The Melody of Lost Souls

I Never Wanted to be a Mother

MY MOM'S EXPRESSION is openly surprised as I close the gap between us.

"Elijah?"

"What are you doing here?" I ask, with a frown.

Surely she wasn't here to see Atlas. She'd made it pretty clear that she wanted nothing to do with Atlas, simply because she blamed him for Dan's death. So, why was she here?

"I should be asking you the same thing," she retorts, crossing her arms and dodging the question.

"My friend is here," I say. "Is dad, okay? Is that why you're here?"

Mom hesitates and then shakes her head. "Your dad is fine. I'm here to help."

"Help how?" I wrinkle my nose. My mom isn't exactly the helpful type.

She stares at me for a moment as if deliberating her answer, and then sighs. "I'm volunteering by visiting those people who have no one else to visit. Especially those who are in the hospital for drug-related issues."

She trails off, and I feel a flush of anger towards her. How can she visit other people when she refused to acknowledge her own son, who needed her more than anyone? How can she

Before I can open my mouth, she adds. "Come with me, and I'll explain everything, Eli." Her eyes are round and pleading, and even though I want to, I can't say no. When I give the slightest of nods, she relaxes visibly and leads me away from the emergency lobby. She takes me down a hall to a different waiting room and smiles at the nurse behind the desk before turning to face me again.

"This is usually where they house patients who need psychiatric help as well," she explains, folding her arms around her small torso. "There's a coffee bar just outside where we can sit and talk."

I hadn't realized until now how small and frail she is. She's always been this severe, pointed woman you don't cross. Yet, seeing her standing in the middle of the hospital, that severity is gone. Exhausted, thinly covered bags under her eyes, and sunken cheeks. I don't remember her being quite so short, but I tower over her.

My mom moves to the doors to the right, and I follow, but not before glancing back at the ward we were just standing in. Had Dan been in there before? Had Atlas? June had said Atlas wound up in the hospital before he got clean. Had he been admitted into that unit? The thought makes me surprisingly queasy.

"So, you volunteer here, but when your own son needed help, you ignored him?" I ask, my voice quiet.

"It's not what you think," she sighs as we enter a small food court.

Well, it's not really a food court, more like a coffee bar with a small vendor selling food. A few tables are making it feel more like a staff room than a casual seating area.

My mom ushers me to an empty table, then fumbles with her purse. "Just, give me a moment, okay?"

She hurries to grab a couple of coffees and then hands one over to me. I don't know when people have started buying coffee as a form of comfort for me, but I couldn't stomach the coffee earlier, and I certainly cannot now.