Lillian Waits Up

Lillian buttered two slices of bread and spread mayonnaise and mustard on each side, and then she placed sliced turkey and a leaf of lettuce and a thin slice of tomato on one slice and covered it with the other slice. Every few moments, she stopped when she thought she heard the sound of Jason’s steps in the hall way, rattling his key in the door.  She still wanted to make him a sandwich as well when she made her own, but she knew he wouldn’t take it, and it would be left in the fridge when she came home from work the next day.  

Hanging out with his friends was important, she agreed, but eating pizza and drinking gallons of coke during his school lunch hour every day wasn’t. “At least I’m not out all night doing drugs,” he’d say.  In the mornings, when he scowled at his acne scarred face in the mirror and blamed her for his lousy genes, all she could do was sigh and walk away.  

The microwave oven clock read 10:30pm. Earlier standing at the entrance, he’d rolled his eyes and promised to be home by ten.  When he was putting on his high backed runners, she’d noticed the redness of a new tattoo on his ankle, and he’d cut her off from asking any questions. He’d grabbed his coat, and not bothered to close the closet door and barged out of the apartment, his energy whirling out with him, before she could remind him she had to get up at five for her day shift.

Lillian made herself a cup of chamomile tea. She enjoyed holding the warmth of the large mug in her hands, as she watched a short comedy, expecting Jason to show up any minute. She’d rip into him for being late, no matter how much he gave her those looks.  After a few sips, the tannins in the tea made her queasy, but she continued holding the cup.  

The show finished and Jason still wasn’t back. She texted him, but the message wasn’t being delivered.  What if he was in some kind of trouble, and had lost his phone. But no, his friends would call her. She texted his two best friends, Jimmy and Carlos. They both responded they were each at home and hadn’t seen him since school finished. Carlos revealed that Jason might be hanging out with some other guys, but he didn’t know their names. He wasn’t sure they even went to the school. 

The cold cup of tea set aside, she didn’t want to do anything, not even breathe, in case she missed something. Why hadn’t she been paying more attention to Jason? Why hadn’t she insisted on knowing more about his friends?  

She paced in the small apartment, stopping to look out the window down onto the street. Please, please come home, Jason. I’ll try to be more understanding. He still wasn’t responding to her texts and the message when she phoned, said his phone was out of service. She tried phoning, but there was no answer.

She called the police. “But he’s never done this before, stayed out so late.”

The friendly male offficer told her they’d look out for him, but it was still too early.

Even as the call was disconnected with her mute compliance, her mind was raging. Too early, no, not too early for a million and one disasters to befall her only son.  

She left the television on, noting the changing of characters on the screen in the periphery of her mind. He’s okay. He’s got to be okay. He’s a good boy. I raised him. He knows what to do. She repeated these lines over and over, trying to avoid the large menacing dark spectre that overthreatened her mantras. 

Perhaps if she let herself relax, he’d be home. So she let herself sink into the sofa with the television droning in the background.  

She found a romantic comedy, one she’d watched years ago, which wasn’t stressful and would help her stay awake. Now it was after eleven thirty. She wanted to get out in her car and drive around and look for him, but she’d probably go to the wrong places. Better to stay at home and wait.  

Three days ago, she’d ended her night shift rotation. It was always tough getting to sleep on the first night before her day time rotation, and now she felt she’d be awake all night. She forced herself to watch the movie, and then found herself laughing at the characters, but then stopped. What if something had happened to Jason? No, until she heard otherwise, he was fine. He had to be. She refocused on the characters on the screen.  

A different noise startled her. She thought it was the door and went to open it, but no one was there. The refrigerator fan had come on, it must have been that. She rubbed her eyes, and glanced up at the wall clock, quarter after two. Had she dozed off? It hadn’t felt like it. Where was Jason?  Was he going to come home? God, she shouldn’t let herself think like that.  

She turned on her phone, 2:17 AM. There were no new calls and he hadn’t responded to her texts.  The television was an irritant now, and she turned it off.

Jason’s portrait, the one that sat on the wooden shelf with other curios, the one she stopped for a moment and held whenever she dusted, she now held in her hands. With a finger she traced the outline of his head and the features of his thirteen year old face. His warm smile reached out to her, and she touched her fingers to it, only to feel the cold glass scshield remind her, this sweet Jason, this boy who had called her ‘mommy’ and loved hugs before going to bed, had disappeared long before this night, and she knew he would never return.

At five, the night sky was lightening, and birds were awakening, in spite of herself, morning energy stirred her. Following her routine, she got into the shower, and let the hot water ease her tired muscles, and massaged shampoo and conditioner into her scalp. If Jason wasn’t back, could she even go to work. She’d call the police again. Maybe another officer would answer.  

Putting on her housecoat, and turbaning a towel on her head, she walked out of the steamy bathroom, and heard noises. Her breath caught. “Jason, honey is that you?”

There was no response. Another one of those noises.  

She peaked around the wall into the kitchen.  

Jason was stuffing her lunch sandwich into his mouth. His face was flushed and she saw right away, his pupils were pinpoint.  “I’m starving,” he said.  

She wanted to hug him and slap him at the same time.

“Order a pizza. We’ll talk when I get home,” she said, setting out a large glass of water and the water container in front of him.