The line comes to life as her mother's tired voice echoes through. "Hey baby." Her face twists in disgust and joy.
Allura sits on the couch with her hands cradling the phone. They tremble as she listens to the line ring, waiting. Sweat rolls down her neck as she glances at the television. It's the first time in a long time that she's alone. All alone. Her eyes swell with tears that refuse to fall. Pussy, she harshly thinks as she slaps them away again. It's her stepfathers voice before the slap lands on her cheek.
She continues the ritual even in his absence.
"What happened?" Her mother's voice spikes with concern.
"Hi mommy," she says on the brink of tears. "Um, Auntie Cosy ain't ... doin too good." She rubs her forehead roughly as all the memories of the day come back to her.
The crickets outside scream louder in the hear. The frogs croak in conversation. Their lives go on. The world still goes on.
Allura sits quietly. She remembers the times when that concern was only designated to man that gave her mother pleasure, or money. She remembers when that voice was reserved for the moment before she became condescending. 'What happened? Are you proud of yourself?' Age softened her around the edges, as did death.
"Her legs stopped working? She went to stand up to go to the bathroom and she hit her head on the way down. I- I came home and she was- she wasn't wakin up. I called the ambulance and they said the treatments ain't- it ain't been workin for a while."
There's a silence. Life outside goes on. The lovers on TV go on.
She shrugs, rubbing her jaw then. It's been years since she felt hairs there but she remembers the pricks of a fresh shave against her palm. "They say weeks? Maybe? Three months if we're real lucky."
Her mother curses in French as she shuffles around for a moment. "That mean I need to come up there?"
Heat rushes up her neck as she thinks if Love meeting the spitting image of her. She thinks of Malcolm seeing the resemblance and complimenting her, calling her pretty. She thinks of Benson.
"I was actually thinkin of comin down there for a bit? Figured since you had power of attorney, maybe you could sign it over to me since I'm here with her and we could call insurance and the family." There isn't much family left. There's a grandfather who's too old to ear and a great uncle who sided with her brother after her transition. "I think I need a little time to come home."
The older woman scoffs. "What're you runnin from?"
The question isn't a new one. Even after her ex-husband. Even after her step-father. Even after the hospital. None of it was ever her fault, but her mother had other believes. Never could she believe her daughter.
"Allura," she corrects more sternly.
"Allura," she repeats with a kindness that only exemplifies her exhaustion. "Your brother just came into town."
She was dead to him. "Mommy, I really need to- I have to come home. I can't do everything alone and I need you to sign off on these papers."
She sighs. Always one with a sigh. As if Allura is unreasonable. "Okay, he's leavin out Sunday. Can we wait til then?"
"Of course. Parfait. Thank you." She wants a hug. She needs a hug. Her arm wraps around her own stomach as she aches. She needs comfort. She needs her mother.
"You not comin back married again, are you?" A dagger to the heart would hurt less. Another shot to the chest would deal more love than this. "I ain't got space for you and some man."
"There's always some man. You ain't never gone a day of your life without some man to keep you warm." Monkey see, monkey do. "I'm tellin you. I don't want none of that in this house."
"There's no man." Each word carries a bite. She wishes she had fangs filled with venom.
"Mm, well, don't bring that usual bullshit here either. No sellin drugs, none of that racin bullshit, no sex, tits and- and dick all out, none of it. Leave your drama up there, you hear me?"
Always the punching bag. Always at fault. Her bruises seep down to the bone.
"I'ma need some groceries, too. Mathieu got some when he got here so you can buy em yourself when you get here or send me the money." She knew if she sent the money the casino would see it first. Her boyfriend would see it second. The grocery store wouldn't even know her face. The liquor store would know her by smell alone.
"I'll buy some when I get there."
They share a silence. There's too many emotions sitting between them, but none are said. None from Allura, at least.
"Alright, then. I'll see you Sunday. Make sure you bring all her paperwork. Find a lawyer, too."
The line goes dead. Her mother fades out to become another voice in her head like all the others. Allura drops the phone on the couch. She wants to swallow up the anger, she wants to lash out. She wants to scream at the top of her lungs until her heart is thumping and begging for her to stop. Instead, she sits silently. Eyes on the television as the couple embrace each other in a tight hug and whisper.
