The Fruit of Our Grief

The Fruit

of

Our Grief

William M. Williams

Copyright © 2024 William M Williams

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 979-8-9913767-0-9

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Table of Content

Chapter 1

The vehicle jolted down the highway as Ethan’s gazed into the endless darkness beyond the window. He stood witness to the giants of the forest, their presence casting a dark, ominous shadow over the land. In contrast, the grass seemed as shallow as a whisper, in comparison to the rustling trees. A bitter gust of wind stirred the leaves, scattering them in a moment of panic, as the car passed by. Despite the unforgiving elements, the branches tolerated the restlessness. Farther away, a family of birds flew near the wooded abyss. One of the tiny Caroline Chickadees slammed against the limb of a tree and crashed on the concrete. Fallen from heavenly grace laid a feathered corpse.

From the bushes emerged a fox, a harbinger of death, sniffing and scouring the air. The scavenger paused. Then cautiously, the feral creature crouched toward the ground. Its eyes fixated on the beaked victim. Next, it snatched the bird with bared fangs, tearing flesh, and cracking hollow bones. After the fox’s unholy communion, it vanished into the bushes. The only traces of the kill were feathers and a bloody residue. A few miles down the road, a highway sign with the word East came into focus. In this case, the direction was toward Mississippi.

Ethan turned toward the driver. Kendra, his mother, head swayed in a rhythmic motion to the radio. Tied in a bun, her hair-- bopped, hopped, and hip rolled-- to Formation by Beyonce. Ethan observed as she shimmied in the seat. Somehow, she had the energy despite driving the whole trip. Ethan, a teen with a worn-out brown skin tone, found himself unable to lift his head. He began dozing off on the journey, now approaching a seven-hour drive.

They stopped at hotels along the way, but he wished they had taken a plane. His mom claimed they didn't have the money. Whereas Ethan knew this road trip, providing them what she called quality time together, was a scheme to force him to confess. Several times during the trip, his mother tried to sneak in a question about that winter. She echoed his therapist. With his counselor, Ethan’s responses were minimal at best. During sessions, he’d stare at the counselor— fidgeting. He avoided eye contact, gazing at the bleak walls until their appointment ended. Sometimes Ethan might attempt the exercises, most futile breathing techniques. Yet, none of it altered the past. He’d rather express his feelings on his own terms. Whereas his mother perceived his silence as a ticking time bomb, especially if he didn't tell her. Ethan assumed she had an unspoken desire to ward off the spirit of solitude that haunted her. Her silent struggles went unnoticed or disregarded by most of her friends. At first, her cleaning rituals didn't seem a concern. Until at the old house, she would sweep the grass, slaving to make the front yard perfect. Recently, she started wiping down the lamps at the hotels. He assumed it was her way of staying in control of the chaos. After she had no choice but to sell the house, she seemed more uptight than when— his father died. Her nervous tics, or what Ethan referred to as her demons, took more control. Possessing her to do abnormal things.

As Ethan watched his mother dancing to another song. She noticed his gaze and smiled with a perfect row of teeth. Flawless as they were, the sound of a broken record was behind them. With her eyes stabbing him, he predicted the question but couldn’t stop the routine. Kendra turned down the radio.

Want to talk about it? She asked as she had done before.

No. Ethan replied, tugging at his shirt. He looked out the window, gazing at the passing scenery.

"I miss him too. It’s okay not to be okay."

Yup, Ethan recoiled. Knowing within an hour they would have the same conversation again. Ethan assumed his mother sought her own answer, or a script he refused to follow.

# # #

The house was huge, not like a mansion, but had enough room to hold two more people. Unlike the rest of the houses in Mississippi, it had siding walls instead of old bricks. Rather than seeing a horse, like the one a few miles back, Ethan saw a sports car in the driveway, the latest Ferrari. As Kendra approached, Ethan saw the grim gate that enclosed the house. Unlike the neighboring homes, this place had cameras that stared back. Ethan shifted his gaze from the house, feeling as if unseen eyes were watching him. He wondered if this place would be his cage.

The security gates opened; and Julian, his uncle, and David, Julian’s partner, were waiting by the front door. Ethan didn’t know too much about his uncle because the man never kept in contact. His mom claimed his uncle was a private person, but still family. To Ethan, Uncle Julian, with a bald-fade and a suit, was a stranger; he only knew his uncle as the CEO of a health company. Next to his uncle was David, his partner of nine years. Like Uncle Julian, David was a mystery. Ethan's mother mentioned it was strange that Julian and David weren't married, or at least engaged. Since David had lived with Julian for about five years, Kendra assumed they were on schedule for marriage, even buying a ring for Julian to propose. Sometimes Ethan would eavesdrop when she called Uncle Julian. That’s if his uncle responded to her calls. Even if he answered, it was as though she was the only person on the line. Most of the time, from what Ethan overheard, Uncle Julian didn’t discuss his business, including his romantic life. Despite the lack of information, Kendra always praised David. Ethan didn’t know either of them or pretend to, so he had no opinion. In fact, he would have rather been somewhere he felt comfortable— not with strangers.

