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Drama

Mick sprinted through the woods with an open book in one hand and a wooden sword in the other. “Ha, I have you now!” he exclaimed, skidding to a halt and pointing the sword at a very confused squirrel. “You killed my father and burned down the castle! You thought you’d get away with it but I tracked you down! Now spit out a confession, heathen, or face the wrath of Sir Harvey!”


The squirrel dropped its nut and scampered up a tree.


“No, you’re not supposed to give up!” Mick called after it. “That’s the part where you call me a ‘sentimental fool’ and we duel to the death!”


He pointed at the line of dialogue in his book but, sadly, squirrels don’t read. Or duel to the death.


Frustrated, Mick stabbed his sword into the ground and plopped down onto the mossy grass. Coincidentally forgetting that his mother had said not to get his good pants dirty. Or to not go into the nearby woods. Or to play with wild animals. Or to stop picking his nose.


Mick scratched his inner nostrils as he stared up at the clouds.


“That’s a monkey,” he said aloud, “A clown...A fairy…Octopus-thingy…Bunny-”


“What you doing?”


Mick’s nose picking hand grabbed his sword and swung it around.


The redheaded girl squeaked and threw up her arms. 


“Don’t hurt me!”


“No!” Mick roared. “This is the part where we duel to the death!”


“But…but…I don’t wanna die,” the girl said, her round glasses askew and her bottom lip quivering.


Mick rolled his eyes. “Fine!” he said. “If you don’t wanna die you can be the hero and I’ll be the villain. Happy?


“What’s the difference?” she asked.


“The hero gets a happily ever after and the villain gets stabbed through the heart, like, a thousand times and then dies,” Mick explained, as f it was the most obvious thing in the world.


“Oh.”


“Now do you wanna play or not?” Mick said, tapping his foot impatiently.


“But I don’t even know who you are,” the girl pointed out.


“Mick Harvey,” he answered. “But that’s Sir Harvey to you peasant! Unless you’re a knight too…”


“Oh,” she said, pushing up her glasses and offering her hand to shake. “I’m Mona Connell-”


“McConnell?”


“No. Connell.”


“On guard, Lady McConnell!” Mick cried, aiming his sword at Mona’s throat.


“Uh, what am I supposed to fight with?”


Mick stopped to think and scratch the inside of his nose. “Hmmm… Well, a gun’s almost as good as a sword, I guess.”


Now Mona was just confused. “Gun?”


Mick raised his non-nose picking hand and made a gun with his forefinger and thumb, aiming right at Mona’s heart. “Bam!”


“MICK! WHERE HAVE YOU RUN OFF TO THIS TIME?!?!”


Mick said a word that Mona’s father grunted whenever the truck wouldn’t start. The boy rushed over and picked his book up off the ground. Mick pushed past a very confused Mona without another word.


Mona chased after him. “We just moved here,” she said quickly. “My daddy took over the graveyard and mum helps in the church. He said that I should go out and make friends before school starts. There aren’t a lot of kids-”


“MICKEY HARVEY! IF I DON’T SEE YOU IN TEN SECONDS, I AM VISITING YOUR FATHER WITHOUT YOU!”


He knew his mother was lying but Mick broke into a sprint towards the graveyard anyway. Leaving Mona all alone at the wood’s edge, staring after the boy with a book and a sword in hand.

#

Kimmy and Stella Harvey and Pip Starling were the first to arrive at the hospital with Jerome Connell running in not long after. The doctors hurried Jerry off to be with his daughter while Kimmy talked to the police officers. She did not cry but if one looked closely, just behind the eyes, the break in her spirit was visible as a day. Yet, even when she said, “My son is dead,” her voice was even.


The officer, her husband’s old partner Kurt Terry, nodded.


“I’m really sorry, Kimmy,” he said. “Unfortunately, with the collision and the commotion that came about afterwards, the killer got away. As soon as Ms. Connell feels up to it, we’ll have someone draw up a description.” He placed a hand on Kimmy’s arm. “This ain’t gonna be like Tim. We’ll find the bastard, Kimmy.”


Kimmy shrugged his hand off.


“Thanks, Kurt.”


Jerry came back into the reception room a few minutes after the police had left.


Pip and Stella jumped to their feet.


“Mona-?”


“Pushed through the birth,” Jerry told them. “They’re stabilizing her now. The baby’s fine. A healthy baby girl.”


The kids sighed with relief.


“Name?” Kimmy said.


“Pardon?”


“Well, baby has to have a name doesn’t she?”


“They’d decided on Mina,” Pip said miserably. “Mick liked it cuz its ‘Mini-Mona.’ And Mona cuz of Mickey and Minnie Mouse. The baby’s half of the other.”


Jerry almost smiled. “I like that. Mina it is then. Mina Harvey.”


“How is she really?” Stella asked. “Mona, I mean. Did she really get hit by a car?”


Jerry’s frown returned full force. “Impact broke her water. Caused some internal bleeding. It could’ve been way worse though. Mona…Well, my girl’s a fighter.” He looked over at Kimmy. “Mick-?”


