Hell's Heir

Chapter Five

Grandpa, Roger and I got off the elevator and half jogged down the hall to Mom's hospital room. While we had been on the way in the car, Grandpa explained how he'd gotten a phone call from the hospital. The doctors who'd been taking care of Mom called urgently told him that he and any children, friends and family close to Mom to come and see here immediately. The reason why was all too clear: Mom was dying.

We found her room and rushed in. Roger had already been falling apart on the car ride there, but when he saw her lying there on the bed; pale, thin, with sunken cheeks and eyes, her chest barely rising and falling, he burst into violent sobs and ran to her bedside. There were other relatives present, and a distant cousin who was sitting a chair beside the bed moved so Roger could take her spot. I went over and stood behind my brother, and placed my hands on his strong, broad shoulders.

Mom had been a small woman to begin with, both in height and size, but the long fight against her condition had taken an immense toll on her body. But when she saw our faces, her blue eyes--much like Roger's--lit up, and she smiled. "My babies."

Tears stung my eyes, Roger's sobs reducing to a whimper as Mom stroked the side of his face with her fingertips. Roger grabbed her hand and held it against his cheek. "Please, why? Why now? Why ever? Why do you have to die? This isn't fair!"

"Oh honey," Mom said soothingly. "It's my time, I suppose. It doesn't mean I have to like it though." She weakly motioned to come closer, and when he did, she kissed Roger on the forehead. Sniffling, Roger got off the chair and I found myself taking his spot.

"Mom..." I couldn't figure out what to say. Inside I could feel my heart shattering; Mom and I were more than mother and daughter, we were the best of friends. Now I was losing both my only parent and friend at the same time.

Mom pushed my brown bangs out of my eyes. "You look so much like your father Ivory, you have his heart too. My beautiful blue eyed girl. Your father chose your name you know? He found the name Ivory fitting," she laughed, a sound that I knew I'd deeply miss. "Not just because if your skin, but your spirit too. Strong and beautiful, just like Ivory."

I inhaled a shaky breath, tears slipping down my cheeks. "What was Dad like?"

Mom smiled lovingly. "Much like you. And he loved you, both of you," she looked at both Roger and I, "so very much. Though if I had the choice I would stay here with you guys, but I'm also happy knowing I will be reunited with him. We're going to wait for the day where you kids will come join us. Then we'll finally be together. Truly."

The room was silent for a time, then I stood from the chair, bent over the bed and kissed her on the cheek. "I love you, Mom. So goddamn much. I'm so lucky to have a mother like you. Thank you for all you taught me."

Everyone else took that as a cue to come over and share their last good byes, and I stood back beside my brother. In the next ten minutes it was only me, Roger and Grandpa remaining in the room. A nurse had came by once to tell us visiting hours were over, but left us alone when she saw we weren't going to move.

Then, after another fifteen minutes, Mom took her last breath.

.        .        .

When we entered our apartment, everything looked darker, the shadows deeper than before. I turned on the hall light, but it didn't feel like it changed anything. Roger came in behind me and closed the door; Grandpa wanted to be left alone in the car.

Silence and grief hung in the air like toxic fog as my brother and I put away our shoes and jackets before going upstairs to our rooms. When I entered my bedroom I threw my gym bag, pay cheque and dagger onto the mattress, and just stood where I was, crying silently. Suddenly I heard a thump come from Roger's room and found him sitting on the floor, back again the side of his bed, his knees to his chest in the fetal position. His face was a hollow mask, devoid of everything but deep sorrow. He barely glanced at me as I slid down to sit beside him, but he huddled closer, resting his head on my shoulder. I held him, running my fingers through his dark brown hair; he wrapped his arms around me closer. Then the tears came.