Mother And Son

My mother and I walked into Birju's hospital room. The room had white walls and I was holding the black duffel bag my mother had brought with her on the bus from New York. We came into the room and stopped just past the door. 'Don't think I don't blame you, Birju,' my mother shouted. 'Don't think I don't think this is all your fault.' My mother was wearing a yellow sari and the skin beneath her eyes appeared singed and her mouth was twisted open. 'What was at the bottom of the pool? Was there gold? Was there treasure that you had to jump in before anybody else got to it?' My mother and I walked further into the room.

Birju was in a bed with railings. His eyes were wide open and almost panicked and he had a clear plastic mask over his nose and lips like fighter pilots wear in thin air. My mother took hold of the railings and, leaning over, said, 'Look what you've done. Do you understand what you've done?' My mother started sobbing and this scared me. To me Birju looked like he was staring up at some invisible thing and that thing was pressing down on his chest. I wondered whether the gas coming from the mask was what was keeping Birju still. I wondered whether, if the mask were removed, Birju would start talking.

My aunt and uncle were also in the room. They had been sitting before a dark window when we came in and they were now standing. My aunt walked towards us, swaying from side to side because of her arthritic knees. 'God is there,' she said, coming up to my mother. The top of her head reached my mother's shoulder. 'God is always there.'

My mother began sobbing even more loudly. I held the black duffel before me with both hands. Doing this made me feel like I was helping.

My mother leaned over the railings. 'Don't worry,' she said. 'I am here. If a doctor doesn't act nice to you, I'll slap him twice and ask him his name. If a nurse looks at you bad, I'll tear her hair out.'

My aunt put her arm around my mother. 'We should go home,' she said. 'There is an operation in the morning.'

It was a little after one in the morning when we left. I had never been up so late.