Ethan noticed David's shirt was sand-colored like a beach. It complimented his waves, his short black hair. Ethan’s mother described it as a breeze brushing against a pond. In his opinion, David resembled a modern hippie. David’s pants were too loose, but clean. Meaning that he didn’t dress homeless but had a relaxed fit. His clothes were the same as weirdos at earth day concerts. Better yet, David dressed like people at those coffee shops. The places with plants and man buns. In contrast, Uncle Julian wore a constricted suit which appeared tailored and luxurious. It seemed the fabric had never experienced filth as if dry cleaned weekly. Like his uncle’s attire, the house appeared polished and sophisticated. At the front door, David leaned against the house, unbothered. While Uncle Julian stood rigid, a bit unnerving. Seeing that their guest was entering the driveway.

Kendra parked the car and stepped out. Without hesitation, David skipped to the trunk and grabbed their bags. Ethan sighed, shooting a glare at David, the stranger unloading their belongings. Ethan figured the man didn’t know personal boundaries but appreciated the effort. Whereas for Uncle Julian, it took long enough but he helped bring the rest in the house.  

As they stepped in, Ethan noticed the flooring, rich birch wood, which led to a staircase with a vintage railing— for his mother to deep clean. As Ethan watched her check for dust, he hoped she wouldn’t break anything. The place was a bit old fashioned, fragile— not dusty, but that wouldn’t stop her. She would disinfect all the expensive antiques and surfaces. Her gaze suggested she would start with the flooring.  Above the floors, a silver chandelier hung which made the walls a golden tan. On the left side of the house was the dining room, with a warm luminosity, which merged into the kitchen. An island, with a marble countertop, was in the middle of the space that had more birch flooring. The wood floors led back to the staircase which then went to the living room. This part of the house had lounge couches, a brick fireplace, and a library of books. Next to the books was a bar stand with a sign that read, David's Fun Time. Above the bar was a glass case with different colored bottles, most likely expensive liquor. In other words, David was a hippie and a daytime alcoholic.  Ethan wrote a mental note about his uncle’s mysterious lover.

Ethan's attention returned to the entrance of the house. He watched as his mother ran to David and Uncle Julian with open arms. Without a doubt, her hair swung from joy as David embraced Kendra's love. Unlike his partner, Uncle Julian had stepped away. For a glimpse, his mother looked as if she was slapped in the face. She stepped back, a reaction that seemed irritated and hurt. She huffed, spreading her arms out, again, toward Uncle Julian. Yet, his uncle raised a brow, staring at her from afar. Ethan knew she pretended to be okay, but his uncle’s gesture had stung her. Meanwhile, Uncle Julian stepped around her and walked up the stairs. His uncle grabbed some bags and tossed their belongings into the rooms. Ethan noticed their host, Uncle Julian, chose bedrooms farthest away from the office. From down the hall, his uncle announced he didn't want people near his workspace. Ethan didn't care, but he felt unwelcomed. He noticed David’s glare, with an eye-roll, toward Uncle Julian. Ethan assumed David forced their invitation to the house. Of course, from her glance toward David, Ethan figured his mother helped.

How long y'all fixin' to stay? Julian dropped the last bag in the room. At the same time, David side-eyed Uncle Julian, biting his lip as if holding back words.

Until we have enough money, Kendra smiled. She dropped the smirk once Uncle Julian turned away.

The doorbell rang and Uncle Julian headed to the front. Before Julian could protest, a woman stepped through the door. Ethan noticed her baby bump as she tried to tuck her shirt over it. She used to have an hourglass frame but now had a bowl-shaped appearance.

He thought pregnancy was inevitable for his older cousin, Lanna. Her social media had photos of her drinking and twerking on shirtless guys. Nonetheless, he didn’t judge, but she was a college girl. By all means, he admitted she had a wild side. Yet, the facade hid her insecurities— her flaws. Even now, she hunched over, smiling and hiding her stomach again. Despite this, Lanna’s online persona was quite different. Her comment section mentioned her as untamed, free-spirited, and trendy. Yet, Ethan thought of her as the expectations and isolation that came with fame. To him, she was her own critic and paparazzi. Even when they were younger, her hair resembled a Mohawk, but she had a tamed voice.

Now, a few of Lanna's afro-curls got into Ethan's eye as she hugged him. It was a bear hug, if the animal was pregnant and smelt like lavender. She almost squeezed the life out of