ABC - Penance

Somewhere over the Rainbow

I ran as fast as I could, my schoolbag bashing into my side as I scaled the stairs in our apartment building two at a time. The streets behind me were chaotic, people running and yelling, some rushing into their homes and others carrying bags and household items in desperate frenzy as they headed away from the City centre.

“Mama!” I yelled breathlessly when I unlocked the apartment door. “Mama! I’m home!”

I kicked off my school shoes, the black ones Papa had bought specially for me in a fancy shoe store. They had animal prints in the soles, so whenever I walked over sand or dirt it was like I was a tiger, stalking my prey in the alleys of Mexico City.

“Mama?” I called out again, dropping my heavy bag in the hallway. I heard a strange, painful grunt from the kitchen so I headed that way, curious to see why my mother wasn’t answering me. She was always home, waiting for me to finish school and give me a tasty afternoon snack.

She would be surprised I was home so early, since our teachers had released us two hours ahead of the regular time. They had been acting really funny all week and today was the topper. The TV screens had been on all day in the Teacher’s Staffroom, with even my elderly teacher Mrs Amira fretful and tense all through our lessons. A young male teacher, Mr Cortez from the United States, had been relaying secret messages to Mrs Amira through the morning, whispering urgently into her ear.

The other kids in my class, the handful of us who had turned up today, all reckoned the handsome Anglo had a crush on the voluptuous Mrs Amira, even if she had to be like a hundred years old.

Finally, about an hour after lunch the School Principal, Mr Hernandez, came to each classroom. He had a whispered discussion with our teacher, who had sat down heavily with her tan face an uncharacteristic white.

“Go home children!” she had announced. “There is an emergency in the city, so everyone is to go straight home and stay there. Do you understand me?”

We had babbled all sorts of confused questions, our excitement rising despite the worried looks of all the teachers and staff. They had ushered us out of the school without really answering, warning us over and over to go home as fast as we could.

I loved to run but Papa had forbidden me to scuff or scrape my fancy new shoes. When Mrs Amira saw me set off at the slow pace Papa approved of, she had rushed to me and told me to run as fast as I could, not to stop until I was safe at home.

“Run, Luisa!” she had urged me. “Don’t worry about your shoes. Your Papa will forgive you!”

So I had run, ducking and weaving through the excited crowds on the street like the stout little sprinter I was.

“Mama?” I called out again as I walked into our cosy kitchen. This was Mama’s domain, where even my fearsome Papa had to obey her commands. “Are you in here?”

A strangled grunt came in reply and I saw her huddled in the narrow space beside the refrigerator, a space she normally used to stand the mop and broom and other cleaning items. Those were scattered across the kitchen floor, with my mother’s legs tangled amongst them. She was facing away from me, her head and arms tucked into the tight corner like a frightened mouse.

“I’m home, Mama” I said to her, lifting my arms towards her uncertainly. “Are you sick? Do you need me to call a doctor?”

There had been a lot of sick people lately. We had heard some of them yelling and crying through the apartment walls, crashing and thumping until the Police or the Ambulance came to take them away.

My mother made a guttural sound, like she was choking on something. I rushed to her and laid my hand on her arm, feeling the unnatural heat in her flesh. I had a bad fever once and I was certain Mama had one now. I was only six years old, but I knew a fever could be bad and my heart raced with fear.

“Mama, what should I do?” I begged her.

Mama turned to me at last, her head twisting like it belonged to another body and regarded me. Her face looked like an icecream that had melted in the sun, her beautiful features all lopsided and drooping. I screamed and backed away, denying this could be my wonderful mother.

Like a snake she unwound herself from the floor, her red-rimmed eyes observing me in a way that made me fearful. Her arms reached for me, long red welts and sores visible on her tan skin. Drool ran down her chin, tinged with red like blood, staining her apron and blouse.

I should have run, I knew that, but this was my Mama. The one person in the whole world whom I loved more than anyone, even my dear Papa. She reached for me, her hands grasping like the claws of an animal. Tears were streaming down my face as I surrendered to whatever my mother wanted from me.

My eyes closed, feeling her foetid breath wash over my trembling body.

“Luisa!” shouted my Papa and I felt his strong arms snatch me up from the floor. He smelled of concrete dust and sweat, like he always did when he got home from the construction sites. He dragged me from the kitchen and laid me gently on my bed, then closed the door to my bedroom.

“Wait here, Luisa” he said before he shut the door.

I huddled in terror on my bed, clutching a stuffed dol to my chest that Mama made me last year. Screams sounded from beyond the closed door, chilling and inhuman. I heard my Papa call my Mama’s name, pleading and begging, then there was a single loud noise and all was silent.

I waited and waited, minutes passing, then a heavy tread sounded from the corridor beyond. With a cry I pulled my bed covers over me, hiding in utter terror in the close darkness.

“Luisa?” called Papa. “Luisa, we need to go”

I peeked out from the covers, seeing my Papa leaning like a drunkard against my open door.

“Where’s Mama?” I demanded, staying in the protection of my bed. “I won’t go without Mama”

Papa’s face twisted in anguish, a tear forming in his eye. My father had never cried in my entire life, this moment filling me with a strange sensation.

“Mama had to leave us” he replied in halting sentences. “She said not to worry, she’ll find us again later. But we have to go now Luisa”

He came into my room and drew back the covers, his hand leaving crimson stains on the sheets. Without a sound, I let him lift me up and hold me in his strong arms. As he carried me down the corridor, I caught a glimpse of a single foot protruding past the doorway into the kitchen. The foot was wearing one of Mama’s house shoes, a pretty green pair that Papa and I had given her for last Christmas.

I was only six years old and I knew my father had killed my mother. He did it to protect me, to protect us both. It was the Virus I discovered later, the terrible infection that Changed all of us across the world.

Papa and I had been spared the awful Changes that had been wrought on my Mama, yet both of us carried the scars of that day for the rest of our lives.