Mafially Yours

2

The tension died, and the loud voices were replaced by silence. But this time, it wasn't comforting.

"She left us, Nana." He paused, his eyes never leaving the road. "She chose to leave us when you were a little child. A baby. A three-month baby." He gulped and shook his head. "You were a baby that still needed her milk and she left me with you, with me not having a clue of what to do and raising a child. I panicked every time you cried because I didn't know what you wanted. I had to try everything to find out why you were."

I adjusted myself in my seat, staring at the road too.

"No matter how much I begged her to come back, no matter how many letters I sent her, her parents, her sisters. I got nothing. I even went to their house and knocked for hours and waited and waited for someone to walk out just to help me with you. I stood there for hours in the cold with you, little girl, between my arms, helpless, not knowing what to do. Then I realized that all that time I came and stood there in front of an empty house. They moved. I even tried to find them but I didn't know where to look except around their house."

My eyes watered and I didn't know what to say.

"I know you want to know about her and you want to know if your mom exists, but she doesn't deserve to be your mom, Nana. Why would she be a parent to you if she left you? Why do you care to know her when she doesn't care to know you?" He paused. "When I gave up on finding her, I was angry, and that's when I promised myself that I would let no one know what happened and that she's never going to see you again as long as I'm alive and breathing. No matter how much she begs me. No matter how much she looks for us, she's not going to see you again. So I took you, and I moved, way further than she would ever go." He closed his eyes for a few seconds and gripped the wheel tighter. "It breaks me when you say "mom," because she doesn't deserve to be your mom. She doesn't deserve to be called mom."

We stayed silent for a couple of minutes, letting the road noises be our only background. I needed this time to let his words sink in. I kept wondering why she chose to leave.

"Do you know if she's still alive?" I asked.

"She is." He harshly said, as if he wished she wasn't. "She left this picture to someone working at the company. She gave him money to give this picture to you."

"Do you know why she chose to leave?"

He took a moment to respond to my question, and I wasn't blaming him. I stared at the sun that was setting on us and blinked a couple of times to stop the tears that kept threatening to fall.

"Because we were broke." He finally said. "She said she couldn't keep living like this. She said she's going to go find herself, somewhere else...with someone else... who has money." He looked out the window.

"I'm so sorry, dad." I placed my hand on his arm, not sure if I was apologizing for what she did to him or for asking and reopening his wound.

"At least now you know." His coldness made me close my mouth. But he was right. At least now I know, so I can stop breaking him every time I ask about her and act like he was the one hiding her or what happened to her from me.

The rest of the ride was silent. When we parked in front of our house, I was the first one to get out of the car. I wanted to escape this silence. I wanted to escape this feeling that I caused him. It was dark, and it was getting colder. I looked back at him. He was still in the car and not in the mood to get out.

"Aren't you coming?" I asked him.

"In a bit." He yelled back.

I nodded and walked to the front door. I got my key out, opened the door, and stepped in, walking straight to the kitchen to have a cup of water. It was so necessary to gulp down the news I just got. Why did she choose to leave us for money? I filled my cup with water and stood on the island as I sipped at it. But I suddenly heard yelling from outside. I frowned. Who is he yelling at?

On my way to the door, I heard a loud shot. I screamed. I dropped the cup of water that had splashed everywhere and filled the ground with a million pieces of glass. I ran to the door and opened it. My soul left my body when I saw my father lying on the ground, motionless, breathless, and unconscious. A lake of blood started to fill the ground around his chest. His hand formed around his chest, but instead of helping, it was only turning red. I was frozen. I slowly moved closer to him. My heart is beating loudly against my chest. My hands are shaking uncontrollably. My body was refusing to breathe. I got there.

"Find Huncho; he will help. You, Huncho, that's his name, Nana." As he took his last breath, I looked down at him with tears flowing down my eyes, I felt helpless. A perfect hole was centered in the middle of his chest. His eyes stayed open, but his heart stopped beating. His face slowly turned grey and lifeless.