“Momma?”

She didn’t move. He shook her a little harder.

“Momma?”

She didn’t respond. He bent down in front of her, his heart pounding, and looked up into her face. It was gray.

“Momma! Momma!”

Donnie shook her harder and her head rolled back. He put his hand on her throat to check for a pulse. She was cold. He fell back onto the porch and sat looking at her, tears rolling down his face.

“Oh…Momma.”

****

Donnie didn’t know how long he’d sat at his dead mother’s feet but the sun was disappearing over the horizon as he finally decided what to do. Actually, he decided what not to do. He didn’t call 911.

He needed to talk to his brother. Billy would tell him how to handle his mother’s death. Billy would also be able to tell him what the impact on their plan would be with Momma gone. His mother’s death wouldn’t change the need for Billy to find peace.

Donnie wheeled his mother back inside and into her bedroom. Cradling her in his arms, he managed to get her onto her bed. He gently laid her out, crossed her hands on her chest and covered her up. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

“I love you, Momma and always will.”

He turned off the light and closed the bedroom door.

He hadn’t eaten, so he grabbed a bottle of chocolate milk from the fridge and went back out to the van. He needed to get to the cemetery, needed to get to Billy and receive some guidance. He knew his mother’s death would accelerate their plan and he needed to focus on something other than the pain of Momma’s death.

The moon was new and the cemetery dark when he got there. Parking in his usual spot, he got out and slowly walked to his brother’s grave. He was dreading the news he had to deliver.

“Hi, Billy. It’s me. I’ve got some sad news.”

Donnie stood quietly looking down at his brother’s name. The rose his mother had left was now wilted, dying. Donnie’s heart broke as he bent down and picked it up, twirling it in his fingers. He could see his Momma there, laying it on the stone, and tears began to fall again.

His expression changed as a voice no one else could hear spoke to him. Donnie went from sad to surprised.

“You know?”

He listened.

“You knew it was coming?!”

More silence.

“Why didn’t you tell me, give me warning?”

Donnie was angry. His brother could have prepared him but instead chose not to. Donnie couldn’t understand why and apparently his brother wasn’t going to tell him because Billy changed the subject.

“Yeah, I got it. Went without a hitch.”

Donnie didn’t really want to discuss the plan. He needed to know what to do about Momma. He needed to know things would be okay. Donnie sensed the loss of his mother could be the catalyst for getting Billy his final rest but he also feared it might derail everything. He knew he needed the mission to keep his life from unraveling.

“Where should I put Momma, Billy? There’s no room for her here with you and I don’t want her far from us.”

Donnie’s eyebrows went up.

“Really? Do you think it would be alright?”

A smile came to Donnie’s face.

“That’s an awesome idea! I’ll go and take care of it now but I’ll be back soon. I love you, brother.”

****

The next morning dawned warm and found Donnie up early. He went into the barn and gathered wood from the lumber pile. He laid the wood out on the ground and pieced it together in his mind. Some nails and he thought it would do the job.

Donnie was supposed to work again today and so he needed to call in. When he called, it was his boss Gary Maddox, who answered.

“Hi, Gary. Mommas real sick, I won’t be able to work today.”

“Okay.”

Donnie sensed something wasn’t right.

“I’ll let you know tomorrow morning if she’s better.”

“Fine. Donnie, you wouldn’t know what happened to my gun, would you?”

Donnie’s heart started to pound.

“Your gun? What gun? You mean the ‘Dealmaker’?”

“Yeah, it’s been stolen. You know anything about that?”

“No, of course not.”

There was a moment or two of silence before his boss spoke again.

“Listen, I don’t need the help right now, anyway. I’ll let you know if I want you in future.”

The line went dead before Donnie could respond. He hung up the phone. He didn’t want to lose his job but he was relieved and managed a smile.

He doesn’t know who took it. He suspects me but he doesn’t know for sure. One less thing to worry about.

****

 

He worked on it for most of the day and when it was done, he stood back and looked it over. Donnie was pretty sure his brother would be impressed.

He placed the lid on and carried the completed box to the house. Setting it down on the porch, he stopped for the night. He would finish the other half of his task tomorrow.

Going into the house, he washed up, made himself a sandwich and sat down at the kitchen table. The TV was off, his mother being the only one who watched it, and the house was quiet. The loneliness Donnie felt with the loss of his mother began to suffocate him. He was now completely isolated. First Billy, and now Momma, had left him. He had no friends, no other family and no job. Just Billy and the responsibility to help him rest.

Sadness washed over him. It helped he could still visit his brother but that didn’t stop the pain he felt inside. Donnie got up and moved to the couch, lying down on his side, his eyes closed. He held his stomach and began to moan. A physical pain in his chest made him rock back and forth, tears filling his eyes.

He didn’t know how long he lay there but, after a while, Donnie wiped his sleeve across his face and got up. He needed to get out of the house and decided now was as good a time as any to look for Momma’s burial site. Going out the back door and around the garage, he stood looking over the back part of the property. Trees lined the back fence row and Texas scrub had grown up through the fences on both the east and west. There was a small rise behind the garage that had a blackjack oak towering above.

“You’re gonna rest there, Momma. Close to me, so I can visit anytime.”

The thought that his mother would remain close by helped to calm the storm raging inside. He would bury her tomorrow and then be ready to focus on the job he had to do for his brother.

 

Chapter  4

 

Donnie was up early again the next morning. The day promised to be hot and the job ahead of him grueling. Toast and orange juice served as breakfast. After filling a rinsed out quart milk jug with cold water, he went to the barn.

Hanging on the wall was a pick, which he took down, and over in the corner was an old shovel. He examined the handle on the shovel and decided it needed reinforcement. Several wrappings of duct tape satisfied him the shovel would hold up.

Walking out to the rise behind the garage, Donnie found himself in a surprisingly good mood. He had a task, an important one, and that had always made him feel better. A task allowed him to focus, to close off emotion, to sweat out some of the pain in his life.

Donnie removed his shirt, tied it around his head in a bandana to absorb sweat, and made a mental rectangle in the dirt. Starting at the base of the rectangle, he plunged the pick into the dirt.

Once, twice, three and then four times, he would raise and plunge the pick into the dry Texas ground. Next, he took the shovel and removed the dirt he had broken loose. The process was then repeated. Over and over, pounding the dirt, pounding out his pain. It was slow, hot and tedious but he needed it.