FOR THE BEST
There was no smile from my mother as she poured another glass of lemonade. She had a lot on her mind the baby was coming any day now. I could tell. But still no one came to visit, and she hadn’t even start to knit wool socks for the new addition to the family.
I remembered what it was like when my little sister was born and my feet barely touched the floor at the breakfast table. Grandma’s number was beside the phone for me to call when there was a rush to the hospital. I would walk into the kitchen on a Sunday morning and see my mother and father embracing one another. I walked up to them and stretched my arms out as far as they could go to hold them both as I stood on my tipy-toes.
Now she stayed inside all day as if she was hiding. My father barely looked at her when he came home from work. He gave me a nod and cracked a smile to me, and he would spend the time before suppertime in the woodshed. He would sit on his handmade stool leaning in one direction in the corner while his hands covered his eyes like he was refusing to cry.
During supper I would make these monstrous towers of mash potatoes hoping one of them would raise their voice at me and send me to my room without any desert. My sister would look at me in admiration. I would then begin to tickle her and she would exaggerate her giggles demanding the same attention I was.
“Boy! Take your sister to the front yard and stay away from the river - don’t come in until the sun comes down.” My father scowled then tried to cover it up with a,”please.”
I picked up my sister from the highchair, and started walking outside. My mother stared at us in a trance slightly rocking back and forth with her hands on her belly.
“What’s wrong with momma?” My sister asked.
“Nothing she’s fine,” I said.
We played until the sun went down and the lightening bugs came out. There were more of them tonight then last. I walked up the front porch steps and looked back when I didn’t hear another set of footsteps close behind. My sister was trying to catch one. It was her favorite thing to do at night.
“Got one,” she yelled in excitement.
“Come on. We are supposed to go inside.”
Still holding the lightening bug she started running towards the front door her legs got the best of her as she fell to the ground. She slowly got back up with a concerned look on her face as she opened up her hand. The light that once flew freely in the darkness was now just sticky florescent glue. She looked at me preparing herself for a scolding.
“It’s okay,” I said as I smeared what was left of the flying illumination from her hand.
“Don’t let momma see that you have grass stain on your school dress.” I told her.
We went through the front door my little sister went straight to her room-avoiding momma.
There was a single lamp, behind the sofa where my parents were sitting; showing a silhouette of my parents crouched together on the wall. My father was caressing my mother’s hand staring down at her stomach containing another one of us. My mother was staring at the miniature rocking chair my sister could still sit comfortably in. The phone was off the hook and the busy signal was being ignored.
“It’s for the best,” my father whispered over and over…
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s time for bed,” my father said, “brush your teeth I’ll tuck you in.”
I did what I was told not understanding what was going on with my parents. I stayed in bed staring up at the ceiling waiting for my father. My sister was in the bed next to me, and she was already asleep. My father entered the bedroom and surveyed the two beds holding his creations. He went to the window with the view of the river near our house.
“Papa…Papa are we going fishing this year?” I asked.
He cracked the window so a cool breeze could come in then he sat beside me.
“Yeah. Who loves you boy?" Papa asked rubbing his eyes.
“You, momma, and Jesus.”
He padded me on the chest, went to my sister’s bed and just looked at her as he covered her small body with the sheet. Then he left.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I remember waking up to the shrieks of my mother. Suddenly, there was silence and a set of footsteps creeping down the stairs. I put on my shoes and my robe and tip toed out of my room seeing my father carrying my mother out the front door. I walked softly down the steps to the front door and waited. Staring out the window near the door I saw my mother was holding a rod in her mouth preventing her to scream, and to bite down on. My father carried her to his old rusty tractor. They boarded, my mother on my father’s lap as my father drove away in the direction of the river. I followed occasionally hiding behind a tree out of sight of my father’s eyes.
He stopped at the edge of the river. I stood behind a dying tree watching. My father picked up my mother again, stepped out of the tractor, and entered the river using a tree that was down from the last storm as a guide. My mother’s face was red, her eyes revealed a devastating pain, and her tears rolled off her cheek into the river. My father was talking to my mother rubbing her head, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. My mother spread her legs and pushed. I stood there behind the dying tree hearing my mother grunt and moan as she pushed for the longest time. My father held her against the tree that was disconnected from the ground. The newborn package, finally, came unwillingly.
I started to come out of my hiding place to see my new baby brother or sister. My walk became petrified, when my father took the creation with both hands and shoved it under the water. I remained frozen. They still didn’t see me.
My mother took both fist and started hitting my father shrieking, “ No… Don’t! Don’t!”
The determined look on my father’s face ignored my mother’s pleas his elbows were still locked. Then he let his hands up and started crying as one of us drifted away with the current.