Collection of Older Works

Flashbacks of a Fool: Chapter Twenty-One {Part Two}

The sweetest sounds to mortals given

Are heard in Mother, Home, and Heaven.

~William Goldsmith Brown

 {Part Two}

Viciously tearing herself from his grip, Mrs. Hawkins shuffled back, her movements swift. Without a sliver of emotion, she branded Nathaniel with her glare, breathing, “Yes, You are a fool,” her acidic words shattering the silence. And then, with fury glinting in her eyes, to his utter shock she added, “A fool, just like your father.”

The words hit Nathaniel like lightning, draining all air from his lungs. Winded, he scowled at her. He was an honorable man but this—this threatened all virtues! Pressing clenched fists to his temples, Nathaniel struggled; he struggled because finally there was no doubting his mother’s wickedness. He strained because fury caused control to waver and she didn’t deny it! Dammit, she—his own mother—didn’t renounce that was the shrouded figure, the unmentionable devil of all misery!

His breaths becoming more labored, Nathaniel shivered, seeking words but white wrath tightened his throat, leaving him wordless, breathless; millions of questions flooding his brain; Why did she do it? How could she do it? What was her cause, her reason? Was it madness? Was it something he did?  Dammit all, was he not her own son? Her own blood?!

But in the outbreak of erratic thoughts, an inner voice whispered painfully,

Did it matter anymore?

Yes! Because was the bond between mother and child not sanctified? Was blood not most sacred in life? But then in meeting his mother’s icy yet withdrawn glare, his conscience rebutted,

Was it too sacred in madness?

Nathaniel cursed and cursed again. Banishing the confusing convictions, he forced himself to focus on the deranged woman whose face he once knew yet stood before him as—who the hell was she anymore?

Silent, she paced from him; her demeanor unnaturally collected despite the matter at hand. Remorse evaded her face, as did guilt elude her manner. No, she felt nothing, of that Nathaniel was sure as he watched her in nauseating fury. Noting his glare, she spun wildly, “Don’t you dare look at me that way! You have no right!” She muttered lowly through clenched teeth, “You dare cast your judgment on me--I am still your mother and everything I have done has been for you!”

What the hell did she just say?

She raged on angrily; Disturbed, “Yet you stand ready to cast me aside for her—after all I’ve done for you!” she shivered, “Like your father, just like your father.”

With fists tightly clenched, Nathaniel stared on, delayed by disbelief as her voice reduced to a whisper; fingers gathering hungrily at her mouth “He thought I didn’t know,” she nodded frantically, “but I knew...I knew.”

Her expressionless eyes misted into memory; a haunting look of despise and vulnerability surfacing. Suddenly Nathaniel watched in horror as his mother lowered slowly onto the floor, the scattered letters surrounding her like dead flowers. Settling back on her knees, she fell into an eerie rocking, slowly, back and forth, her eyes cast aside in distant memory. Nathaniel went cold all over. Right before his eyes, the woman whom he’d once regarded as mother lost herself into her mind, becoming childlike in demeanor and mannerisms. God help him…

A shudder afflicted Nathaniel. The intentions to rip her from the floor and drag her to the magistrate were all there. As were the constant offerings of his doubtful half whispering,

Perhaps she fakes it…

But in beholding his mother, Nathaniel’s blood congealed. No, she did not forge her madness. The woman who existed before with the flawless performance of sanity was the true farce but this one; the one rocked back and forth, stroking her curls while humming a gentle tune was his real mother. The sight shattered him, all but ridding anger from his bones replacing it with profound ache…