Page 3 of Say He's Ready
that’s fair. That’s not how I rock.” It seemed like, since his mother passed away, something snapped within his tiny brain. I was now bombarded daily with notes of Malone being less than an exemplary student. It didn’t help that he went to one of the most prestigious elementary schools in Coupeville.
The students were expected to be the best in the state, groomed for greatness. Malone didn’t know how to act but he was a child prodigy. It was those smarts that even allowed him the opportunity to attend such a school. If his attitude didn’t change, they would be kicking him out. I just knew it was coming.
Speeding and running all the lights along the way was me giving my best attempt to stop it from happening. Malone couldn’t be removed from the school his mother worked so hard to prepare him for, this was what she wanted. Leslie wanted him to attend a school that would set him up for life. I wanted that for my son also, but I knew Mal would thrive anywhere.
“Mr. McGraw, listen I know it’s hard raising him by yourself, but, Malone, is only a few strikes away from getting kicked out the program. That would be devastating because he’s a brilliant boy,” my hazel orbs rolled to the top of my head and I exhaled. I was on my way even though traffic was on the level of Atlanta. Cars were all over and it was lunchtime rush and people filled the streets at every intersection. It seemed like the small city had turned into a new metropolis overnight. “We are growing every day and we have a long waiting list. It’s time for him to take his blessing seriously.”
I disconnected the line before she pissed me off further. True, it was a blessing that he was in the program. But he earned that spot fair and square. My son wasn’t some fucking charity case. Malone could read on a sixth-grade level, he could write in
cursive before he was enrolled, and his math skillswere off the charts. My son was a damn beast with his education. He paid his dues, and he earned that spot. The blessing was on Coupeville Prep for having the ability to teach him and be around such greatness. It wasn’t the other way around. Fuck what Ms. Norwood was talking.
“Lord, I need just a little patience,” I mumbled as I continued to drive and ponder. I was doing something wrong, but I just couldn’t pinpoint exactly what I was doing at the moment. I wanted to do better for Malone, but it was like swimming in tar, attempting to migrate through the mess I created.
Leslie was gone, and it was just Malone and me with a few friends and family members scattered between us. Malone was six years old when she passed away from a brain aneurysm. We had no indication that there was a problem or that she would be gone in the blink of an eye. I drove, and that painful memory came to my mind like a movie on the big screen.
The pasta was boiling rapidly as I watched my wife grab her head in pain, “Babe something is wrong. I haven’t had a migraine like this in years.”
She hadn’t had a migraine in years, this was news to me. We had been together for so long I thought I knew everything there was to know about her. Standing to my feet, I met her at the stove. I noticed that she looked flushed and sweat pooled around her forehead profusely. “Hey, talk to me, tell me what’s going on?”
“I don’t know but I don’t feel good, can you try not to burn the pasta? I need to lay down,” she asked with a slight giggle. I was no cook and she knew that. But for her, I would give anything a shot. I watched her meander to the back. Like the mother she was, she peeked in on Malone who was playing with his new toys silently.
“Get some rest, I got him,” I urged catching her before she entered his room.
An hour passed, and dinner was done. Spaghetti, burnt garlic bread, and salad. I tried my best at making the spaghetti taste just like hers. The kitchen was a mess from my attempt to prepare dinner. I knew she would be fire hot but wouldn’t complain much. That wasn’t her style.
“Aye, mi familia it’s time to taste the best spaghetti you’ve ever had in your life,” I said clapping my hands and hitting Malone’s door first.Bright-eyed Malone rose to his feet leaving his action figures behind. He grabbed my hand and we took off for the dining room. Malone’s plate was already prepared, and I was going to serve my wife in bed.
“Daddy, it doesn’t look so good,” young Malone admitted. His filter was permanently broken but I didn’t mind. I wanted my son to grow up honest. Lies couldn’t live in the heart of a man. Real men kept it real at all times.
