Finally we were on our way, after months of planning and painstakingly saving money we were on our way

A/N Again this is not beta’d, but I don’t think there are too many mistakes. If there are please tell me I’ll take of it, or not. Thank you for reading.

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Finally we were on our way, after months of planning and painstakingly saving money we were on our way. Out the door I walked, my head held high with pride, my children falling in line behind me whispering excitingly between them. I nodded to the neighbor, Janet, who was weeding her flower garden; she waved back her flowered hat skewed on her head of short gray curls. We were on our way.

“Dear, oh dear!” I turned at the exclamation, another neighbor, this one the matriarch from down the street was rushing toward me her luggage like purse clutched in her arthritis ridden hands.

“Hello Mrs. Berkowitz, we are just about to leave.” I said this, allowing my pride to shine through with my wide smile. My youngest squealed with delight. “We’re just waiting for my husband and his mother.” Mrs. Berkowitz shook her head, her entire body shaking with the force of it, eyes wild with some emotion I had never seen.

“No, no you mustn’t. You don’t understand the danger, the anger this time of year.” Her pristine dentures rattled as she talked and I had a hard time keeping a straight face.

“But its summer, everyone is happy during summer.” Her hands curled around my shoulders, seemingly trying to shake her ideas into me. I allowed it, the shock rendering me defenseless for the moment.

“No it is not! Summer is a bad time of year, people leave their homes, people get restless with the heat, people snap and it’s a bad time. Oh the heat! The heat you understand?” I politely shrugged my shoulders, trying to dislodge her tight grip; she was stronger than she looked.

“I don’t know about that, we do have air conditioning in the car, but we will be sure to stay safe. My husband wont leave me.” The old women stepped back, her eyes half lidded. She pointed a creaking finger at me accusingly. I took a step back not wanting her anger to lash out at me.

“I have something for you then, Miss Mighty.” I waited as she searched through her bag, half wondering what was taking my husband so long, not caring at all what she would pull out for me to see. Finally she pulled out a newspaper, creased many times over. She shook it out and put it directly in my face.

“There! There see! Can you see it?” her voice was frantic, her hands rattled with her emotions. I looked at the newspaper, not expecting to find anything and I didn’t. Just the normal news, a shooting in the city, an escapee, higher taxes projected for next term, protesting against the war, nothing new, nothing that should stop me from my trip. Not after all the planning and the saving.

“I don’ t see anything that has to do with me.” My youngest pulled on the end of my blouse.

“Mommy, mommy when’s daddy going to be here with nana?” I smiled at her, she looked so much like me it made me want to cry at times.

“Soon, love. Soon.” I turned to Mrs. Berkowitz. “Is there anyone I can call for you? A family member? Or would you like me to walk you to your house?” I didn’t want to walk her home, but it was the polite thing to do.

“No, no, no! I am not crazy. I wont be pushed aside like a crazy person.” I nodded my head as she ranted, a small smile on my face. “You don’t understand, you don’t see but you will. Oh dear will you see it.” She walked away her back hunched over painfully, hands awkwardly curling at her sides. I stood for a moment watching her leave, then another one of my children started to pull on my shirt.

“Is he here yet?” I shook my head, my husband was running very late. “Lets wait on the porch. Dad and nana should be here soon.” We walked together, my daughters holding my hands, my son leading the way. We waited there on the porch, my hands moving silently, always moving, brushing my hair out of my face, smoothing out any wrinkles.

“Mommy! Mommy! Its dad! I see him, I see dad!” We all turned to look, each of our faces filled with hopeful expressions. My husband pulled into the driveway with our van, his cranky old mother with her pinched look beside him in the front seat.

“Are you ready?” he asked through the open window, his mother stiffened.

“Could you shut that, please.” She held a hand to her nose. “Allergies.” He immediately complied and quickly stepped out of the van. I rushed over to him.

“Oh, why were you so late?” He brushed a knuckle against my mouth and smiled like a big goofy kid.

