A Son's Betrayal

Marcus rounded the corner to enter the common driveway of his childhood home where his parents still lived. Brick row houses lined the street of his old neighborhood in Queens New York. Behind them the common drive led to each individual property’s small yard that provided just enough space to park a car or two. Marcus was nervous and forgot about all of the potholes and crumbling cement in back. Barreling down the drive he hit the ground with his car’s underside. “Fuck!” he yelled as he slowed down, rolled his eyes and shook his head. He stepped on the brake for a moment, two houses from his parent’s, and took a breath in then pushed it out hard through his mouth. He had not seen them for three months despite living just a twelve-minute car ride away; with two daughters, a girlfriend who was nine months pregnant, and full-time work as a union electrician it was hard to find time to visit. He knew it was more than that though and felt an immense sense of guilt since he had received his mother’s phone call to come quickly that Saturday afternoon. She was breathless and sounded defeated. Marcus didn’t ask questions. He knew whatever it was, it was serious.

    His father, Jack, had been deteriorating over the past four years. It started with minor things, like forgetting details he had read minutes ago or where he had put something just the day before. Marcus’s parents had him later in life than most of their friends had children. Both were forty years old when he was born, so at seventy-six years of age Marcus assumed that what was happening with his father was normal, but after a while things started to get worse. It frustrated Marcus to see his father, a formerly sturdy figure, start to regress and weaken. When he was there witnessing his father’s decline, he felt life slipping by beyond his control. He began to shut down and tune out the reality of what was occurring because it was just too painful. His mother followed his lead and neither made much mention of how bad it was getting. As time went on Marcus couldn’t bear to be there to see it, so the space between visits to his childhood home became wider and wider. He always made it a point to call and spoke mostly to his mother. He kept his schedule full and after a while she stopped asking when they would see him. His mother started saying, “We know you’ve got a lot on your plate honey. You come when you can Marcus,” so her recent call was out of the ordinary from their normal interaction.

    Marcus rolled toward their house and parked in the common driveway just behind their yard where they left two cars that neither drove anymore. He ran toward the back door that led to his parent’s basement and opened the door swiftly. The half-bath was the first thing you encountered as you entered the basement and Marcus was met with a repugnant odor that smelled distinctly like diarrhea. He sighed in annoyance and yelled out, “Ma!” as he put the crook of his arm over his nose.  

A frail voice coming from behind the bathroom door responded with, “Marcus, Marcus wait a minute. Let me get up.”

    He shouted louder than necessary, “Ma! Are you ok? What the hell?”

He could hear his mother grunting and struggling to rise from the bathroom floor. When she emerged, he saw that she held a wet sponge in one hand and had brown streaks across her flowered house dress. He had not recalled her ever looking this weary before. There were dark circles under her eyes, creases in her face that he had not remembered being there and a yellow shiny tint to her eyes. She remarkably resembled his grandmother toward the end of her life and he thought to himself, “When did she get this old?” Sofia apologized for calling him and explained that his father had been acting out. She opened the bathroom door and Marcus was surprised to find that the tiled walls and floor of the tiny basement bathroom were smeared with feces.

Marcus’s eyes grew wide and his speech was pressured. “Acting out?! Ma, what is this? Dad did this?” He felt his cheeks grow hot and his heart started to beat faster.

    Sofia patted his chest with her soft wrinkled hand and said, “It’s ok, it’s ok Marcus. I just got scared, but it’s ok now.”  

    Marcus looked at her in disbelief and repeated incredulously, “Ok now?” He shook his head and said, “This is not ok Ma. Why did dad do this? What happened?”

    “I…I’ve told you on the phone before,” she said. “It’s been worse.” She glanced down at her hands and frowned as her voice cracked, “I’m not sure what to do.”

He asked his mother where his father was now and she told him that he was resting on the couch upstairs just as Marcus’s phone began to ring. He reached in his back pocket and said, “Hang on mom,” as he saw that his girlfriend Gina’s sister was calling. He and Theresa got along fine enough, but they didn’t frequently talk on the phone. He knew Gina was at her sister’s house visiting that day so it worried him to see her calling.

When he answered Theresa was shrieking and out of breath, “She’s! It! The baby! Marcus…we’re headed to the hospital! She’s in labor!”

    “Holy crap!” He responded. “Ok, ok…I’m coming!”

He hung up the phone and turned to his mother. He felt a strange feeling in his body, as if he was being propelled forward yet there were cement bricks in his shoes preventing him from moving. His mother stood tall with a smile on her face, a slight twinkle in her eye.

