“Winston?”
‘Yes Mother?”
“ I need you to take me to Bingo on Thursday. Gladys is in the hospital and I don’t have a ride.
“I can’t do it on Thursday. I have a date.”
“Really?”
“Yes mother, really.” His mother snorts.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing… I’m just surprised is all.”
Winston walks down the steps into the basement. Removing his shoes he sits on the couch. The lights are off and silence reigns. The sobs come slowly at first, and then build until they engulf his being. Unconsciously he digs his hands into his knees, grabbing a handful of his pants legs. Slowly the sobs become silent tears, and then just emptiness. Curling into a ball he falls asleep.
“Winston.”
“Yes Mother.”
“I visited your principal in school today. Is there anything you want to tell me?”
Winston drops his ball and spins around wildly, a look of terror in his eyes. His mother catches him by the shirt, choking him at the collar. Scooping him in her arms she begins to walk toward the shed. Winston starts flailing his arms wildly, fighting for his freedom.
“Stop it!” she hisses, her arms wrapped like boa snakes around his ribs. “Stop it right now!”
“No!”
“You know better than to embarrass me.” Winston starts kicking her in the back with his heels. She drops him to the ground and swings hard with her hand, hitting him in the face. The world swirls before his eyes, little blue stars dancing in and out of the trees. Before he can stand she has a handful of his hair, dragging him to the shed, his feet scrambling behind his body.
“Playing doctor with little girls is a sin Winston. A SIN!” The taste of copper layers Winston’s tongue. “Hell is not a nice place Winston, and I’ll be damned if you’re going to go there.” She closes the door to the shed, swinging the latch shut.
The night air feels like a soft kiss against Winston’s skin. The road in front of his house is as deserted as the woods that surround his home. As a child he remembers seeing deer, and one time a bear near his home, but no longer. The growth of the town half a mile down the road pushed the wildlife away. Probably for their own good, he thought. He steps and turns around. Twigs crackle under his bare feet.
“Mother, I’d like you to meet Sandy.” Winston’s mother stands at the top of the stairs, a dark silhouette. You can see the flowers in her hat, her favorite for church.
“Where did you sleep last night?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Did you fornicate with that whore?” She points a boney finger at Sandy.
“Shut up mother!”
“…And if your eyes should cause you to sin, tear them out! It’s better to enter the Kingdom of God blind than go with both eyes into Gehenna!”
“SHUT UP!”
“Jezebel!” She walks down the steps gingerly, her old bones creaking as much as the stairs. Sandy stares stunned, as if she has been punched in the stomach. Winston’s mother is directly in front of her now, her eyes burning with hate.
“Don’t your have any shame? Any decency?”
“Mother! Please!” Winston’s mother reaches in her purse and takes out some crumpled dollars, stuffing them in Sandy’s hands.
“Here’s a little extra dear.”
Sandy storms out, running like a wounded animal towards her car. Dust from the dirt road billows backward from the tires as she pulls off.
“Sandy!”
“Get ready for church Winston. Lord knows you need to go. Gladys will be by soon.”
Sandy walks down the aisle and takes a seat on the pew beside Winston. He looks straight ahead, his eyes locked and glazed. She takes his hand and wraps it in hers, pressing them all into her lap. The church fills with people, blue-haired women wrapped in black. The sound of pipe organ fills the air, and instantly people begin to cry; the music is proof of the truth of the moment. The pastor walks to the pulpit, his Bible tucked under his arm.
“We are here today because the Lord has called our dear sister home.” The pastor clears his throat and looks out into the crowd. Swirling fans over the pews wobble slightly, blowing hot air. He is black and huge, born for Southern preaching. Beads of sweat cover his face, which he wipes with a billowing handkerchief.
“We don’t need to worry, and we don’t need to fear. Sister Colman is in a better place.” Amen’s fill the air. An usher is walking an old women down the aisle, helping her to her seat. Winston stares ahead, his eyes locked on the picture of his mother. Sandy clasps his hand harder. Winston squeezes back, staring her in the eyes.
He can see the smoke now. Small clouds begin to twist into the sky like souls released from tombs. The crackle of the wood is surprisingly loud in the still of the forest. Winston sits on the ground, burying his chin in his knees. Soon the fire becomes visible, hungrily licking at the side of the house. He hears the breaking of glass and covers his ears. Now the fire burns like the flames of hell, forcing him onto the dirt road.