“Am I? Mother had some problems that needed to be taken care of before we left. Nothing that could wait, you know how sick she is.” I said nothing as I watched him load the trunk with our bags. Soon we were on the road, as we turned the corner away from the house Mrs. Berkowitz stepped out of her house. Her face was cast in shadows her hand blocking out the sun. I felt a chill shiver down my spine.

Our drive was long; we all grew agitated, our words coming out harsh and angry. My husband’s mother sat in the front seat; she couldn’t bare to be in the backseat not next to the air conditioning. She complained the entire way about the car. Her son knew better than to buy a car like this, she then would look pointedly behind he at me. I fumed besides my youngest, her hands brushed against my thighs and knees. She hummed slightly to herself, always the musical child. I threaded my fingers through her soft hair.

“I have something to say.” I ignored the voice, concentrating on my youngest. She cleared her throat. “I want to say something, please would you turn off the music.” My husband flicked the switch, as he stared down the darkening road. “I believe that we should change our route. I know that the children have been hoping for a trip to that… that amusement park but I just do not see how that will help them. How it will help them learn.” She turned her head to look at me only for a moment, I clenched my hands in anger. “We must see Washington, our nations capital.” The children groaned all ready knowing, even at their young ages that nana always got her way.

“No, we are going to the park. We are going shopping at the mall, we will go to the beach.” I said this, trying to sound confident but I knew I had failed miserably. My husband’s mother did not even acknowledge that I had spoken. She stared at him, face unreadable.

“Janie, you know mother has a point, it would be nice to see D.C.” He looked at me through the mirror, I started back willing him to say no. I heard his mother gasp before a great force rocked the van to its side. My head smacked into the side window and I heard the children crying with fear. We flipped over but finally landed in the ditch. At first we said nothing, then all at once the children started to yell.

“Mommy! Oh Mommy! I think my leg is broken! My leg!” My son reached for his older screaming sister and twisted sharply on her arm. “Ow! Mommy! Mommy! Tommy pinched me! He pinched me!” She slapped her brother against his head and the two started a slapping fight. My youngest laid still against me, her little mouth open with shock. She looked up at me, her eyes wide.

“Mommy dad tired to kill us.” I said nothing, silently thinking that myself. If only he had listened to me and only me, then this would never have happened. I took off my strap and climbed out the door, I could hear my husband asking his mother if she were fine. He said nothing to me. The highway that had seemed so busy moments ago was deserted. I could see the pothole that my husband has ran into and the flat tire it had caused. He stepped out of the car, assessing the damage. I heard him sigh before he turned to me.

“I guess I should walk to a phone. Unless you brought a cell phone?” He sounded hopeful. I had not brought the cell phone, wanting us to have uninterrupted family time. We waited for an hour at least for him to come back, his mother did not say a word but glared at me the entire time. The children after much arguing and fights finally sat down to wait it out with me. We huddled close, the children and I, the dark night cast strange shadows that scared the little ones. He came back in a large red wagon, his smile was inviting, we stood to greet him.

“Hello, ma’am I’m Jacob. I would sure like to help you out.” He extended a warm callused hand toward me. I wouldn’t have taken it but that would have seemed impolite.

“Can you fix our car, sir?” I tired to look thankful, but I don’t think I succeeded, the mans smile faded at my words.

“Don’t rightly know, I’m not a mechanic but I can give you a lift to the nearest hotel.” My husband stepped forward.

“That would be great, we’re all tired.” We climbed into his car, my husband’s mother claiming the front seat, her eyes strange and distant. St first I thought it was a joke, that the man just wanted to mess with me. When everyone started to get out of the car though I knew it wasn’t. I looked around the so called hotel, my eyes hardened with disbelieve and anger. I was expected to stay here? This was by all definitions of the word, a flee bag. My husband said nothing instead paid for one room. At that his mother whipped her head around.

“One room? I thought we agreed that I would need a separate room? You know how sick I am, I would never be able to sleep with,” she glanced at me. “In the room you know that.” My husband said nothing but started to gather our things from Jacob’s trunk. The children sleepily followed him. His mother and I stared at each other for I don’t know how long of a time before my husband came back.

