“You come and sit down.”
He sat beside her, and she smothered him in a hug that he received patiently, patting her arm. She did not turn down the TV: it made the windows hum. When she released him, her nose had grown wet again, and she was looking for somewhere to wipe it.
“I thought I might see you. I made eggs and bacon.”
East stood up again. “I can’t eat. I just came by to check.”
“Let me take care of you,” she reproached him.
East shrugged. The TV swerved into a commercial, even louder. It made him wince. He split off half the fold of bills Fin had given him, and she took it without resistance or thanks. The money curled unseen in her hand.
East said, “Nice day. You see it?”
“Huh?” his mother said, surprised again. “I didn’t get outside today. Maybe. Where’s Ty? You see him?”
“I ain’t seen him. He’s all right.” He retreated to the kitchen, a little preserve behind a white counter littered with empty glasses. He could see her craning her neck, tracking him.
“He ain’t been to see me.”
“He’s doing fine. He’s busy.”
“He my baby.” Her voice rose frantically.
“Well, he’s doing fine. He’ll come around. I’ll tell him.”
“East,” she commanded, “you eat some eggs. They’re still in the pan.”
Let me take care of you.
When he flicked the switch, one of the two fluorescent tubes on the ceiling came to life. The kitchen was a wasteland. East bagged what could easily be thrown out. With a napkin from a burger bag he smashed ants. The eggs on the stove were revolting—cold and wet, visible pieces of shell. He turned away.
His mother had gotten up. She stood in the doorway.
“Easton,” she breathed, “you gon stay here?”
Embarrassed, he said, “Mama, don’t.”
Proudly she said, “There’s sheets on your bed.”
“I can’t tonight.”
“I ain’t seen either one of you,” she sniffed.
Like every minute weighed a ton. “Mama, let me get this trash out.”
“Whyn’t you have some eggs?”
“Mama,” he pleaded.
“Don’t neither my boys love me,” she announced to something on the opposite wall.
East dropped the bag of garbage. He found a fork in the congealed eggs, hacked out a mouthful, and shoveled it in. Sulfur. He tried to chew and swallow, eyes closed, and then turned to his mother. Eggs still milled around the sills of his teeth, horrible.
“You see.” His mother beamed.
—
East’s room was small but neat: twin bed with pillow, two photos on a shelf. A carpet he’d pulled up because he didn’t like the pattern and laid back upside down. A little dust but no clutter. He shut the door, but the TV noise still buffeted him. He picked shirts, socks, and underwear out of the pressboard dresser and stuffed them into a pillowcase. He looked around for a moment before the door opened.
His mother, weary on her feet but still pursuing, stood in the doorway.
“Any of Ty’s clothes here?” he asked.
She let out a sickly laugh. “Ty’s clothes—he took them—I ain’t seen—I don’t know what Ty wear.”
“Shirts? Anything?”
Two years younger, but Ty had left first. Even the room they’d shared for ten years—Ty barely ever seemed to live there. No toys, no animals, nothing taped to the wall. Like it was never his.
She zeroed in. “You going somewhere? You look like a tramp.”
“Me and Ty need clothes for a few days.”
She hummed, casual but knowing. “In trouble?”
“No.”
“Suitcases in the closet. But they old.”
“I don’t need a suitcase,” East said.
He stopped and waited stock-still till she retreated. After a moment he heard the squeak of the couch springs: she was down. He was alone. He checked the block of wood he’d mounted inside his bed frame, underneath: tight. He loosened it with the thumbscrew. He left his ATM cards there, then tightened it back down.
At the door he said, “I’ll be back in a few days. Come see you then. Come and stay with you.”
“I know you will. I know you gon come back,” his mother cooed.
He took out the remaining money, peeled off three bills, and gave her the rest.
“I know you ain’t in no trouble,” she begged. “My boys ain’t.”
He tilted his face down, and she kissed him good-bye.
—
Down the street, freed from the shout of her TV, East heard the silence hiss like waves. He walked north until he entered an office park of sandy gray buildings nine stories high. Two of them stood in a sort of corner formation, and East walked around them. A faint hubbub of raucous people drinking came from somewhere in the darkness.