Excerpt: Small Mercies

A shadow from outside the car stirred me from my current reverie. It was only for a split second that I was startled, because, as the figure came closer, the thin frame and full, thick hair became more than familiar. My mother opened the front door of our Chevy and, with a small grunt, threw three suitcases into the passenger side. I assumed they held a few days’ worth of clothes and necessities, not to mention a good portion of the “emergency” money we had stored away – if there was any left. She quickly slid into the driver’s seat and closed the door. A silence passed as she gazed back at out little house, probably thinking about the many previous times she had gone through the same ritual. With a sigh, she leaned her forehead against the steering wheel. Any lesser women would have wept.
I knew better than to speak, especially after what my mother had gone through just an hour or so prior. After a rather heated argument with my father, she had told my sister and I to go out to the car and wait. We had followed her words without any question. Molly had long since drifted off, as I had been too caught up in my own thoughts to be much of a conversationalist. It probably would have been wise to try to sleep as well.
My mother finally straightened up and reached over toward the suitcases, where she had packed a folded blanket. While on her knees, she turned to the back of the car and bent to cover my sister and me up. I had already laid back and was feigning sleep, even before she had closed the door of the car. After laying the quilt across our shoulders and laps, she paused.
“Briar?” she whispered.
Damn. I should have known I wouldn’t be able to fool her. “Yeah, Mama?” My voice wasn’t any louder than hers.
“I thought you were awake. Did I wake you, Honey?”
I shook my head. “Naw.”
My Mama nodded slightly and folded her arms against the back of the front seat, then rested her head. She glanced over at Molly for a moment before turned her gaze back to me. “Are you alright, Honey?”
I wondered why in the world she was asking me that when clearly she was the one who was struggling with the tumultuous emotions roaring within her heart. But that was my Mama. Molly and I were always her first priority. “I’m fine.” The brisk wind outside blew the clouds away from the nearly full moon, and the resulting light gave me a clearer view of my mother’s pained expression. “What about you?”
She sighed once more but gave me a forced smile. “Everything will work out,” she replied, avoiding the topic of her own feelings. “It always does.”
“Where are we going?” I asked after a moment, deciding that it was better not to press her to reveal her thoughts prematurely.
“To your Aunt Francine’s,” Mama replied. “I called her a few minutes ago, and she’s gonna get a few pallets ready for us. It’ll be a tight fit, but we’ve all slept under the same roof before.”
Again, I nodded. I knew we would be heading to either Aunt Francine’s or one of my uncles house, but I secretly was relieved that we would be staying with the former. Aunt Francine’s place was a lot cleaner than my uncles and she made for much better company. When we stayed at Uncle Grant’s one time for the same reason, he wouldn’t stop carrying on about how Mama should leave Daddy for good – either that or that he would head over to our house himself and shoot Daddy while he slept. Aunt Francine knew what Mama was going through, though, so she was much more understanding. She never lectured and was always there to listen when Mama needed to talk – which was what she needed most at times like these.
Mama turned back around and shoved the keys into the ignition. The engine roared to life and within minutes we had pulled away from our house and was heading toward the south side of town. Mama was quiet as she drove and so was I. I pulled the covers more tightly around me, trying to keep the chill in the car at bay. Molly groaned slightly when we made a sharp turn and moved in her sleep, her head resting on my shoulder. I didn’t mind. In fact, it was somewhat comforting.
I rested me head against the door and watched as our small town, enveloped in the darkness of night, flew past the window. We were passing our neighbors houses, and though the majority of the houses were dark at the late hour, there were still the occasional living room or bedroom lights on. In the distance, I caught some movement from behind a curtain in a living room. I knew what would by morning from experience. Without a doubt, the news of my Mama leaving my Daddy would have spread across the town before the Sunday sermon began.