On the morning of Monday, June 16th, I was awakened by a knock on my front door. It was still dark outside as the lamppost had almost backed out and I groggily shuffled to answer it. A man in his mid-twenties stood there holding an empty milk carton. His clothes looked like they'd been slept in. He wore brown corduroy pants, black socks, and shoes.
"You must be Jim," I said. "I'm Michael." We shook hands and I invited him inside. "Well, now that you're here, why don't you have a seat?" I gestured toward the couch. I told him he could make himself at home while I went into the kitchen to fix us some coffee.
He took off his baseball cap and set it down next to him on the floor. Then he pulled up a chair and sat down while staring at the painting on the wall.
"So tell me, Michael," he began, "how's life treating you and your mum these days?"
"Not too bad," I lied, then added:
"How about you? You seem pretty beat up to me."
"Oh, just working hard as a blacksmith trying to pay the bills and stuff." He laughed. "It's tough though. My wife left me a couple of months ago and she won't let me see our kids because she says I'm an unfit father." He shrugged and scratched his head.
Source
I poured two cups of coffee and handed him one. "So how did you meet my mom?"
"We met through mutual friends," he replied. "They introduced us a few years ago."
I sat down next to him on the couch.
"What do your friends say about her?"
"Mostly good things. She's a great cook and a decent person. They also tell me she's a lot smarter too."
"Really?"
"Yes." He grinned.
I smiled. "You have no idea how much I wish I could get her to talk about everything."
He raised his eyebrows. "Why's that?"
I sighed. "Because then maybe I would understand what happened to Dad and we could finally move past it."
"I'm sorry to hear that." He put his hand on my shoulder. "My heart goes out to you."
"Thanks," I mumbled.
"Look," he said, "I hate to pry but I think I know something that might help you."
"Go ahead," I said.
"Your mother has a visitor coming over later today. A man named Harold Talbot."
I frowned and shook my head.
"Harold? Why will he be visiting her?"
Jim shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he wants to talk to her.
Do you think you could check on her just to be sure she's okay?"
"Sure," I agreed. "I'll do it.
"Well, I'll talk to you later then."
He nodded and rose to go
I headed upstairs, and as I approached the guest room where Mom slept I heard loud voices quarrelling over dad's coffee estate inside. I peeked into the open doorway and saw Mom standing by her bed talking to a tall balding man dressed in black. Her eyes darted between the man and the floor repeatedly.
The man was staring at her intensely. His piercing blue eyes seemed to penetrate straight through her. My stomach churned when I realized this guy must be the man who killed Dad. He must done that because he wanted to take over dad's coffee estate.
Suddenly the man looked up and locked his gaze on mine. It felt like an electric current ran through my body as our eyes connected. This man was dangerous. I shivered.
Then the man looked away and immediately stepped back and nodded. Then he turned and walked out of the room towards the cellar door without saying another word.
I was tempted to run off to the toolshed and fetch a good tool to destroy the man who took my dad away from me because of a mere plantation but I held back when I turned to look at my mum.
I didn't want her to lose another man in her life. I wanted her to find happiness and love. But I couldn't blame her for falling apart every time she remembers losing one of them.
She walked over to the window and stared out at the yard. I followed her gaze and found nothing there. I walked over to her and held her close.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I can't believe I lost your dad. You know I loved him very much, right?"
I pulled back slightly and looked at her. "Of course, I know that. We all did."
She continued gazing out the window.
"And now I've been closed to losing you too."
"Mum," I said softly. "Don't say that again. Please."
Her voice trembled. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"It's okay," I said. "I forgive you."
"Thank you, sweetie," she said. "Now I need to figure out what to do next. How am I supposed to live without your father? He was everything to me. Without him, I feel empty inside. Like I have no purpose anymore."
I hugged her again and kissed her cheek. "You're not alone Mum. There are plenty of people who love you and would never leave you. Don't worry."
She smiled and looked at me.
" What are we going to do about Mr. Talbot, Mum? " I asked.
"What do you mean?" she replied.
"Well, he has to pay for taking dad from us. I replied.
"We don't know if he's guilty or not yet," she said. "Until we prove it, we can't arrest him. The police won't help us until they know for sure.
She hugged me once more and then left the room. I watched her walk slowly across the hall to her bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed and pondered how I could deal with Mr. Talbot. Maybe I should just give up. And allow fate to take charge as my mum's happiness was more important than any revenge.