“Ma…I…,” he was only able to choke out a few sounds.

    “Go!” she gave him a little push in the center of his chest and he didn’t budge. “Marcus! Go!” she pushed harder and he scrambled out the back door, yelling, “I’ll call you!” as he dove into the passenger side of his car, and sped off.

As Marcus drove toward the birth of his son his heart raced in anticipation and he felt his palms sweating against the steering wheel. At one point he let out a loud random laugh because he felt so giddy. He called his neighbor Milly, who was with the girls, to tell her what was happening. The birth of each daughter was a miraculous time and he had fallen in love instantly with both. His daughters were eight and twelve, and though he shared custody with their mother Nicole she was unreliable so they were more frequently with him and Gina. Gina’s pregnancy was a surprise. He had no plans of having another child at forty years old, but when Gina presented him with a positive pregnancy test he found himself over-joyed in a way that he did not expect. Everything with Gina just seemed to fall into place in an easy effortless way that made him excited and grateful to have her in his life. The girls adored Gina because she gave them the warmth and security that their own mother did not, so they were ecstatic to hear that they would be having a baby brother.

    His mind began to wander as he drove to thoughts of his own father who had him at the same age. Marcus remembered being ten years old and his dad being fifty. You wouldn’t have known it though. Jack, also a union electrician, was spry and muscular with a youthful presentation. He thought nothing of running around the playground with Marcus, coaching little league, or jumping on trampolines. His mother was the sterner figure, always chastising them for the latest “trouble” they had gotten into, whether it was eating candy until they were sick or staying up late on a school night to watch a movie. His dad was mischievous and a jokester. He loved to play tricks on his wife that led her to scream and complain, yet by the end of it all she would be doubled over in laughter because he had a coy boyish-ness about him that was hard to resist.

    Marcus and his dad bonded through mischief and playfulness, but as Marcus aged and higher education appeared on the horizon, he and Jack often fought about his future. The work his father did put Marcus into a trance. He was amazed at how his dad could fix anything electrical; how all the parts and wires were like a puzzle and his dad had the magic required to piece it together to make it work. He wanted to Jack to get him into the union, but Jack wanted Marcus to get a college education. He felt it was a better route and always regretted not doing it himself. It took a lot of convincing and Marcus agreeing to two years of college before his father would put in a word for him with the union. Marcus started his apprenticeship and nighttime college courses at the same time, but he hated college which became another source of contention between him and his father. Eventually he dropped out before he finished his associate’s degree. Jack took this almost as his own personal failure. Things between them were never quite right after that. They were good, but it always felt like there was an unspoken weight in the room.

#

    About a year earlier Jack fell down the stairs in his home and went to the hospital in an ambulance. He bruised his head and hip and had a few scrapes on his hands, but all surface injuries. The doctors at the hospital did a series of cognitive tests and diagnosed him with Alzheimer’s Disease. They suggested transferring him to Silvercrest Rehabilitation Center for a few weeks to recover. They thought it might be good for him “to get back on his feet”, but after just a few days the doctors at Silvercrest suggested that his father remain in the nursing home portion of the center, as his condition had been worsening, and he would only decline further. They warned that without significant care it would be difficult for his mother to tend to him alone. Marcus, like his mother, decided not to heed their warning, but not so much because of his own unwillingness. It was because of something his father had said to him during a visit. Marcus could never quite shake the image of his father laying in a hospital bed at the rehabilitation center. This once strong bold man looked like a shell of his former self with wisps of grey hair on his head haphazardly sticking in all directions, sagging wrinkled skin hanging from his bones, and a sullen hollowed look to his face. When Marcus first walked in his father thought he was a nurse and asked for a glass of water. Marcus said, “Dad, dad it’s me, Marcus,”, but his father didn’t know who he was referring to and asked him again to please get him some water. There was a pitcher right on the table next to his bed so Marcus scooted closer to pour some into a plastic cup and at that moment his father gripped his arm tightly, so hard in fact that Marcus almost dropped the water pitcher. Alarmed, he turned to face him. Jack’s eyes were wild with indignation.

“Marcus,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t you leave me here son. Not like this. Don’t you leave me here.”

