The phone stops ringing. A beat of silence.
“Are you okay?” Her voice is quiet.
The phone rings again, and I fish it out of my front pocket—mom, says the caller ID on the front screen of the clamshell device.
“Shit,” I growl. “I gotta go, Lydia.”
She unlocks the door for me. “I’ll wait around a bit longer, if you want to…resume.”
I shrug. “Just go home, Lyd. Another night.”
She nods, donning her robe. “Okay, Silas.”
I open the phone as I step into the hallway. “Hello? Ma?”
Silence greets me, and then I hear a sniffle. A rough, shaky breath. “Si, baby?”
“Mom. What’s wrong?”
“He…” a sob. “I couldn’t take it anymore, Si.”
“Mom—whathappened?” I snap the words, harsh, angry.
“I couldn’t take it anymore. I’ve taken it for twenty-five years. I can’t take anymore. I didn’t want to do it, Si.” Her voice is faint. Trembling. “I killed him.”
“Who? Dad?”
“Yes.” It’s a whisper.
I’m stunned speechless, shocked into unbreathing silence. “You…what?”
“I shot him. He wouldn’t stop, Si.” A sob, a sniffle. “I had to—I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry—I’m sorry.”
I’m jogging for the Broken Arrow area, pounding on my brothers’ doors. “It’s okay, Ma, it’s gonna be okay.”
Sol and Sax huddle near me, listening, asking me what’s wrong with their expressions.
“Ma, listen to me. Call the police, okay? Call 911. It was self-defense.”
“What the fuck, Si?” Sol demands.
I cover the mouthpiece. “Mom killed Dad.” Back to the phone, to Mom. “Are you hurt?”
“He wouldn’t stop, Si.” She coughs—it’s a wet sound. “I hurt, baby.”
“Hang up with me, call 911, and then call Robert. Don’t answer any questions the police ask till Robert is there, got it?”
“Si, I…” I hear a shuffling against the mouthpiece on her end, a loud clatter, a faint, distant sob, and then she’s back. “Max, oh god, Max. I’m sorry, Max. I didn’t mean it. Why didn’t you stop? Max, oh god, oh god…”
“Mom?” I can’t swallow. My gut is a void, an empty pit.
I know this feeling. Something bad is about to happen—something worse.
A sob, from Mom. Then, her voice. Faint, quavering—hollow, as if something integral to her being has been sapped away. “Silas?”
“Here, Ma,” I croak. “I’m here.”
“Tell your brothers…” a pause, and a sound as if she’s panting and keening through her teeth. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t strong enough. I lost you. Tell your brothers I’m sorry.”
