The Sweet Taste Of His Blood

After the earthquake, Dad went to sleep.

I was curled into his chest, tucked beneath the shadow of a massive concrete slab. His body was slowly losing its heat, turning into a cooling hearth as I stayed huddled there, sucking on his finger and swallowing the sweet red tea he gave me.

A voice crackled from the black screen of his phone. It was Mom.

"Save the people with minor injuries and Parker first," she said, her voice sharp and distant. "As for Davidhes tough as nails. He can wait a little longer. It won't kill him."

It really was Mom. Dad told me shed come for us soon.

But why did she want him to wait? I looked at my sleeping father and whispered to the phone.

"Mom, Dads asleep. He gave me lots of sweet tea to drink."

"The tea tastes a bit strange, but Im not scared. Dad said youd be here to hold me before the tea ran out."

The phone went silent. I went back to my tea.

Then, I heard her voice again, loud and commanding, telling people to find "the baby." I clapped my hands weakly. Mom was coming to get me.

"Found him! Over here! Theres a kid alive!"

A blinding pillar of light stabbed into the darkness, making my eyes ache.

I instinctively tried to burrow deeper into Dads arms, but he was stiff now, like a statue.

"Dad, the sun's up. Can we go home now?"

I pushed against his chest. It wasn't broad and warm anymore. A huge section of it had collapsed inward, and everything felt sticky.

"Quick! Get the boy out first!"

A pair of rough, heavy hands wrenched me away from him.

"Im not leaving! Dads still sleeping! I have to wait for him!"

I screamed, my fingers locked onto a piece of his shirt. Riiiip. The fabric tore away in my hand.

I was hauled into the arms of a man in an orange vest. My face was smeared with dark, dried red crustthe remains of the "sweet tea" Dad had fed me.

"Jamie! My Jamie!"

A figure came stumbling toward us. It was Mom. She was wearing an expensive designer suit, dusted with grime but otherwise intact. She snatched me from the rescuer and crushed me against her.

"Thank God. Youre alive. You scared me to death..."

She was crying. Her body was shaking.

But then, I caught a scent. A crisp, stinging trail of mens cologne. It was the scent Dad hated mosthe called it the "bad mans smell." Every time he caught a whiff of it on her, hed go quiet for hours.

I struggled in her arms. "Mom, Dads still down there. Hes sleeping."

Moms body went rigid.

She didnt look at the ruins where Dad lay. Instead, she pressed my head hard against her shoulder, forcing me to look away.

"Be a good boy, Jamie. Dad... Dad went somewhere very far away."

"No, hes right there!"

I got frantic, pointing at the black hole in the earth. "He gave me so much sweet tea. He said when I finished it, youd be here."

Moms face turned deathly pale. She stared at the dark red scabs around my mouth, her lips trembling.

The doctors and nurses around us fell into a heavy silence. One of the nurses covered her mouth, her eyes instantly brimming with tears.

Only Mom looked away. Her eyes darted around, searching for an exit.

What was she afraid of? Was it because of the black phone?

Back then, her voice had come through the screen. She said Dad was tough. She said he wouldn't die.

I leaned into her ear and whispered, "Mom, why did we have to make Dad wait?"

Mom jerked back and pushed me away as if I had burned her. Her eyes held no reliefonly pure, unadulterated terror.

The ambulance sirens wailed, a jagged sound against the quiet.

I sat on the bench inside, still clutching that scrap of Dads shirt. Mom sat across from me, rubbing her hands incessantly. Her hands were clean, her nails painted a perfect, deep crimson. They looked nothing like Dads hands. His had been covered in mud and blood.

"Jamie... back there... did you hear anything?" she asked tentatively, unable to meet my gaze.

I licked my lips. I could still taste the rust.

"I heard."

Mom flinched. "Heard... what?"

"I heard you say to save Parker first."

The air in the ambulance turned to ice. The medic cleaning my face froze, his hand suspended in mid-air. He looked up at Mom, his eyes cold and judging.

Mom forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. "You misheard, honey. The signal was bad. I was just... I was so worried."

"Was I?" I tilted my head. "But whos Parker? Why is he more important than Dad?"

Mom opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She turned to the window, pretending to wipe away tears.

When we arrived at the hospital, a swarm of people surrounded us. Camera flashes popped like miniature lightning strikes, stinging my eyes.

Suddenly, Mom transformed.

She scooped me up and sobbed for the cameras. "Thank the Lord for giving me my son back! As long as Jamie is okay, Id give up everything I own!"

The reporters were dabbing their eyes, calling her a hero, a devoted mother. I rested my head on her shoulder, watching her face. She was howling, but there were no tears in her eyes.

She looked like a clown on a TV screen.

In the ward, I finally saw Parker.

He was in a massive private suite, wearing a little designer suit and eating chocolate cake. He didnt have a scratch on him. Not a single hair was out of place. Sitting by his bed was a man in a crisp white shirt. He was handsome, and he smelled exactly like Momthat same sharp cologne.

"Victoria, youre here."

The man stood up. His eyes were red, making him look fragile and soulful.

Mom set me down and rushed to him, taking his hands. "Harrison, how is Parker? Was he terrified?"

I stood in the doorway, feeling like a ghost in someone else's house.

Parker saw me. He wrinkled his nose and pointed. "Dad, is that the dirty kid who drank blood? He smells gross."

Drinking blood.

Dirty kid.

I looked at the frosting on his lip, and my stomach growled.

The man, Harrison, walked over and knelt in front of me. "This must be Jamie. You poor thing. Come let me give you a hug."

He reached out. On his wrist was a gold watch. It was identical to Dads. Dad told me Mom gave it to him for their tenth anniversary.

