The Day Matthew's Mom Died
AUTHOR'S NOTE
This was taken from an earlier draft. I hated cutting this chapter. This was officially the start of Alaine and Matthew’s path to best friends. She was there for him and they grew a lot closer over the years.
Alaine
April 2005
Northfield, Washington
Knock! Knock! Knock!
I jerked awake.
“Lainy! Mom says you need to wake up or you won’t get breakfast!”
I squirmed under my covers and groaned.
“LAINY!” The doorknob jiggled. “I’m coming in!”
I threw the covers over my head as the door opened. Someone started pulling on the covers. “Go away, Hunter!”
“Lainy, it’s time for school! We need to go!” The covers were pulled off.
“GO AWAY!” I screamed into the pillow. He grabbed both of my ankles and pulled me off of the bed. I fell to the floor with a thud. “Ow! Hunter!” I scrambled up and tried to grab him.
He dodged my hands and ran from my room. I tore after him. We bolted down the stairs.
“Mom! Lainy’s chasing me again!” He ran into the kitchen where Mom was.
She stood by the stove, on the phone. “Yes, I know Harriet, but tomorrow doesn’t work for me. How about next week?”
Hunter ran behind her and peeked around her side. I grabbed a fork from the counter and pointed it at him.
“Mom! She’s going to hurt me!”
Mom put the phone on her shoulder. “Hunter, please!” She glared down at me. “Alaine, put that fork down, right now!”
I ignored her and continued walking toward Hunter with my fist clenched. She picked up the phone and put it to her ear. “Harriet? Sorry. Can you hold on for a minute? Harriet? Are you there?”
“Mom, she’s going to get me!” Hunter squealed.
“Stop waking me up and pulling me off my bed!” I charged, but Mom grabbed my wrist and pushed Hunter to the side.
“Both of you stop it! Hunter, go to your room. Alaine, put that fork down NOW!”
Hunter ran off laughing. Mom still held my wrist. Her grip tightened.
“Mom, you’re hurt me,” I complained. The fork fell from my hand and clanked to the white tiles.
Mom still had the phone to her ear. “Harriet? Harriet, you there? What was that noise? Harriet, answer me.”
“Mom, my wrist!” I cried.
She let go and grabbed my shoulder. “Sorry, sweetie. Please go and wait in your dad’s study.” Her voice was shaking.
I ran from the room as she continued to call Harriet’s name. Harriet was Matthew’s mom. She was nice. She always gave me a cookie whenever I came over to play with Matthew. I slid the door to Dad’s study open and closed it behind me, but left a crack open just enough to hear Mom.
“Hello? Who is this? Where’s Harriet?” Her shoes clinked against the floor. “What?! Are you sure? Is she okay? Where are you?” There was a long pause. “Okay, thank you.” The phone beeped. “Stephan!” Her voice trailed off to the basement. A minute later I heard them both come up. “Look, I need you to watch your brothers and sister for a little while, okay?”
“Why, Mom?” Stephan whined.
“Something’s come up. I’ll call your dad and see if he can come home early. Just don’t let anyone leave the house? Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Okay, thank you. I’ll be back soon.” Keys jiggled and the front door opened and closed with a bang.
I opened the sliding door and came out into the kitchen. “Where did Mom go?”
He shrugged as he opened the fridge. “I dunno know. Why are you up so early?”
“Don’t we have school?”
Stephan raised his red eyebrows. “It’s Saturday.”
My fists tightened. “I hate Hunter so much.”
“Yeah, we all do. Are you hungry?”
I crossed my arms. “No. I’m going back to bed.”
“I’ll be downstairs, and hey, if you wake up before Mom or Dad come home, don’t leave the house. Okay?”
“Okay.” I walked back upstairs to my room and shut the door behind me. I wish I had a lock on the door, but Mom said it was bad idea in case there was a fire or something. I collapsed into my bed and tried to block out Stephan shouting around the house for Charlie.
⸙
When I woke up, the shadows in my room had changed places. The covers were still on the floor and the door was still closed. At first, there was nothing, but then after a few seconds I heard a faint crying sound. I got out of bed and slowly opened the door. The crying grew louder. I stepped out into the hallway and saw Stephan, Hunter, and Charlie kneeling near the top of the stairs.
“What’s happening? Who’s crying?” I asked while I rubbed my eyes.
All three of my brother’s put their finger to their lips and shushed me. Stephan held his hand out to me and I took it. He led me right to him, and I sat on his lap.
He wrapped his arms around me. “You have to be quiet, okay?”
“What’s happening?” I whispered.
“Mom’s crying.”
“Why?”
“Matthew’s mom died.”
Died? “Why did she die?”
“I think she got in a car accident.”
We sat in silence as we listened to Mom cry. No one wanted to go downstairs. I understood what death was. When I was five, I found a squirrel lying on the ground in the park. I thought it was sleeping and so I brought it home so it would be more comfortable. Mom wasn’t happy when she found the squirrel tucked in my bed. She told me it was dead, and then explained to me what death was. She said it was like if everyone had a candle burning in them keeping them alive, but if someone or something came along and blew out their candle, they wouldn’t be alive anymore. And so, the squirrel’s candle blew out. Mom said it was sad when someone died and that we should try to comfort the people closest to the person who had died. I was sure Dad was already comforting Mom, but who was comforting Matthew and Mr. Hart?