    Marcus was stunned. “Ok, ok dad…of course…I…”

    Marcus trailed off because his father’s grip tightened and suddenly there was life in his eyes for a moment. “Promise me son, promise me you won’t leave me here. I just want to go home Marcus. I just want to be home”. His voice cracked and his face crinkled like that of a child’s as he began to sob. His entire body shook as he pleaded through sobs still gripping Marcus’s arm. “Promise me Marcus, promise me…”

    “Ok Dad, of course. I promise. I would never leave you in this crap hole. It’s just for a little while dad I promise. Just until you get better and then you’ll come home with mom. I promise Dad.” A lump the size of a softball had crept up into Marcus’s throat and it took every ounce of effort to not sob with his father. He nodded and rubbed his arm to reassure him. As Jack’s breathing slowed and tears subsided, he looked at Marcus with softness in his eyes.

    “Never a nursing home, Marcus.” Jack said.

    “No, dad,” Marcus responded. “Never. I promise.”

#

Gina was 35 years old and this was her first child. She had been so nervous about giving birth, but her labor was short and sweet, not at all the horror she feared it would be. That Saturday afternoon at 3:27pm Jack Marcus Williams slid his way into the world effortlessly. Marcus was in absolute awe of his son and called his mother almost immediately after the birth on Facetime to proudly show her the baby. She cried when she saw him and told Marcus that little Jack looked just like him when he was born. Gina had this thing with not wanting the baby out of the house for at least six months and no visitors for the first month. Marcus thought the best way to build his immune system was to “throw him into the fire” so to speak, but Gina was indignant. So Marcus sent photos to his mother and did a few Facetime phone calls. Each time his father was resting, but his mother was elated and took Gina’s request about the month in stride. During their fourth Facetime call Marcus’s mother answered and the room she was in was quite dark. He could barely make out her face. He asked her to put a light on and at first she refused, but with coaxing from Gina she agreed.

Sofia asked them to not be alarmed and said insistently, “He didn’t even know who I was.”

    Gina and Marcus gave each other a puzzled look as his mother turned to pull the lamp cord. When she turned back Gina gasped loudly, “Mom, what happened!?” she cried. Marcus was shocked. His mother’s top lip was swollen and black and blue. Her right eye was purple and bulging and closed tight.

    “He didn’t even realize it was me,” she explained. “He thought he was having a fight with someone from long ago, but I’m okay. Really I’m okay.” But as “okay” slipped from her lips her shoulders fell forward in a fit of uncontrollable sobs. Again, not something Marcus remembered from his mother. She had a flair for melodrama, but was not a crier. The sound of her sobs pulled at his chest and his throat tightened.

    Gina put one hand on top of his and kept the other snuggly cradling little Jack as she turned to his mother, “Sofia, you can’t do this anymore. This is too much. It’s too dangerous. Remember what we talked about with the nursing home?”

    “The what?!” Marcus looked at her in horror.

    Gina turned to him in disbelief. “Marcus, she can’t do this anymore. It’s dangerous. Do you see your mother’s face?”

Marcus thought of the promise he made to his father that day in the nursing home. “Never, I promise.” He looked at his mother’s swollen bruised face. He looked into Gina’s warm brown eyes and down to their son asleep in her arms. It felt like the room was spinning. In his mind this was this ultimate betrayal. He stared down at his lap for what seemed like an hour when Gina finally shook the hand that laid on top of his.

“Marcus,” she whispered gently. “They can’t go on like this. Look at her face.”

 Marcus felt as if there had been a lump rising in his throat for many years and for the first time in as long as he could remember he let tears flow from his eyes. They dropped down his cheeks and slid from his chin onto his hands in his lap. He let his neck hang and his shoulders shake while Gina held his hand tightly and leaned her head into his arm. He just kept thinking, “How can I betray my father like this?”

Then he heard his mother’s voice and it sounded so far away. “Marcus, when you made that promise to your father you did what was right. I know you meant that promise and I felt the very same way. You know how much I love your father. I didn’t want him in a home either, but the situation has changed drastically and I can’t do this anymore, honey.”

    He jerked his head up toward his mother in surprise and she solemnly nodded as if to say “yes.” Her swollen blue face was a shock again. It really did look terrible.

    She told him, “I was right outside the door.”

    He suddenly realized how much his mother bore silently. He complained about her being dramatic, but realized she was holding quite a bit in; trying to be brave for both him and Jack. She was holding it all together for everyone and he completely brushed by her pain despite the fact that he saw it there all along. He thought about the incident in the bathroom, right before little Jack was born, and how he never returned to it. He let her sit with alone.  

    “Silvercrest, Ma?” He asked her quietly.

    She responded, “It was really a lovely place Marcus.”

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