Shooting forward, I gripped my mother’s tiny frame by her arms and lifted her gently to the bed, almost gagging at her smell. As I set her straight, I flinched at the pain etched on her face. Her teeth were gritted and her nostrils flared as she took short, sharp breaths at the discomfort.
Sitting on the bed beside her, I ran my hand over her forehead, pushing the sweaty strands of brown hair from her face. “Calma, Mamma, Calma,” I spoke in Italian, her mother tongue, soothing her to calm. Large, sunken brown eyes stared up at me, and her lip twitched. I knew that was Mamma giving me a thankful smile.
“Stai bene, Mamma?” I asked, hoping she felt a little better.
Her eyelids closed, and I knew that was her attempt at a nod. She was either exhausted or in too much pain to try to speak.
I cast a look around the room and noticed her dirty clothes strewn all over the wooden floor and gray medical bottles lined up on her dresser. My gut clenched when I realized what the bottles were and where the God-awful smell was coming from. They were bottles of piss.
Closing my eyes, I fought against losing my shit at the state she was in. Another thing to rip on Axel for.
A touch, as light as a feather, ghosted across the back of my hand, and then I looked down. Mamma had laid her hand upon mine, her eyes wet with tears.
Leaning forward, I pressed a kiss on her head and whispered, “Ti voglio bene, Mamma.”
“Anche… a te… mio caro,” she whispered back, telling me she loved me too. I smiled at her proudly as she fought through the pain to respond.
Standing, I rubbed my hands together. “Right, Mamma, I’m getting you a glass of water. Then it’s time to get this place cleaned up, then it’s your turn, okay?”
“Such… a good… boy,” she managed to croak out.
I wasn’t. We both knew that, but at that moment, I’d never felt more blessed that I’d made her happy enough to say such words to me.
An hour later, I placed the last of the freshly washed dishes away into the cabinet and moved to the bathroom to run the shower. I’d checked on Mamma every five minutes, and her eyes were expressively sad as she watched me scrub and clean every corner of our old trailer. The woman was a damn saint. She deserved more than all this shit.
“Okay, Mamma, let’s get you in the shower,” I instructed, trying to ignore the flash of mortification on her beautiful face. She hated not being able to do this for herself. Before this f**kin’ disease struck her down, Chiara Carillo held down three jobs and loved me and my brothers enough for two parents once our deadbeat dad left us for some whore across state. Mamma never let us go hungry, always ensured we stayed on the right path, and kept us outta trouble when all the other kids in the park began joining the Heighters.
Then seven years ago, everything changed. The cause: ALS. Lou Gehrig’s Disease. A form of Motor Neuron Disease. The goddamn disease that gradually weakened her muscles. The incurable disease that chipped away her freedom day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.
A soft moan slipped from Mamma’s lips as I lifted her slight body in my arms, and I pretended to ignore the sweat-soaked and soiled sheets that she’d been lying on for Christ knows how long.
Carrying her into the shower, I placed her on the toilet seat and began removing her dirty nightdress. A splash of water hit my hand, and when I looked up, tears were pouring down my mamma’s cheeks. She couldn’t meet my eyes.
Pain sliced through my chest.
Coughing to erase the emotion stuck in my throat, I checked the temperature of the water and, silently, lifted Mamma in my arms and placed us under the stream. My clothes were drenched, but I didn’t give a shit.
The water did a good job of masking her embarrassment as she clung to my shoulders like a scared and timid child.
After washing Mamma’s body and hair, I wrapped her in the last of the fresh towels, changed her into her robe, and sat her on the worn sofa.
“I gotta change the linen on your bed, Mamma, so you’ll sleep real good tonight. I’ll be right back, okay?” I said. She closed her eyes, nodding her head slightly. Even something as simple as a shower had exhausted her.
Curse this motherfuckin’ disease.
Finding the last of the clean, though faded, bed linen, I put them on the bed, adding an incontinence bed pad below to save the mattress from any accidents. I tried to disguise it as much as possible; Mamma would hate to know I’d done it. She hadn’t lost the use of her bladder; it was getting to the bathroom unaided she couldn’t do.
Walking to the living room, I leaned against the doorframe and tried to stop the utter f**kin’ devastation at seeing my mamma, the best person I knew, so broken, her petite frame slumped over, her muscles weakening by the day. She’d been like this for seven years. With ALS, you’re lucky if you get past ten years. My stomach felt like a pit. The way things were looking, I wasn’t sure she’d even last twelve months.
A pained moan ripped from her lips, and her eyebrows pulled down in pain. Almost sprinting to her side, I scooped her up in my arms and took her back to bed. A happy sigh escaped her lips as she lay in the fresh, clean linen, and I once again sat beside her.
“Can I get you anything else, Mamma?” I asked and lost a breath as she reached for my hand once more.
“No, grazie, mio caro,” she said softly, and her eyes began to fill with tears again.
“Damn, Mamma, please don’t cry. I can’t stand it,” I said, and even to my ears, my voice sounded strained.
“They… have… him, Austin,” Mamma managed to say, and I frowned.
“Who, Mamma? Who has who?”
Her bottom lip began tremble and she tried to squeeze my hand with hers but failed. “Levi… they… got to… him. Need… to save… him.” Mamma’s voice cracked on the last word, and cold shivers ran down my spine.
My head dipped. “I know, Mamma. I just found out tonight.” She looked up at me like I was Superman, like I was the answer, like I could get him out. Her big brown eyes were begging me, pleading for me to save him.
“Axel… he is too far… in. Levi… you… you both need to… get out.” Mamma suddenly cried out and her back stiffened as pain racked her body. Swallowing hard, I held her hand tightly in mine as we waited for the excruciating ache to subside.
Mamma panted heavily and eventually calmed enough to say, “Austin… I’m so… proud… of you. Prom… promise me… you’ll save… Levi…”