I squirmed out of Stephan’s arms and climbed downstairs. Charlie and Hunter hissed at me to come back, but I ignored them and snuck out of the house.
I found myself standing in front of Matthew’s house. I’ve been here so many times I memorized each and every twist and turn on how to get here. It wasn’t far from where we lived. There were two police cars parked on the street. Their lights weren’t on, which was disappointing because I liked the blinking red and blue lights; the siren wasn’t very nice, though.
The front door was open. I went in. The living room was crowded with tall men in black police uniforms. I saw Mr. Hart on his couch. A woman, Matthew’s aunt, sat next to him, rubbing his back as he cried into his hands. No one seemed to notice me as I made my way across the house to the back. Matthew wouldn’t be in his room. He didn’t have a door. Mr. Hart liked to build stuff in the backyard and so he would use any wood around the house Mrs. Hart didn’t think was “house structure essential,” or something like that.
I went out the backdoor, avoided the scattered nails and wood dust piles on the yellow grass with my bare feet, and hopped over to the oddly shaped wooden structure that Mr. Hart said was a clubhouse. I pulled the two blue tarps apart and went in. Matthew sat in the far corner, hugging his knees. He had a pink face, and there were tears running down his cheeks. He was scratching at a small piece of wood and staring at the wall.
“Hi,” I whispered.
He stayed silent. He didn’t even look up at me with his usual smile.
I folded my hands behind my back as I made my way over to him. He continued to scratch at the wood. Small pieces fell onto his bare feet. I knelt down next to him, wrapped my arms around him, and rested my chin on his shoulder. I wondered how long it took to comfort someone. Mom didn’t say. Well, it didn’t matter how long. I’d comfort Matthew until he felt comforted.
⸙
“Oh, there you are!”
We jolted awake.
“I’ve been so worried. Oh, hi, Alaine. I didn’t know you were here.” Matthew’s aunt crawled into the clubhouse. “Your mom called and asked if you were over here. About an hour ago. She sounded worried. I think you should head home. I’ll call her and tell her you’re on your way, okay?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t leave Matthew. He needed me. “I want to stay,” my voice cracked.
“You two must’ve been out here for a long time. Are you hungry? Why not come inside and get some food?” She reached her hand out to me.
I removed my arm from around Matthew’s neck and took his hand. Food sounded good. “Come on. I’m hungry.”
Again, he didn’t say anything, but he let me drag him outside, and we all went into the house. The policemen were gone. Mr. Hart was in the kitchen putting something into the microwave. When he turned around I gasped. His face was pink also, and when his head tilted I could see old tear tracks on his cheeks. His eyes were so sad and his mouth looked as if it hadn’t smiled in a really long time.
Mr. Hart seemed to try to smile when he saw me, but it looked like his lips didn’t want to work. “Oh, Alaine. When did you get here?”
I shrugged.
“You probably heard then . . . from your mom?” He cleared his throat. “About my wife?”
I nodded. “I came to comfort Matthew.”
The corner of Mr. Hart’s mouth slightly turned up. “That’s very sweet of you. Thank you. Would you like something to eat?”
At that moment, my stomach growled. “Yes, please.”
“All right. I’ll heat up some frozen mac-and-cheese for you. How about you, Matty?”
I looked at Matthew. He was different. Normally, he’d be loud and excited all the time. It was weird how quiet he was. “I can feed him, Mr. Hart.”
The other corner of his mouth turned up. “Thank you, Alaine.”
I led Matthew to the kitchen table, and we sat down. His aunt came into the kitchen and set her phone on the counter. “Alaine, your mom’s coming to pick you up soon. I don’t think you’ll have time to eat.”
“Oh, leave them alone, Jackie,” Mr. Hart said. “She can have supper with us. And Evelyn can stay too if she wants.”
“Dennis, I don’t think you and Matthew should have company right now. I think you two should go get some rest.”
Mr. Hart stuck a frozen container of mac-and-cheese into the microwave. “I’m not tired.” He pressed a button and the microwave started to hum.
Matthew’s aunt walked over to Mr. Hart. “Dennis, please. It’s been a long day. I just think-”
Mr. Hart put his hand up. “No. I just want to have supper with my son and his friend. You can either join us or go home. Your choice.” The microwave beeped, making me jump. Mr. Hart dished up a couple of plates for Matthew and me, and then he joined us at the table. Matthew was still staring at the ground.
I took his fork and struck it into a cheesy noodle and held the fork close to his mouth. “Look, I won’t eat unless you eat, and you should know that I haven’t eaten all day and I’m really hungry. So, please eat so I won’t starve.”
