Cemetery Street

A hollow feeling gnawed at my gut. If I wasn't sitting I would have fell. "Bitch," I mumbled.

The side of my face exploded with fire, the burning a stark contrast to the emptiness I felt. "What did you say?" Grandfather asked.

An old lady across the waiting room watched. I cowered into the chair raising my arms. "Why the… why did you do that?" I asked, bewildered.

"What did you call your mother?" Menace lurked in his voice.

"I didn't call her nothing." I squirmed. Tears of shock filled my eyes.

"James. so help me God I'll knock your teeth out. We're in a hospital, if you're lucky they'll be able to save them."

My father stood in front of us. He didn't say or do anything.

"I didn't say..."

His eyes flamed, "James, Tell me!"

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. "A bitch." The hit I expected never came. With a soft voice he asked, "Your mother just lost a baby, she may die. I know you have your problems, but why, why today would you call her a bitch? I never thought you could be so cruel. Maybe your mother is right, maybe you are a miserable self-centered snot nose."

His words hit me harder than his fist ever could. I exploded into uncontrollable sobs.

"Stop it." He commanded. "Your mother is fighting for her life and your crying over a scolding. Stop it."

I struggled to stop.

"Shut up Damn it! Grow up."

Fury seared my bones. I despised him worse than my mother. Despite my anger, I was ashamed - I let my hero down. For him to be so angry I had to have done something terribly wrong. I was confused. "Why aren't you mad at her?" I asked between sobs.

The question startled him. "Why would I be mad your mother?"

"You said she had an abortion. That's why you wouldn't let me go into the bathroom. She had an abortion in the bathroom. She decided she didn't want the baby and got rid of it."

"Oh James," he whispered. He brushed my hair back from my forehead. "Oh God no. Your mother didn't have an abortion. She didn't choose to get rid of the baby. The baby spontaneously aborted. It's like a miscarriage. Something went wrong."

"Like what?" I asked.

"The Doctors don't know." I repeated my grandfather's words to Shannie and Diane later that day.