“Are you coming in? You’ll catch cold.” He wrapped his arm around his mother and steered her inside, leaving me behind. I followed mutely. The inside was even worse than I had expected, dirty, unkempt and not even the minor convenience everyone used. The remote, no batteries, was bolted to the nightstand, next to it a broken phone and a raggedy copy of the Bible. I picked it up and leafed through it, nothing interested. My husband walked to the vending machine and picked out for each of us a bottle of pop. Finally when none of us could think of something else to do we laid down to sleep not talking. My children were uncommonly quiet. It might have been their nana, or maybe even they knew something was wrong. His mother laid alone on the queen bed, snuggled within her covers and the extra ones from the closest (even though it was much too hot), her loud snoring roaring through the room. My children surrounded me on the other bed noses buried in my stomach. My husband sat still on the only chair in the room, his back to me facing the door, a thick metal pole clenched in his hand. He acted as if an attack would happen at any moment and maybe it would. Soon I fell asleep, in spite of the noise, the heat and the dreadful feelings erupting in me.

I woke suddenly, my body not moving but my eyes snapping open. I couldn’t hear the snoring, nor the insistent press of noses and bodies against my sides. Slowly I began to move, pain shot through my temples and raced toward the ends of my fingers. I fought down the urge to choke on the vomit pulsing through my throat. When my stomach settled I looked around the room, our luggage was gone, my children and husband with it. I stood, making my way towards the bathroom. I needed to think clearly, something had happened to my family.

As I passed the bed a flash of white caught my eyes. I turned, my feet seemingly moving by themselves not paying the least of attention to my resistant mind. I fell to my knees wanting to know, having to know. I lifted the sheet, my husband’s mother laid on her belly face turned to the side in a petrified expression, on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding her. A gasp escaped my mouth; a horrific scream echoed through the room, I didn’t know who had screamed. The stiff body was without the dignity of clothing and full of angry welts and bruises, she had been laying there for a while it looked like, a few maggots had taken home in her mouth, one fell with a loud thump as I watched . I pushed myself back to the wall, my head slammed against it with full force. The smell infiltrated all of my senses, seeping into my pores, clinging to my body. I banged my head again trying to clear my racing thoughts, to rid myself of the ability to smell. This was the women who had undermined everything that I had ever said. She had forced her way into every family trip, dinner, baseball game, everything. How had I slept through it, where did my children go? My husband?

On my hands and knees I crawled toward the phone, my trembling forced me to stop every few paces. I reached it and grasped the half broken piece of civilization. The old phone confused my at first, I had never seen a rotary phone in use before. I spun the numbers for 911.

“Hello, 911. What’s the emergency?” The cool voice of a woman too long in one job and bored greeted me.

“Yes… yes…. My family! I don’t know where my family is. My husband’s mother is… oh god… she’s dead! Dead.” I let out the tears I hadn’t known would come, for so long I had thought I would rejoice when she died.

“Ma’am? Can you tell me where you are?”

“I don’t know… some hotel.”

“Do you know anything at all that could help? Or are you just an incompetent, failure? Is that why your family left you?” My tears started falling in full force cursing down my cheeks in greats rivers.

“No, oh no.”

“Failure, just a no good spoilt, failure!” The woman began chanting the words in my head until I could only echo them back.

“Failure, failure, failure!” I told the woman.

“You’re children left you, your husband has found another woman, one who will appreciate all he will do for her. He loves her, the children love her.” I banged my head again against the wall.

“You killed her, you killed her and you enjoyed it and they left you. No one will ever want to be with you again. Failure! Failure! Failure! Failure!” I banged my head against the wall, again and again and again, until I could feel the blood flowing down my back then I did it more, ripping out my hair and clenching my jaw drawing blood there too. I slammed my head again, this time I had gotten the angle just right. I slumped to the ground.

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you there? Can you here me? I’ve traced your call, an ambulance will be there shortly. Just hold on. Someone will be there shortly to help, you are not alone. Just hold on a little bit longer.”

Mrs. Berkowitz was right I can see it now.

The End