His head lifted up and he stared at me with his sad brown eyes. His thick, sandy brown hair was messed up on the top of his head. He opened his mouth, and I stuck the fork in. He took the fork from me and started eating on his own, and I started on my own food.
The living room clock ticked on and on. The forks clicked against the glass plates and Matthew’s aunt kept pressing buttons on her phone. I felt like I should say something, but I wasn’t sure what to say. Then the doorbell rang. Matthew’s aunt left and came back with Mom.
“Dennis.” Her face was pink, too.
Mr. Hart got up, and he and Mom hugged.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as a single tear fell from her eye. They pulled away and Mr. Hart nodded. Mom glanced at me. “Alaine, I think it’s time for us to go.” She looked really tired. I probably shouldn’t try to argue with her.
I looked over at Matthew again. He was back at staring at the floor. “I have to go,” I told him. “But I can come back tomorrow.” He didn’t seem to notice that I was talking to him. Whoever this person was next to me wasn’t Matthew. Where did he go?
“Come on, Alaine,” Mom urged. I got out of my seat and took her hand. “Dennis, if you and Matthew need anything, please do not hesitate to ask. We’re here for you, always.”
“Thank you, Evie.” Mr. Hart knelt down and took my hand. “And thank you for coming to see us, Lainy. Although, Matthew isn’t saying anything right now, I’m sure I can speak for him and say he really appreciates your friendship.”
I nodded my head.
Mom and I left their house, which to me seemed really sad. The house kind of looked like it was wilting like a dead rose or a newspaper left out in the rain. We got into the van and I strapped myself in my booster seat. Mom was quiet the whole ride back home. I was waiting for her to yell at me for leaving the house without telling her, but she didn’t. She actually didn’t say anything for the rest of the day.
⸙
I couldn’t sleep. My head was thinking too much. I tiptoed to Mom and Dad’s room. They always kept their door opened.
“Mommy?” I poked her arm. She was asleep on her bed, strands of her blonde hair falling in her face. Dad snored beside her. “Mommy,” I whispered a little louder.
Her eyes popped open, and she sat up. “Sweetie, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Oh, come here.” She scooted over. I sat right next to her on the bed. She placed her arm around me and ran her fingers through my hair. I leaned into her as she continued to pet my head.
I didn’t know why, but a weird thought popped into my head. “Mommy, are my birth mom and dad dead like Mrs. Hart and Charlie and Hunter’s mom?”
Now she had both arms wrapped around me. “I don’t know, sweetie. I don’t know.”
“Can we find out?”
“No. We can’t. Remember when we had this discussion? You asked us if the agency knew where they were and we were told they didn’t.”
I wished I knew. “Do you know what they looked like?"
Mom sniffed. “No, I don’t. I’m sorry.” Her grip tightened. “But if you’re curious, you can look in a mirror. I’m sure you share some features of theirs.”
“Maybe.”
We sat in silence for a while, until Mom said, “Here, can you get off for a second? I need to get something.”
I got off the bed and she went into her closet. Upon returning, Mom held a white blanket tucked under her arm. She sat on the edge of the bed and handed me the blanket. “I was planning on giving this to you when you were a little older, but I think now is the perfect time.”
The blanket was soft, but on one side of it there were burnt marks. “What happened to the blanket?”
“Here,” Mom unfolded the blanket out and laid it across me.
The blanket had two sides: one was really soft and fuzzy, and the other side wasn’t fuzzy. If felt kind of smooth, but a little rough in some places. I ran a finger across the burnt marks, trying to see in the dim light what they were. “This doesn’t feel like my normal blankets.”
“You’re right,” Mom said. “I think this was made from a horse. Maybe your parents kept horses or worked on a ranch.”
I’ve never felt a horse before. I wondered what the horse’s name was.
“These are letters. Do you recognize the name?”
I squinted at the letters. I knew how to read and write. Reading was my favorite. “It’s my name!” I beamed.
Dad jerked awake. “What?” He sat up and stared at Mom and me.
“Sorry we woke you, honey.”
“It’s fine.” He squinted at the blanket in my hands. “Oh, you’re giving it to her now?”
“I thought it might help her sleep.”
Dad nodded, but he kind of looked confused.
An image of my birth parents started forming in my head, but their faces were fuzzy. My birth dad wore a cowboy hat over his black hair and my birth mom wore a long, pink and white checkered dress. Her hair was split into two braids. “Can I keep this?”
Mom smiled. “Of course, you can. It’s rightfully yours. Do you want any help putting it on your bed?”
“No, thank you.”
She took the blanket and folded it up for me. It wasn’t a huge blanket, just a little shorter than me. “Do you want me to walk you back to your room?”
I took the blanket from her. “No.” I started to leave the room. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Mom and Dad said.
I went back to my room. I took the yellow covers off, replaced them with the horse blanket, and crawled underneath. It felt funny under my bear arms. But I couldn’t go back to sleep. I tried to picture my birth parents, but it was like when I got to try Charlie’s glasses. Everything was really fuzzy, and Mom and Dad kept jumping into my head. So, I just lay on my bed and imagined the three of us living on a farm with white horses.