Will and Pam were laying on the living room floor, fully clothed, and wrapped into each other's bodies, listening to John Coltrane's A Love Supreme.
It was almost midnight, but they were too energized by their vibe to be sleepy.
The telephone suddenly began to ring. Pam slowly stood up, walked to it, and answered, "Hello?"
"I need my son," Mrs. Meyers said through a sob.
"Are you okay?" Pam asked. Her mind was racing.
"I need Wi-" the phone disconnected, cutting off Mrs. Meyers' statement.
Pam looked at Will, and said, "It was your mom. She's crying. She says she needs you."
Will ran over to her and grabbed the phone.
"She was trying to talk, but the phone hung up."
"Fuck!" Will yelled, grabbing his keys and sticking his feet into his slides. He unlocked the door, opened it, and ran to his jeep. Pam ran behind him and sat in the front seat.
Will was driving so fast, the tires screeched.
"Calm down, baby. Slow down," Pam told him.
He ignored her, and kept on speeding.
"Will!" Pam screamed.
He slowed down a bit, and forced himself to not drive pass the red stoplight.
The light finally turned green, and Will zoomed through it. After a few minutes of silence, they made it to Will's parents' house.
"Stay in here," he told Pam, as he got out of the car. Pam nodded, even though Will couldn't see her. She was shaking, nervous.
Will banged on the door. He could hear his mother crying.
"Open the door," Will shouted.
"Dry your fucking tears," Mr. Meyers shouted at Will's mother.
The door flew open, and Will stood face to face with his father. They were both angry, breathing heavily.
Pam could see right through the opened door.
Will looked at his mother, who was balled up into a corner, crying, with a black eye, a swollen jaw, and dark bruises all over her.
He then looked at his father and punched him in the face. Will didn't stop pounding his fists into his face until he was on the floor.
"Don't do this, Will. Don't hurt your father, William!" Mrs. Meyers screamed.
"Go get in the car!" Will told her.
Mrs. Meyers ran outside and into the backseat of Will's jeep.
"Oh my gosh," Pam exclaimed, while tears filled her eyes as she saw Mrs. Meyers' abused body.
Mrs. Meyers sobbed. "Do you have a cellphone?"
"Yes," Pam responded, handing it to her.
Mrs. Meyers called Zavier's cellphone.
"Zavier, your brother and your father are fighting," she cried, then hung up.
"You should press charges," Pam said.
Mrs. Meyers shook her head, disagreeing.
Will's father grabbed him by the shirt and threw him to the floor. Will stood up and walked up to him.
"The fuck is wrong with you? I'm sick of this shit! That's all you fucking do is beat on us. The fuck is your problem?"
"You and your fucking brother always wanna take your mother's side. I'm always getting the blame!"
"You are the fucking blame! How you gon' beat on your wife? You think that shit is cool? Man, fuck you! You ain't my fucking father!"
Will tried to walk out of the house, but his father pulled him by his shirt, and got up close into his face.
"As long as you have life, and as long as I have life, I am your fucking father. And as long as your mother is breathing, she's still my fucking wife," Mr. Meyers said.
Will glared at him, and he released his shirt.
"Evil-ass motherfucker," Will said, walking out of the house.
As soon as Will stepped out, Zavier and Isaac pulled into the driveway.
Zavier knocked on the window, and Mrs. Meyers rolled it down, and stared at him. The car's lights allowed him to see her clearly.
He shook his head, and was about to walk towards the house, until Will held him back.
"Fuck him. I already dealt with his ass," Will said.
Isaac held Mrs. Meyers' hands and rubbed them gently.
Zavier looked at her, and asked, "You want us to pack your stuff?"
She shook her head. "No. He goes to work tomorrow. We'll come back and get them tomorrow."
"Alright, ma," Zavier said. He looked at Will, then he looked at the house. He then walked back to Isaac's car.
"I'll see y'all later," Isaac said, then looked at his aunt. "You should call moms," he said, telling her to call her sister.
Mrs. Meyers nodded, then Isaac walked to his car.
Will sat down in his jeep, and Pam immediately held his face, and started looking all over him.
"I'm aight," Will said in a low tone.
Pam still looked at him anyways. He didn't have any bruises.
"Do you wanna go to the hospital?" Pam asked Mrs. Meyers.
She quickly responded, "No."
They rode to Pam and Will's house.
Pam boiled some warm salted water, took out a washcloth, and a bottle of essential oil.
Will and his mother were sitting in the living room in complete silence, until Will spoke, "Why you let him do this to you, ma? Why you stayed with him for so long?"
Mrs. Meyers began to cry again.
Pam walked in. She looked at Mrs. Meyers, and without a word, sat down beside her, and began to wipe and gently pat her face with the warm washcloth.
She dipped it into the bowl, squeezed out the excess water, and applied it to Mrs. Meyers' face again.
"Thank you," Mrs. Meyers said.
Pam nodded.
Pam finished wiping down her face and skin, and rubbed her down with the essential oil.
Will watched them.
Mrs. Meyers wrapped her arms around her, and they hugged for a few seconds.
"I love you, Pam. I was just jealous, and upset that Will left home and got married. I wanted to hold on to him for as long as I could. And lately, I've been missing him and Zavier being home. I apologize for the way I've been acting towards you," Mrs. Meyers told her.
Pam rubbed her hand, and said, "I understand."
Mrs. Meyers looked down at the floor, and said, "I'm so tired of being hurt. All I did was come home late. I went out with my friends, and he didn't recognize the car that dropped me off, so he started fussing at me. We started arguing and then he started beating me." She sobbed. "All I ever did was love your father, Will. I've been loving him since I was nineteen years old. That's twenty-nine years of abuse. I'm just so sorry that he used to hurt you and your brother. I'm sorry."
Will got up and walked over to her. She stood up, wrapped her arms around his body, and cried into his shirt.
"Don't cry, ma. Don't cry," he told her as he hugged her small, petite frame.
She kept on sobbing.
Pam watched them, and tears slipped from her eyes.
