For Whom We Are Gathered

From his vantage point sitting on a strange sofa in an unfamiliar living room, Al grumbled to himself while he watched the various goings on around him.  His extended family was large and boisterous and always itching for a gathering.  

As for himself, Al and his wife of forever years, Ama had a neat little family.  Two kids.  Imani and Al Jr.  Two kids they’d raised to be smart, sensible and classy.  A snotty-nosed, laughing child ran past Al, narrowly missing stomping on his feet. 

 I don’t know who the hell are half of these people are?  And why aren’t they watching their bloody children? Al muttered to himself.

“Hey.  HEY!” he called out to his granddaughter Iris, as she chased the child.  Iris was a smart, sensible girl.  But she soldiered on past Al.  At least, she’s trying to corral that little wildling, Al thought.

He huffed.  First, I don’t remember asking anyone to bring me. Al loved his family, but he was very particular about how he spent his time - quietly and with a great book. His eyes turned to a group of kids huddled around a TV set.  Seeing the back of their heads, he couldn’t recognize any of them.  Suddenly, one of them stood and turned toward Al.

Al gasped as the boy looked almost exactly like his father, except with a friendlier face.  The boy vacantly smiled in Al’s direction, but then quickly focused his attention back to his peer group.  Al waved at the boy, but the boy’s attention was already gone.

Disrespectful kids, Al thought disdainfully as he watched the boys pass a joystick between them.  Second, they bring me to this loud house.  Then they sit me in the corner like an ugly painting gifted to them and they don’t know where to hang it, Al furrowed his brow and struggled to remember where he was. Whose house is this anyway?

The boy spoke to his friends.  “Man, I can never get past that level.  Alfie, it’s your turn.”  Another boy snatched the controller from the lone girl in the group.  The girl stood.  She wore a lovely black dress with white lace around the skirt’s hem.  She was a lovely little girl, though a bit tomboyish it seemed.  

Out of the blue, Al sees his wife, Ama floating through the cacophony.  His wife’s brown eyes caught his and she shook her head exasperatedly at him.  Then she moved to follow the little tomboy in the black dress.

“Ama, who’s this party for?” Al called out to his wife over the din.  Ama held her hands up to placate her husband.  She knew he hated these loud gatherings.  She’d be back to explain what in the hell was going on and who dragged them out of their quiet house to this madness.

While he waited for Ama to come back, he continued to watch the goings on. His daughter-in-law, Erica was sauntering about the clusters of family attempting to offer hors d'oeuvres.  It looked like Ama’s cheese puffs.   Each time Erica would offer, get rejected and move on to the next group; Al chuckled to himself.  Erica was not a good cook.  She always tried to compete with Ama and Imani and she mostly failed.  

Al Jr. eventually whispered in his wife’s ear and Erica nodded as she left the main room with the tray of appetizers.  Al Jr. watched her as she went.

“Guys, you could eat some of them…”, his son spoke to the guests closest to him.  Not if they don’t want to spend the night on the crapper, Al snarked to himself. Erica’s first cooking mishap was the raw chicken fiasco during Easter years ago.  She and Al Jr. had just gotten married.  Erica insisted on making a dish to add to the bounty Ama, Imani and Al Jr. had prepared.  Ama had to quietly toss the casserole dish into the microwave to make sure the poultry was no running red with blood.

“...She’s trying, y’all.  She wanted to make one of Mama’s recipes”, Al Jr. paused.  “To honor her.”

To honor Ama, Al thought.  Fuck me, did I forgot Ama’s birthday?  I’ll never hear the end of it.

“Ama, where are you?” Al shouted in the direction his wife disappeared.

“In a moment, Al...Jeez”, he heard his wife holler back.   Infuriating woman, Al thought fondly.

