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Prompt two

Eric Wade

    Mark is outside on the patio pacing back and forth agonizing over meeting his birth parents. Exhausted from travel, his mother Sarah, the woman that adopted him, sleeps peacefully inside. After chemo therapy, she insisted that she make the trip with him to meet his birth parents. After wearing out the concrete, he walks back into the room, to locate the bottle of wine his mother requested that he take as a gift. He grabs the wine from the dresser and smirks to himself.
    “After today, I will never have to see them ever again.”
     Mark grabs the bottle, and tiptoes over to his mom’s bed. He moves her hair away from her face and kisses her gently on the forehead, before going to meet the people who discarded him as a child.
    Three hours later, Marks comes back to the hotel. The room is dark and filled with a stench of vomit causing him to gag uncontrollably. He turns on the light and sees his mother leaning over the trash can next to the bed. He helps her up, grabs her robe from the chair, and finds a few specks of blood on her pillow.
    “I should have been here with you instead of wasting time with those people,” says Mark.
    “Speaking of those people, how did it go?” says Sarah.
    “Not very far. Do we have any food, I’m starving?” He turns around to see if there are any snacks in the room.
    “Mark, they are my only hope, our only hope. I need to know that you are taken care of in case I don’t make it.”
    “You are going to be fine; I don’t need to get to know them.” He brushes it off like its not a big deal.
    “Can you do it for me, please?”
    “Mom, you are too trusting. What if they are just out for our money?”
    “They said they wanted a second chance with you. I have to believe their telling the truth. I just wanted you to meet your birth parents”. “I’m sorry mom, but they relinquished that right a long time ago.”
    Shaking his head, he goes out on the patio to smoke a cigarette. He leans over the gate and turns his gaze to the activities of the ocean. She grabs her bottle of wine, a plastic cup, and her cell phone. She drags her body out of bed to take on the laborious task of walking outside to keep Mark company. The smell of the ocean and the warmth of the sun blanket her ailing body as she pours herself a little wine.
    “I am glad that you didn’t mix up the two bottles,” says his mother.
    “I marked theirs, so I wouldn’t get confused,” says Mark.
    “Good, because you know how forgetful you are.” Smiling and gently squeezing his hand. “I am so thankful that you are my son.”
    His bottom lip quivers and he lowers his face into his hands. “I don’t want to lose you mom. What will I do without you?”
    At that moment, Mark’s grudge for his sperm donors grew to malice within his heart. His mother was the third family that he was sent to. Mark was so much of a handful that he had lost all hope of ever finding a home. But unlike the others, she vowed that this was his home forever. She changed his whole life.
    After a few moments of silence, his mother says, “baby, I need you to be okay with this.”
    “Mother, you are fighting for your life. How can I be okay with leaving you?”
    “Sweetheart, death will meet us all one day. All we can do is embrace it.”
    “Listen, mom, I love you, and I am going to be by your side until the end.”
    “I love you too, son.”
    He rubs her cheek and gently dries the corner of her eyes. He looks away at the ocean and inhales deeply. The sun is beginning to set and her face feels stiff and cold underneath his fingers.
    “Tell me how things went today.”
    “Nothing to tell.”
    “Since you won’t talk I will just have to call myself.” After her third time calling she gets no answer. She hung up the phone, and took her last sip of wine.
    “Did something happen?”
    “Huh?” shifting his eyes back and forth. “Why do you say that? Is it because they didn’t answer the phone?”
    “You look guilty.”
    “Me guilty, of what? Maybe their phone is just dead.”
    Her eyes roll to the back of her head. She leans slightly forward. Dropping her chin into her chest. She slumps over to the side. He quickly catches her before she falls. She regains consciousness. She stares off into the distance. Fear glosses over her eyes as she struggles to speak. Her body shakes violently. He lays her down on the ground. Foam begins to form across her mouth. He takes the bottle of wine out of her hand and notices the label.
    “Oh, my God, what have I done!” He cried. Mother this was not supposed to happen to you.”

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