“Mick’s dead. Apparently shot straight through the heart,” Kimmy told him, eyes dry. “They say it was probably quick and painless.”


“Do you want me to take you over to see… him?” Jerry asked.


Kimmy shook her head. Mind already made up.


“The police already offered but no,” she said. “Mona needs us now. He’d never forgive me for leaving her just to go see a body. Maybe in the morning.” Kimmy reached out and patted Jerry’s shoulder. “You okay?”


Jerry blinked.


Kimmy Harvey was the strongest woman he’d ever met. Yet she’d just lost her son. As a parent who’d just seen his daughter screaming and near bleed out, Jerry knew this was all a front. So he hugged her hard and after few seconds Kimmy accepted the embrace. Jerry Connell was the kindest man she knew. With him, Kimmy almost allowed herself to cry.


Almost.


Pip and Stella watched the father and mother comfort each other. Stella sniffed and wiped her face, only smearing her makeup worse. Pip shuffled miserably over to one of the vending machines. He put the money in… and just stood there, staring through the glass. As if maybe, if Pip looked hard and long enough, he’d see his best friend’s reflection smiling back at him.


“Other people have to eat too, Pip,” Stella said, having walked up behind him.


“Yeah.”


“Get me something, yeah?”


Pip gestured for her to go ahead and choose.


Stella stared at him long and hard before choosing some chips. “We’ll share.”


“Stella…”


“Yeah?”


“Mick’s dead.”


Stella looked away, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Jesus Christ, Pip… I know he’s… Christ!”


Pip turned away from his unchanging reflection and looked at Stella. And then past her. Jerry and Kimmy were talking in small voices. Probably about Mona and the baby. Hopefully the doctors would let them see both soon. And then they’d have to tell Mona that…


“Mick’s dead,” Pip said again.


Before Stella could curse him out, the hospital doors slid open. 


The woman who walked in was very beautiful. Her long red hair almost reached the hem of her white coat and shined like blazing silk. Her face was barely touched by time and only then it was only around her giant eyes and the corners of her thin lips. They were pursed tight at the moment. As if the woman had just been forced to smell the most terrible of odors. Both gloved hands were wrapped tight around the small, silver cross she wore. They didn’t tremble. In fact, Georgia Connell looked more wary of her current surroundings than even slightly distraught.


It took a few seconds for her presence to truly sink in.


Then Kimmy rounded on Jerry.


“You called her?!?!”


Jerry raised his hands to protect his face. Just in case. “She didn’t answer so I left a voice message,” he said. “I didn’t think she’d actually-”


“I came as soon as I heard,” Georgia declared. “Now where is my Ramona?”


“The doctors are doing their best to stabilize her, Georgia,” Jerry said quickly before Kimmy could speak. “Until then we have to stay in the waiting room for the go ahead. Georgia-”


“Did she miscarry?” Georgia asked.


“No,” Stella said as she and Pip walked back over. “She had a baby girl.”


“Name?”


“Mina.”


Georgia wrinkled her nose.


“Not the name I would have chosen.”


Pip said, “Mick’s dead.”


Stella groaned but Georgia simply said, “Who is Mick?”


Stella saw the spark of fury flash through Kimmy’s eyes. She quickly grabbed her aunt by the forearms. Jerry had seen it too. He walked slowly towards Georgia.


“Come on,” he said, draping a warm arm around her shoulders. “Let’s talk outside.”


Georgia knocked his hands away. “No, Jerome! I came here to see my daughter!” She brushed past Jerry, towards the front desk. Georgia greeted the nurse with a pretty smile. “Excuse me. Can you please, please give me my daughter’s room number? Ramona Connell’s her name.”


The nurse gave the list a once over and then shook her head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but our doctors are still looking your daughter over,” she said. “She lost a good deal of blood.”


Georgia’s smile remained ironclad. “And the baby? May I see her?”


“Georgia,” Jerry pleaded. “Please, let’s at least go over what we know. What the police told us.”


Georgia was unfazed by her estranged husband’s pleas. “Please, I just want to see my granddaughter.”


The nurse glanced unsure from one Connell to the other.


Surprisingly, it was Pip who spoke up.


“They were attacked,” he said. “Mick saved her. He kept her from getting killed by the mugger.”


“Well, he did a fine job,” Georgia responded coolly.


Stella let go of Kimmy’s arm.


“Listen, lady!” she bellowed. “I don’t know what your problem is but your daughter just got hit by a car right after the father of her kid was shot dead! Does that even register? Don’t you care at all?!”


The mask broke.


Georgia turned to Stella. “Are you a mother, little girl?” she asked, eyes slits. “No. So of course you can’t begin to fathom what my ‘problem’ is. I came here, in the dead of night, because I believed my daughter to be dying. My granddaughter needs me. As her grandmother it is only fair that I see her, care for her, love her. So, in God’s name, learn your place.” She took a deep breath and spoke to the stunned nurse. “Please take me to my granddaughter. Now.”


