Yes, Master

Chapter Six: Kicking and Thrashing

  I collapse in sobs. Suddenly, nothing, not Alexander, not Curtis, not a ball, not a dress, matters. All that matters is the fact that my mother is no longer here. No longer alive. She will no longer be there to give me hugs. To comfort me. To love me. She won't see me get married. Won't see me have children. All these milestones she won't be there to see. I sob for Lily. I'm practically grown, but Lily still has so much growing to do. But there will be no mother to guide her.

   All the while, Curtis strokes my hair and murmurs comforting phrases. I eventually look up, my face tear-stained. I yell at him tearfully, "You idiot! Not only do you come and beat up the boy I love, you also rub so much salt in that wound by telling me awful news! I hate you! If you think I'm your girlfriend, I'm not and I never will be! I hate you!" 

  Subconsciously, I know I'm directing my anger for my mother's death at the wrong person, but I'm so angry at him for other reasons that it only feels right to blame him. I begin to pound at his chest with my fists, trying to break him. But he just sits there, letting me pound him.

  After a  while, he winces and takes my hand. "We need to get you home. You're not thinking rationally," he says, shockingly calm. He tries to drag me, but I struggle. Eventually, he turns me upside down and carries me. I thrash in his arms all the way home.

  I come in to the apothecary's shop, where Lily is lying on her cot.

  She looks up. "Mama's gone," she says, surprisingly strong.

  "Oh, Lils," I say, sitting next to her. Seeing her speak about Mama's death so frankly brings about a fresh batch of tears. I wrap my arms around her. We just hold each other like that, gripping each other like we're each others' life preservers, like we're the only thing keeping each other afloat.

   The next morning, when I wake up, my pillow is tear-stained and Lily is standing above me.

  "Curtis said that you are mad at him because he beat up the boy you were kissing," Lily says matter-of-factly.

  "Is that really important, Lily?" I ask. But inside, I don't blame Lily. I feel like any small distraction is welcome and even useful to stem the inevitable flow of tears. I realize I'm still in my dress from last night. Last night, when everything was normal, when the only thing that mattered was a pretty dress and kissing a pretty face. Oh, how things have changed.

  I go off to find Curtis. "We've informed your employers that you will be out. We're making funeral arrangements. The funeral will be Saturday," he says seriously. I cry. Here I am, arranging my mother's funeral. It's so wrong. Lily and I, we're nothing but children, yet we're attending the funeral of the woman who raised us. We pick flowers and various other things. I'm all the while wondering how we're going to pay for this. Memories flood back with every choice. The choice of lilies as the flowers on the casket remind me of how my mother always used to tell us that she named us after her favorite flowers, roses and lilies. The choice of a mahogany casket reminds me of the mahogany table my father once built my mother. Every little thing reminds me of her. And it hurts so much.