Why was it on this mans arm?

A nameless fire ignited in my chest. Like a small, cornered animal, I lunged forward and sank my teeth into his wrist.

"Gah!" Harrison screamed, lashing out with his arm.

I was small, and the force sent me flying. I hit the foot of the bed hard. It hurt, but I didn't cry. I just stared at him.

"Jamie! Are you insane?"

Mom rushed over, shoving me aside to cradle Harrisons hand. "Harrison! Are you okay? Is it bleeding?"

She turned on me, her eyes burning with venom. "Who taught you to be so feral? Apologize to him right now!"

I stayed on the floor, feeling something warm trickle down my forehead. It was red, just like the "tea" Dad gave me.

I looked at her and said quietly, "Mom, Im bleeding too. Are you going to make me wait, too?"

The room went silent. Moms face turned a bruised, ugly purple.

Harrisons eyes flickered, his expression shifting into something performatively kind. He ignored the bite mark and reached out to help me up.

"Victoria, don't blame the boy. He just lost his father. Hes traumatized."

He patted my shoulder. His grip was heavy, intended to hurt. "Its okay, Jamie. It doesn't hurt. Ill buy you some candy."

I slapped his hand away.

"I don't want candy. I have the sweet tea Dad gave me."

Harrisons face stiffened.

Parker started wailing from the bed. "Mom, get this freak out of here! He stinks!"

Mom took a deep breath and called for a nurse. "Take Jamie to the next room. Clean him up. And have them check his head. I think somethings wrong with his brain."

Check his head. She thought I was stupid.

The nurse led me away. As she wiped my wound, I saw her quiet tears. "It's okay, sweetie. I'll be gentle."

I looked at her. "Is my dad really dead?"

The nurses hand shook. She pulled me into a hug and sobbed. "Your father... he was a great man."

That evening, my grandparents arrived. My grandmother fainted the moment she saw me. My grandfather leaned on his cane, his hands trembling violently. He wanted to take me home, but Mom refused.

"The doctor says his emotional state is unstable," she said, blocking the door. "It's better if he stays here for observation."

I knew why. She was afraid of what Id say. She was afraid of the secret inside the black square.

Late that night, the door creaked open. It was Sam, Dads best friend. Usually, he was all smiles, but today his eyes were dark.

He walked to my bed and pulled something from his pocket. It was a phone with a shattered screen. Dads phone.

"Jamie," Sam whispered, as if afraid of being overheard. "They found this in the rubble. It still turns on."

I grabbed the phone and hugged it to my chest. It smelled like Dad. It was stained with his dried blood.

Sam stroked my hair. "Jamie, do you want to help your dad?"

I looked up at him. There was a flicker of fire in his eyes.

"The funeral is in a few days. There will be a lot of people there. That man will be there too." Sam pointed to a red triangle icon on the screen. "That day, if Mom gets up to speak, I want you to press this triangle. Can you do that for me?"

I looked at the red triangle and nodded hard. "Yes."

It was a game. A game only Sam and I knew. I was going to let everyone hear what Mom really said that day.

The day of the funeral, it rained. The sky was a dull, dirty gray. I was in a small black suit Nana bought me, a white carnation pinned to my lapel.

The chapel was massive, filled with lilies. In the center hung a photo of Dad. He was smiling, his eyes bright like the sun.

Mom stood at the front in a sharp black dress. She looked exhausted, her eyes sunken, her makeup failing to hide her fatigue. Everyone whispered about what a devoted widow she was, how shed wasted away with grief.

Harrison didn't show, but Parker was there. He wore a black shirt and hid behind a pillar, making faces at me. He mouthed the words: You dont have a dad anymore.

I stared at him, my hand in my pocket, gripping the cold, shattered phone.

The service began. The music was heavy and suffocating. Mom walked up to the podium, holding a few sheets of paper. She began her eulogy.

"David, my love..."

She choked up after the first sentence. The guests dabbed their eyes, moved by such "heartbreaking" love.

"We were together for ten years. You were my rock, my heart. When the earthquake hit, I wished I could have died in your place."

"If I could turn back time, I would have been there with you, holding your hand so you wouldn't have to face the dark alone."

She was sobbing now, her body swaying. Relatives rushed up to support her.

"David, how could you be so cruel as to leave Jamie and me behind?" she cried out to his portrait, her fists thumping against her chest.

I stood in the front row. Sam was right beside me. He knelt down, straightened my collar, and squeezed my hand. His palm was slick with sweat.

"Ready, Jamie?" he whispered.

I looked at Mom, putting on her grand performance. I looked at her tears and her trembling shoulders.

I remembered the rubble. I remembered Dads body growing cold. I remembered him putting his finger in my mouth, smiling, telling me it didn't hurt.

I remembered her voice: Let him wait a little longer.

A massive, hot surge of anger tore through my chest. I didn't fully understand hate yet, but I knew I wanted to rip her performance to shreds.

I broke away from Grandpas hand and walked toward the stage, clutching the broken phone. The crowd went silent, thinking I was just a grieving child reaching for my mother.

Mom saw me, a flicker of panic crossing her eyes before she masked it. She knelt down, opening her arms. "Jamie, come to Mommy. We miss him so much, don't we?"

She wanted to hug me. She wanted to use me to finish her show.

I stopped right in front of her. I didn't go into her arms. I held up the black squarethe phone stained with Dads blood.

Moms pupils contracted. She recognized it. She reached out to grab it. "Jamie, thats dirty. Give it to Mom"

The moment her fingertips brushed the glass, my thumb slammed down on the red triangle.

The Bluetooth connection to the chapels massive sound system kicked in instantly.