The Things We Do

THIRTY THREE

Beatrice Akindele stood firm, rigid, and rooted to the floor as usual but Dele could see her tensed demeanor in the way she twisted her fingers while standing before her husband.

When she didn't respond, Mr. Akindele walked over to the large dining where a small shelf containing his assortment of liquor was positioned on the wall.

Dele stood next to his mother, watching as she stood in the exact spot in the middle of the living room where his father had left them. They both nearly jumped out of their skin when his father yelled his mother's name again.

"Beatrice!" Mr. Akindele shouted walking back into the sitting room with a large empty bottle. "What's the meaning of this?" he asked, raising the empty bottle in the air for them to see. His eyes had turned red.

"Uh..." Beatrice trailed. "Dear, the scotch is finished. You took the last one before leaving the other day."

Dele knew scotch was his father's favourite drink and he went mad during times like this. When he'd run out.

"So?" Mr. Akindele asked, inching closer to his wife, the empty bottle in his hands. "Shy didn't you get another one? You knew it was finished and you didn't care! You wanted me to come home and have nothing to drink, right?"

"Dear," Beatrice called out the let name she used for her husband in almost a whisper, "that wasn't my intention at all. It simply slipped my mind."

"It skipped your mind..." He scoffed.

"Dear, calm down. I can go down to the middle ring and get you another bottle right-"

Beatrice didn't get to finish her statement because the next thing she knew, the big bottle made of thick glass was flying towards her and her twelve-year-old son. She had taken cover. She had to protect.

The scream of mother and son as the bottle landed next to them and the pieces danced on their feet after it shattered with a deafening sound.

Dele screamed more and began crying. He had been the only one who was barefooted and he wished at that moment that he could fly above the pieces of glass that pierced his flesh. Suddenly, there was nowhere to step on and his blood dripped on the broken glass.

He didn't know how his mother managed it but at that moment, she lifted him with tears in her eyes and ran out of the sitting room. His father kept yelling for her to come back that instant but she didn't turn back.

That would be the first time Beatrice disobeyed her husband. Because of her child.

Soon, they were sitting on Dele's bed after she had locked the door behind.

Dele couldn't help it. He cried as his mother treated his wounds and his father banged on his door, demanding that they come out. Dele was scared and he couldn't stop crying.

Beatrice didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say but what she knew was that she couldn't cry. Not anymore. Not while her son was here.

She stayed there with Dele for hours. Soon it was night time and sooner or later, she'd have to go out and face her husband. The thought of it made a tear roll down her cheek but she quickly wiped it and wrapped her hand around Dele as they laid on his bed, in the same position they'd been in for hours.

"Are you hungry?" Beatrice broke the silence.

Dele kept quiet for a while.

Yes, he was hungry but he wasn't going to let his mother know that. His being hungry meant she would have to get him food and her getting him food meant she'd have to go out and meet that beast.