Savage's Sun

Twenty-four Years Ago July 1986 Dean She came into my bedroom, in the middle of the night, waking me up and urging me to stay quiet. When I asked her what was wrong, she didn't respond but took me out of bed and told me to put on my shoes. Without turning the light on, she asked one thing of me in the dark, "Hold on to my hand and your brother's hand. Don't let go, no matter what." She was my mother. I would have done everything and anything for her to stay with me. Do anything to please her. But that night, I failed her. "Where do you think you're going with them, Miranda?" The large masculine voice came like thunder over our heads in the dark. Mother's hand grasped mine tighter as she halted, we were just a few steps away from the front door. The light turned on and Mother spun to face him. Her face filled with conviction and disgust as she looked up at the man with his hand on the light switch, her husband, the father of her children, our father. He stood at the stairs, sleep still stained his eyes, a white bandage with a red spot wrapped around his upper arm, as he looked down at the four of us, holding on to each other's hands; I, in the middle, held Mother's and Erick's hands, and Ace, the youngest of us at just three-years-old held on to Erick's hand at the end of the line. We were like chicks, following in the tail of our hen, holding on to her as to not get lost in the night while the big cat leered around. "I'm taking my children away from here, Porter. From you. You told me this would end, but it was just the beginning for you. I may have married you, but my children. certainly didn't sign up for this." "Miranda, sit down and we'll—" "You killed a cop! Porter, this will never end. You don't want to give up this life!" "And you know very well why that had to happen. Everything was running smoothly for us until that cop showed up. He was new, asking too many questions he wouldn't have liked the answers to. I did this for our family, Miranda. To protect you." "Keep telling yourself that. In the meantime, I'm leaving." She pulled my arm and turned. "You're not going anywhere with my children, Miranda." His voice dropped a few octaves and he has not moved an inch from where he stood. At just six-years-old, I've come to observe so much about my parents. For example, when Father got angry, his voice got lower and his posture remained stoic, and when Mother was furious she screamed the skies down, and big tears fell on her cheeks. They were polar opposites. "They're mine too!" Mother screamed, turning back around, directing her fury at him, my hand still in hers, her anger burned my small fingers. "Look, I understand what happened last night had you freaked out. But look. I'm fine." He pointed to the bandage around his arm. "All patched up. That man is being taken care of and that cop is not a problem anymore. Sweetheart, before I started all this, I promised to protect you and our children. I don't intend to fail at that." "What happened last night won't just be a one-time thing. I know it. I know you. We will always be looking over our shoulders because of you. My children will never be safe as long as we remain near you. I'm leaving Vegas!" Porter chuckled. "You're seven-months pregnant, about to give birth to Luca at any given moment, you have no car, no money, Miranda. Where exactly do you plan to go?" "Back to New York! Where everything was simple. Where my husband wasn't addicted to a life of crime!" He sighed. "Come." He urged, walking down the stairs towards us. "Come rest. I know last night was stressful. Let me massage your belly and we'll go to sleep. Tomorrow is another day." "There will always be another day, Porter," she stepped back from him, we followed, our hands still chained together. But little by little, I felt Erick's hand slipping from mine. My eight-year-old brother was always closer to Father. He was the oldest and had learned so much from him. So much that I had yet to learn. I knew deep down, he disagreed with what Mother was trying to do that night, just as Father did. I held on to Erick's hand tighter now. Mother needed me too. Mother continued, walking backward. "Another day where I have to worry if I'm going to be put in jail because I'm an accomplice to your crimes. Another day where I have to worry if it will be one of my children who gets shot this time." With that, Porter looks down at the bandage covering his upper arm. "Miranda, you have to believe me. I didn't—" "You said this new career path was temporary. You said when we left New York, we were gonna be happier. That I would be happy with you, Porter. You said we would be okay. You've been lying ever since!" She turned. "No!" I screamed as I felt Erick's hand leave mine. He ran to stand by our father's side. "Erick, come back here!" Mother screamed but Father was already ahead of us now, locking the front door and standing in front of it. I wasn't strong enough to hold on to Erick's hand, I let him let go and it changed everything. And two years later, not long after she gave birth to our youngest brother Luca, Mother left. For years to come, she never came back. And I never forgot that day.