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Tears on a Sunday Afternoon - Michael Presley [27]

By Root 259 0
the number of customers in there at the present moment, they definitely needed to try something else. The smoking gadget wasn’t working. The bartender had brought my drink and disappeared into the back. Hennessy on the rocks guaranteed to increase your blood pressure. In other words, the black man killer drink. I tried to look at the time on my watch but the smoke was too much, so I gave up and picked up my drink once more. She had chosen the bar so I could only wait for her arrival. It wasn’t clear to me if I was hungry or simply nervous. My stomach had begun to boil to indicate an abnormality in my being. I had called her because I desperately needed someone to talk to. I couldn’t ever remember a time when I needed her so much. She needed to be there for me; I needed to look at her and explain my predicament.

“Hello, Donald,” she said as she sat down next to me.

I looked over at her. As always, I was awestruck by her beauty. Her face was a perfect photograph. Her smile was a content one that made the viewer certain that she was confident in her appearance.

“Hi, Mom,” I said.

“You seem troubled, Donald. Is there anything your mother can do?” she asked.

“Would you like a drink?” I asked, hoping the bartender would reappear. I hadn’t seen him since he had poured me that first drink. It wasn’t that I wanted a refill or anything like that. My drink seemed to have stayed the same since he had poured it; even the ice cubes seemed not to have melted.

“Mama didn’t tell you? Your mother never drank. I’m never thirsty. How’s Mama doing? I hope she’s doing well. She’s a very good woman. One day I’ll have to sit down with her and talk. I’m sure a lot has happened since I left. She’ll tell me all the bad things you did, Donald. I hope you’ve been a good boy.”

My mother lifted her hand and ran her fingers through my hair. I felt a cool breeze rifling through my curly hair.

“Mom, I found Daddy,” I said, looking at her for an immediate reaction.

She looked a little puzzled. “So, how do you know that he’s your father?”

“I’m ninety-nine-point-nine percent positive that it’s him.”

“I don’t know what to say, Donald. I never knew your father too well. Except for him ordering me around, I never really spoke to him. Because of what he did to me, I know he’s an evil man, but that’s about it. What are you going to do with him?”

She had asked the question I didn’t know the answer to. “I don’t know,” I said, certain she could read my mind.

“When are you going to see him?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Where?”

“I heard he likes hunting and tomorrow is supposed to be a big deer hunting day. People come from all over the country to hunt in upstate New York.”

“You got a gun?”

“Yeah, I bought one.”

“Are you going to use it?”

“I don’t know; I was hoping you could tell me what to do.”

“Animals are tough to kill and sometimes killing them could cause more harm than good. They sometimes fight back and you can also get hurt. You have to think about what you have to lose.”

“Mom, I thought about it. I lost you.”

“Boy, that was a long time ago. Don’t do it for me; I’m sure you have other people that you need to protect.”

I held the glass in my hand as tears ran down my eyes. “Mom, someone has to pay for what they did to us. We can’t let him get away with it. Someone’s got to pay.”

Again the cool breeze ran through my hair and my shoulders felt cold.

“It’s okay, Son. Everything will work itself out. It’s okay.”

The loud knocking on the door jolted me awake. I looked at the door and wondered why it was locked. I always kept my door unlocked just in case my son needed to come in. As I got off the bed, the gun fell from my hand onto the floor. Slowly, realization of my actions came back to me. I had gotten up and locked the door after I had removed the gun from the safe. I quickly returned the gun to the safe and wiped the sweat off my face. I looked over at the clock. It was 9:00 p.m. I must have dozed off.

I opened the door and my son came in.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“What are you still doing up, Emerald?”

“Daddy, why was the door locked?”

“I must’ve

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