against this day any longer and it was only 8:00am.

As soon as I stepped into my office, the phones started ringing and never stopped. In between the phones and more walk-in customers than I had seen in a while, I didn’t have coffee until 10:00am.

I was sitting at my desk combing through a case file, when my head exploded with a pain so fierce I had to lean forward and hold onto my desk to stop myself from throwing up. I laid there, with my face pressed against the warm wood of my desk, tears inexplicably falling from my eyes. It was 11:00am.

Twenty minutes later, I pulled myself to my feet and stumbled into my boss’s office to tell her I had to leave.

“Go. You look like death,” she said, waving me away. “Oh, they done killed another black boy.”

“God. Where, this time?”

“Right here. The news just broke. I believe it’s in your neck of the woods actually.”

“Shit. I got to go before I throw up on your desk,” I said, barely able to see as I stumbled away.

The train ride home was torture. Every step closer, I felt worse and worse, until I wanted to scream. I must have looked like a drunk as I drove home from the train stop, and prayed that I wouldn’t be stopped. I saw the police cars, 3 of them, with their lights going, no sirens parked in front of my building. I turned my head away, going around the back into the underground garage.

As I walked from my car through the garage, clutching Simon’s glasses my sweaty hands, my legs shook so badly, I didn’t think I could make it. I heard voices in the front foyer and the click of handheld radio, but I didn’t look their way as I climbed the stairs to my apartment, desperate to be inside, safe.

As, I closed the door behind me, someone called my name, but I slammed the door close.

The apartment was dark and stuffy. Simon had forgotten to turn on the air, I thought. Bonkers meowed at me. As I sunk into the chair, she leapt into my lap and nestled, like she did when I was sick. My phone lay on the table. It buzzed as I looked at it and the name Mom popped up on the screen. I didn’t answer. When it stopped I could see I had missed 50 calls and my message tab said I had 100 new messages.

The knock on the door was firm, but not loud. Three quick raps. I didn’t move. A few moments later, it came again. Tears ran down my cheeks, falling off the bottom of my chin, wetting Bonkers fur, but for once she didn’t move.

Someone called my name, a woman, but I couldn’t hear what she said, I wouldn’t.

The apartment was empty, deserted, lifeless, but until I answered, he could still be alive.