“I know but mommy isn’t feeling that good, so chef boy- R- daddy had to come through in the clutch. I’ll be right back, gotta take mommy her plate.”
Stepping into our massive bedroom, it was pitch black. It was so dark I could barely make out where the bed was. I knew turning the light on would potentially make her migraine worse. With that thought, I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and used my flashlight. I was always considerate of Leslie. It didn’t matter the situation, I thought of her first.
“Babe, I brought you dinner. You need to eat something,” I spoke but got no response. Sitting on the side of the bed, she didn’t stir. I tapped her body and she was plum cold. Jumping to my feet I hit the lamp on the side of the bed and was met with an unresponsive Leslie.
“Babe, wake up, let me know you can hear me.” I got nothing and that sent me in a panic. Kicking into high gear I checked her pulse and found nothing. Calling 911 the best I could I let them know something was wrong. The more they continued to remind me to remain calm the harder my chest thumped.
“Sir we need you to try CPR, we have units in route,” the dispatcher spoke.
Frantically, I dropped my phone and started administering CPR to her lifeless body. Tears sprung to my eyes and worry settled at the pit of my stomach. I was trying to so hard to revive her that I broke a sweat.
“No God, please no,” I said breathing into her mouth. Pumping more and more my arms were starting to hurt but I wouldn’t dare give up on her. Someone would have to tell me that she was gone before I gave up. But within the blink of an eye, those words slipped from the mouth of the EMT’s that I hadn’t even noticed came in
Stepping back, my chest felt like it was going to bust completely open. At any second, my chest would pop and combust from the fire inside. Iwanted to scream, shout, fuck something up, but before it could happen, God spoke to me and told me to get to Malone.
Searching the dining room, I found my son shivering in the pantry with a tear-stained face, “I’m sorry, bud, I tried. I swear I tried so hard.”
Night seemed to become morning as me and Malone sat in the pantry together. Tears clouded my vision and Malone not understanding what just transpired made me want to rip my heart out. I wished death upon myself, I wished I had the balls to burn the house down. It wasn’t a home without her dwelling in it. But I had Malone. I had someone that couldn’t afford to be left alone. I had to crawl from the pantry and become the mother and father.
“We will be ok, she taught me well,” I whispered into a sleeping Malone’s ear. Rising to my feet, I decided I couldn’t look back. I had to get it together and handle my responsibilities.
Our life got turned upside down within seconds. Still to this day I hadn’t figured shit out. Some shit could never be repaired, her death was one of those things that would never leave my mind. Right now I needed someone to exercise some tolerance and compassion before the few marbles I had left scattered.
The way I felt hearing the words ‘She’s gone’ were only multiplied by a thousand when I had to repeat those words to our son. She was always working with him and ensuring he was the next Einstein. Malone was well aware of what death was and the magnitude it carried. It meant mom wasn’t coming back, it meant no more games with flash cards, and it meant we would have to figure it out on our own. That destroyed the foundation of our family beyond restoration. Even with me being a repairman I couldn’t mend that with tape, I couldn’t restore it with a little paint, it was unreconcilable.
“Fuck,” I said, hitting the steering wheel just thinking about all we went through. Life was beating me down and stressing me out. I had no clue what I was going to do with Malone for the rest of the day. Work didn’t stop and not all of my clients appreciated having a smart mouth kid around. He was the type of kid that had a question for everything. Most of our time was spent googling the answers to his far-fetched or left field questions. I was no genius like his mother. I couldn’t keep up with the magnitude of knowledge he possessed. I barely made it out ofcollege. Had it not been for Leslie agreeing to help me then, my life would have ended up differently.
No matter how hard I tried, thoughts and memories of her flooded my mind. She was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Every piece of me was attached to her in some way. The degree on the mantle reminded me of her helping spirit. She cared about my success so much that she spent countless nights helping me study. She didn’t need it. Leslie was much like Malone: brilliant.
