Black Mould - Thirty-Seven - The Price of Protest

Black Mould - Thirty-Seven - The Price of Protest

Black Mould - Thirty-Seven - The Price of Protest

What happened? I asked.

My mom ran over to me, grabbed me by the shoulders, then hugged me.

I loved her. She was a good mother. A bit of a nag, sometimes, and she had some bite to her, but she cared. She was never too physically affectionate though. The hug was hard, almost painful. I hugged back and pretended not to hear the tears in her voice. I need to go, she said.

Where?

The factory, she said. Your fathers. There was he joined the protests. I told him not to, but he did. She choked on nothing, and I pulled her in closer.

Okay, I said. Was he arrested?

I dont know. I just heard they were being shot, rounded up.

My blood went cold. Where is it? I asked.

We cant go there.

Why not? I asked.

She hesitated, searching for an answer, then she found her spine. I watched her eyes harden and her back straighten. I think I know where theyll be, she said.

I followed after her. There was a moment where she insisted that I stay home, but I wasnt about to just stay back. If she left without me, Id just follow her in a minute, and there was nothing she could do about it. She gave up quickly enough.

Id never gone to my dads workplace. I knew he was a mechanic, that he worked to maintain some big machines. He bragged about his work often, about how hard it was and how few mechanics there were who could do what he could. I always wondered why he didnt earn more, if his position was so hard to fill.

Mom knew exactly where to go. I followed her up a few levels, then across the slums. We headed towards the Gutter, then veered off before hitting that big road that followed next to the river. The slums gave way to equally dirty factories. Hundreds of them pressed in close to each other, with only the occasional warehouse between them.

Everything was a bit of a blur. We were moving fast, not taking in the sights.

I wanted to know how Mom had learned that something was going on. She wasnt usually home so early. There were lots of people out on the streets, and I thought that maybe that had something to do with it. Had other factories closed early?nove(l)bi(n.)com

Most of the people out on the streets were milling around on the edges. Men, women, children, all of them in raggedy dresses and overalls, with enough soot and coal dust on them to warm a house for a year.

I jogged after Mom, keeping up as she started to walk faster.

The road ahead was blocked.

Two carts and an actual car, turned so as to make it impossible to cross. Bullies were swarming around the place, batons in hand, faces grim.

Mom walked right up to one of them who was directing people away. My husbands over there, she said.

This areas blocked off, he said.

But my husband, Roger, hes that way, please, she said.

I said, areas blocked off.

I slipped up next to Mom and caught the officers eye. Is Dada hurt? I asked.

Some of the injured werent being helped at all. They all had black tags. I saw a man cough, gurgle, then stop. By the time we walked past the two men were at the body, picking it up.

Red tags for people that could be helped, green for those that were able to help themselves. Black for the rest. It was simple. It was awful.

We found Dad near the end of the room.

He had a black tag around his leg. His only leg.

The other ended below the knee. There was a beltnot his ownpulled far tighter than was sensible around his thigh.

Roger! Mom wailed. She fell onto him, touching his face, his chest.

He was pale. His eyes searched the ceiling, then fell onto Mom. He smiled. His hand reached out and he touched her face. She grabbed it.

Eyes, he said.

The leg wasnt the only injury. Only the one arm was moving. He was sweaty, shirt clinging to his chest.

Dada? I asked.

I fell next to Mom. My knees hurt, but I forgot that. The squish against my overalls as they became wet with Dadas no.

He blinked, his attention wavered, then he looked at me. His smile turned sad. Im sorry, he said. I just wanted what was right. I wanted it to be fair. For you. Both of you.

Dada? What happened? Are you okay?

Stupid. Stupid questions. I knew.

He jerked his arm. I think he wanted to reach to me, but Mom was clinging onto him. She was crying in an ugly way.

Another body was moved by us. Someone cursed. Someone else whimpered, like a dog thatd been kicked.

I love you, he said to Mom. My blue-eyed Tessa.

No, Mom said. No no, dont, Roger. Dont.

He sighed.

Mom screamed.

I knelt there. Im not sure if I could see. Not until the two men came and stood awkwardly nearby.

One of them touched the other. Theres other bodies, we can come back for this one, he said.

That made it real.

Something in me twitched, stretched, then broke.

I clung to my mom and screamed.

***