Work Text:
“I’ll take care of you, mama…” The boy whispered as he moved the wet cloth around his mother’s face. She’d caught the sickness and the medical men refused to help her. So he would. He’d help his mother and make her well again.
His mother was a ghastly shade of white and had dark circles under her eyes. Her once shining brown hair was tied back in a loose pony tail, limp and lifeless. She was weaker than yesterday and her heart beat wasn’t as strong as before. There was a rattling in her lungs still, a yellowing in her eyes. His daddy had left him alone with his mama. His brother had died of the same sickness.
He was alone, but he would save his mama.
She coughed up more blood today, did mama. She’d coughed so bad he thought that she was going to hack up her lung. She’d thrown up the lunch he’d made her into the bucket again and then fell back into a faint like before.
But he’ll take care of his mama, he would.
“The… the angels are commin’ for me, boy.” He heard her say one night. “They is singin’ me a song…” And then he couldn’t understand her words any more. She spoke of the angels often, these lifeless and soulless beings that he’d never seen before. But he believed, oh hell he believed.
“They isn’t gonna take you away, mama. I gotcha, you’re gon get better and we’s gonna make them flowers again. You’ll see, mama. You’ll see.”
And one night as the boy was cleaning her forehead of sweat, his hands stained in her blood, his eyes weary and tired… she stopped her pains. She was breathing steadily, her eyes were open and she looked down at the boy with open arms. “My boy…” She’d whispered to him, distant and far away. “My boy, you is so kind. You is so brave…”
-
By the time medics finally reached their little home in southern New Orleans, both mother and boy were within each other’s arms. They looked peaceful in death, said a white medic as he covered them both in a blanket. His mother had tried to save him during his sickness and babbling. He’d constantly referred to her being taken by the angels and saving his mother. It was a shock to see that their pleas had gone unanswered. It was horrifying to see the boy’s father on the floor by their bedside, sobbing. It was tragic to know that they hadn’t come quick enough.