Al rolled his eyes and continued watching the gathering carry on around him.  Most were dressed as if they’d just left a church service.  Thank God whoever brought me here didn’t take me to that church.  That preacher is too long-winded, he remembered.  He recalled occasions where Ama, Imani or Al Jr. drug him to one service or another - usually Christmas or Easter.  Each time, one of the kids or the grandkids were participating in some pageant or play.  Al laughed quietly as he remembered how Imani always recited her lines like she was the star of a hostage video.  Not an actress, that one, Al thought as his eyes swept the living room finally landing her his daughter.  She looks sad.  Where’s James? Al wondered as he searched for his son-in-law.

He opened his mouth to call his daughter over, but he didn’t realize Ama had joined him in the corner.  Surprised by his wife’s sudden presence, Al exclaimed, “Damn it, woman.  You need to wear a bell like a cat.”

“Oh, shush!” Ama shot back without looking at her husband.  She was focused on all the activity in the living room.  Al just watched his wife.  She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.  Her cocoa colored eyes took in everything around them wistfully.  When a tear slipped down her cheek, Al’s heart broke.  

He reached over and cupped her cheek drawing her attention back to him.   “I’m an idiot, Babes.  I’m sorry I forgot your birthday.  My memory is not so good.  I’m getting old…” he blabbered.

“Shut up, Honey,” she silenced him.  Then she looked back at their family and spoke out to the room, “I’m going to miss them.”

Al shook his head in confusion.  “Miss? What are you…”

Ama faced Al again. “Alfred, I’m dead”, she said bluntly.  “I died last week.”

Al felt the room spin a bit.  “Dead?  Died?  I don’t understand.”

Ama moved closer as her thigh touched his.  “Cancer.  It was fairly quick. I’m glad it’s over, but,” she paused looking around as her eyes misted, “I’m going to miss them so, so much”.  

Ama leaned into her husband and smiled her dimpled smile.  Age hadn’t diminished her pretty smile.  “I knew you’d come for me.  Sorry, it took so long, but James died in a car wreck shortly after you left and Imani was a wreck...and then I just kept on living.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?  Why don’t I recognize most of these damned people?  Are you sick?  Ama, make this make sense?” Al shouted with wide eyes.

“Oh, my slow-on-the-uptake Alfred”, she smirked at him.  “Honey, you don’t recognize most of these people because you’ve been gone for over 20 years.  Remember?”

Al furrowed his eyebrows as some of what his wife said kind of made sense.  This house...This is Imani’s house, but rearranged somehow, Al thought.

Ama rolled her eyes affectionately.  “The little girl in the black dress? Our great-granddaughter Reyna.  She’s so smart, Al.  Then the boys fighting over the controller who look like your father?  Those are our twin great-grandsons Alfred and Timothy.  The child Iris was chasing? That’s her first grandchild, Nia.”

Al was flabbergasted.  “Iris... is a grandmother?”  Al’s last memory of Iris, his favorite grandchild, was at Iris’ first child’s christening.  The pride and joy of new motherhood shone on her face making her look radiant.  It was right before Al had gotten sick and died.

Died.  He had died.  And it had been over 20 years ago.  And Ama.  She had died too. Recently.  

“Babes...you didn’t suffer, did you?  I couldn’t take it if you suffered…” Al whispered as he closed his eyes.

‘Not too long.  Al Jr. and Imani took good care of me,” Ama confided quietly.  Then in a tone as gentle as a caress, she added, “Honey, it’s okay now.  All the pain is gone.” 

Al opened his eyes and nodded.  Wrapping his arm around his wife’s shoulder, they sat back and proudly watched their family.  

After a time, the whole family raised glasses and Al’s son offered a toast amongst sniffles and quiet sobs.  “To our beloved matriarch, Ama.  She was our mother and our cheerleader and our protector. She was our friend and hero.  We will miss her everyday.  But I know she’s somewhere with Dad, finally at peace.  To Mama…”

“To Mama!” Al’s family agreed.

In the corner of the living room in their daughter’s home, Al and Ama share a kiss as they fade into thin air.