“I understand.”


Georgia turned, ready unleash God’s fury.


She stopped dead. 


Kimmy was staring unblinking at her. She began taking slow steps forward. Kimmy’s voice was even as she said, “Let’s talk about fair, Georgia. Shall we? I will never get the chance to say goodbye to my son while every time before today, you’ve treated your daughter with hostility at worst and indifference at best whenever she jumped through hoops just to get so much as a hello. Is that fair? When Mona came out pregnant, I had her in my kitchen, crying. Why? Well, because her dear, sweet mother slapped her around while calling her a whore. And even after that, she still invited you to the baby shower. Is that fair? And again you spat in her face by not showing up. She finally wised up but yet here you are. Ready to snatch the baby up. Why is that? Is it because Mina Harvey’s pure? What happens when she inevitably cocks up? Are you going to slap her around and call her a whore too? Now, Georgia, dear, is that really fair?”


Georgia looked around, searching for help.


Kimmy slapped her.


Georgia yelped and grabbed at her reddening cheek. “How dare y-!”


Kimmy grabbed hold of the cross and punched her right in the face. Georgia fell screaming to the floor. Still, no one moved to help her. Kimmy Harvey stood over Georgia, her face warped into its own mask. One of terrifying fury.


“Kissing God’s ass doesn’t get you into Heaven.” She dangled Georgia’s cross in front of her wide eyes, the chain torn. “You’re not Mona’s mother. You’re not a mother at all. A child isn’t there to make you look good. Isn’t there to dress up like a pretty doll. They don’t live for you. You live for them. Bet that’s something you never learned in Sunday school, Georgia. Lord probably assumed it was so obvious it didn’t need to be taught.”


Kimmy flung the cross at Georgia’s chest.


“Way to prove Him wrong.”


Kimmy grabbed her things and turned to a stunned Jerry, Stella, and Pip. “I’m sorry, Jerry.”


After a few tries Jerry said, “It’s, uh, fine.” He glanced past her, at his weeping wife. “Just fine…”


Kimmy gestured to the kids. “Take these two home when you can, will you?”


Jerry nodded.


With that Kimmy walked out the hospital doors. A few feet away from the entrance, she glanced back. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Mickey,” she said, feeling the mark that Georgia’s cross had bit into her palm, hating God for taking away her son. “I’m sorry.”

#

It was an uncharacteristically sunny day, that of Mick Harvey’s funeral. Little Mina dozed off during most of the sermon. Kimmy carried her throughout. Quite a few people showed up yet Mona was still being kept at the hospital. Even when discharged, she didn’t build up the courage to truly say goodbye until many months later.


And even then it was just to a stone.


It was raining that day and Mina was hypnotized by raindrops pitter patting upon the red umbrella. Jerry had paid for the coffin and tombstone and had put them in himself. Mona loved her father more than ever for that.


Mina reached out and curled her tiny fists in Mona’s scarf. Her giggles echoed throughout the graveyard like a bell in the darkness.


It was the only thing that kept Mona from going completely numb. She dropped to her knees in front of his grave, tickling Mina’s face with her long, dark red hair.


Their baby’s giggles grew ever louder.


MICKEY HARVEY

1997-2012

SON. FATHER. SWORDSMAN.


Mona had fought hard for that last one.


She knew he would have loved it.


Mina was now chewing the scarf between her gums, staring off at all the pretty flowers decorating the other rocks. She had no way of understanding why they were there. Or why her mother was crying. Or why other people besides herself cried at all.


Absolutely innocent. 


“Hey, Mick…It’s, uh, McConnell here…Sorry it took me so long to come by. I just…I…”


It took a few minutes for Mona to catch her breath.


“Meet your daughter…Mina Harvey.”


Lightning streaked across the sky. The clap of thunder that followed startled Mina, making her cry. Mona cried too. For what felt like forever.


“God…I miss you…You saved us. Both of us…You beautiful idiot.” 


Finally, after coming to terms with the fact that Mick wasn’t scratching up through the dirt and reuniting with his girls anytime soon, Mona got back to her feet.


Whether at home or outside in the rain, Mona Connell was only alive because her daughter’s small beating heart, giggles, and crying kept her going. She clutched the umbrella tight, keeping it steady over their heads and Mina was instantly under the tap-tap-tap’s sway again.


She was asleep by the time they reached home. By then the sun had fought its way through the clouds, basking mother and daughter in its light. Mona tipped her umbrella back and felt its warmth across her tear-stained cheeks. Like warm hands, it cupped her face. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to believe, if only for a second...


"On guard, Sir Harvey," she whispered to his ghost.


She entered the house and walked into Mina's room. She set the baby down in her crib. Her daughter's small hand curled around Mona's fingers as she slept.


"On guard, Lady Harvey," she chuckled.


Not five feet away, a wooden sword leaned against the nearby wall.


It had belonged to a Harvey once. One day it'd belong to another.

June 25, 2021 22:31

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