Our Mother the Mountain

18. I Am That I Am

Karl turned the mechanism in his hands. They were in the attic, and Jochen's face was so near his that their cheeks almost touched. His brother stared in wonder at what Karl had found. There was hope, then.

"Ist das das Richtige, Karl?"

"Das ist es."

"You never went looking through the manor for these things?" Jochen drew away, and he spared an almost pitying glance at his brother. "All things of Mother and Father's, all here."

"I didn't," Karl responded, indignant in his tone as he turned the crafted mechanism in his hands, letting the autumn light glimmer off its metal edges. "It was...too hard."

Jochen said nothing; rummaging through others' memories and belongings was the only way he had survived for decades, when he wasn't a captive prisoner without a body or mind of his own. Karl seemed to notice the glum expression on his brother's face and he squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "Danke."

—-------

He was already dressed and ready for school, the uncomfortable feeling of mint toothpaste fresh on his lips when Ethan heard his mother's voice. He was walking toward the side door, fumbling with his new discman, but the headphones were around his neck. Her voice filtered strangely through the empty hallway.

Hollow. "No school today, dear."

He shifted in the hall, an annoyed scowl creeping onto his face. Was it a holiday? No, couldn't be, he had a stupid presentation due in biology tomorrow, he would have known if there was a scheduled day off. And today was Thursday, on top of that. He glanced out the glass door, noting the weather; blustery, mild, autumnal. No storms.

Ethan should have been delighted to hear her words; after another move, and only a month or so of his first year of high school over, any break was a nice break. But he sighed loudly anyway. He'd gotten dressed, dammit. And stayed up late to work on that stupid report. The 14 year old walked backward several steps and peered through the archway, taken aback when he finally saw his mother's face.

She sat in the large, bay-windowed family room. Just last week she finally achieved her end-of-summer goal: they were now proud owners of a big-screen TV. The TV was turned off, but she sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket, obvious tears trailing down her cheeks. When she saw Ethan she hurriedly wiped them away, trying and failing to give a reassuring smile.

His grouchiness was suspended; his frown fell into a concerned look. "Mom, what's wrong?"

She didn't even try to mask it. Her hazel eyes flickered toward the black screen, and she hugged herself a bit more tightly. Behind her, out the large floor-to-ceiling windows, the changing leaves waved on their gnarled trees. Fall was definitely here. It made the bleakness on her face look even more stark. After a resigned sigh, she explained calmly, "The government just...bombed a city. This morning. It's all over the news. There was some kind of viral outbreak."

His eyes widened. "No way."

Being a single mom of a teenage boy, she was quick with retorts. "Way." After this levity she sighed again and tossed the remote aside, as if finished with TV for the day. "Public schools in just about every state are canceled...emergency day I guess. Those poor people." She rubbed her temples. She had been crying for a while, he surmised, and he felt bad that he didn't know before now.

Ethan didn't know what to say to her last sentence, and he fought with the option of running back up to his room and going back to sleep. He would absolutely do it, he decided, but for the moment he dropped his backpack and dragged his feet toward her. Ethan plopped down and offered a wordless hug. He could see their reflections on the dark screen in front of him. Him: too slim, tall, scowly. Her: brunette, short, adoring, but currently shaken. As usual his mother appreciated the hug and returned it a bit too tightly, nearly crushing his ribs when she embraced him.