Reclaiming Angelica

A sound woke him. The door? Did someone leave?

Raul listened harder. A sob. Someone was crying.

He wasn’t supposed to get out of bed once Momma tucked him in, but who was crying? It didn’t sound like Momma.

Poppa?

He raised his hands and knuckled his eyes clear of the sleepiness. Grabbing his stuffed puppy—Momma said they couldn’t have a real dog, not in the apartment, and bought him Ruffy instead—he climbed out of bed and stepped lightly to the door. Maybe if he was really quiet, Momma wouldn’t catch him, and he could find out who was crying and hop back into bed before she noticed he’d gotten up.

Poppa told Momma to leave his door cracked so the light from the hall could shine inside because Raul didn’t like the dark. He was too old to be scared of the dark. Only babies were afraid of the dark, and he was a big boy. Momma said so because he was starting school next year.

Raul peeped through the door but couldn’t see anything. It sounded like the noise was coming from the living room.

He eased down the carpeted hallway to the living room, his bare feet making no sound, dragging Ruffy by his tattered ears. Poppa knelt on the floor, his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking like they did when he laughed. This didn’t sound like laughter to him.

Raul glanced around but didn’t see Momma anywhere. Cautiously, he eased forward and laid a tentative hand on his poppa’s big shoulder. “Poppa?”

Poppa didn’t hear him.

Warily, he glanced around again. Where’s Momma? It wasn’t like Poppa to be alone.

Momma was always here, especially at night. She laughed and said Poppa didn’t like her going out after dark because he was scared something bad would happen to her. Raul didn’t think Poppa was scared of anything. He was so strong and so big, but Momma said there were different types of scared. That this scared was okay because it meant Poppa loved her and didn’t want anything bad happening to her.

Feeling a little scared, Raul patted Poppa’s shoulder, a bit insistently this time. “Poppa, where’s Momma?”

His father jerked and turned swiftly, startling Raul so bad he dropped Ruffy and staggered back before falling hard onto his bottom.

“Raul,” his Poppa said, not sounding like Poppa at all. His voice was jagged, his face wet with tears, and his skin red and blotchy.

Poppa reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into a hug. Poppa held him so tight it was hard to breathe. Not knowing what else to do, Raul patted Poppa on the head, the way Poppa sometimes did to him when he fell and hurt himself and cried.

Raul still wanted to know where Momma was, but Poppa’s big shoulders were shaking again, and the side of his neck where Poppa’s face was buried was wet.

After a long time, when it was all Raul could do not to wiggle his way free, Poppa’s shoulders finally stopped shaking. When Poppa finally lifted his head, he looked so sad, so unPoppa-like, that Raul’s chest hurt. “Poppa, where’s Momma?”

“She left.”

Raul’s forehead wrinkled. “She went to the store? But Momma said you don’t like for her to go out at night.”

A single tear leaked out of Poppa’s eye, trailed down his cheek to splash on Raul’s hand. “She’s not at the store, son. She’s gone.”

“Where did she go?” Raul asked curiously.

Poppa squeezed his eyes shut and breathed out so deeply his breath felt like a soft wind in Raul’s face.

Raul laid his hand on his Poppa’s bristly cheek. “Don’t be sad, Poppa. Momma will be home soon. Nothing bad happened to her.”

“Oh God! Oh God!” His Poppa hugged him tight again, rocking with him so that his feet left the carpet. Slowly Poppa lowered him to the floor and cupped both of Raul’s cheeks with his huge hands. “Raul, listen to me, son. Momma’s not coming back.”

Raul tried to understand. “Did Grammaw Pauline get sick again?”

Once when he was little, Momma went to stay with her momma because she was sick and didn’t have anyone to take care of her. Momma wouldn’t let Raul go with her because she said Grammaw Pauline needed lots and lots of attention. Raul was sad, but then Poppa took him to see his uncles and he had lots of fun, running in the woods and playing with the dogs. That was the first time Raul had met Poppa’s brothers.

“No, son.” His Poppa swallowed hard, like he had something in his throat. “Your grandma’s not sick. Remember our secret?”

Raul thought. “The one when you became a big doggie?” he asked with wide eyes.

“Yes, that one. Momma found out and…” His Poppa’s voice made a squeaky sound, and he stopped, blinked a few times before continuing, “And—”