I lie in the bottom of the boat curled into a closed fetal position. If I don’t look then I can’t see the last minutes of my life washing away. If I don’t move then I can’t feel the end. These have been my only thoughts for the last day or maybe it’s been two or three.
Thirst grinds against dry organs, and hunger sucks at whatever it can to abate its neglect. None of this matter, none of this will even be a stray thought. Soon it’ll be over and the last mistake on earth will cease to exist. Too bad I never found my love.
Mama’s sharp features pop into my memory. She always found something to smile about. Mama, I think, she never did give up on me. Not even when the adults, her fallers, locked me inside a hollow tree. She searched and searched never resting, never eating until she found a cloth that an adult had left behind by the bark of the tree. There I was almost beyond death, but she nursed me back to health, she poured every ounce of her strength into me so that I can live. And this is how I repay her, by giving up? A small prick punctures my chest. The woman who walked out into the quickest poison without the aid of the leaves, because she had a dream; nearly died to give me course, and this is how I repay her?
Why didn’t I ever tell her it was Papa who locked me in the tree while we were hunting? Why didn’t I tell her it was Papa who filled the villagers head with disgust for me? Why didn’t I ever say one bad thing about Papa to her?
Mama loves him, that’s why. When they’re together she shines. The time he tried to force me to choose my gender was the saddest she’s ever been. Most days she wouldn’t even talk to me or look at me. Mama loves him, I couldn’t destroy that. She loves me too and she wouldn’t want me to quit fighting.
It’s a good thing Mama isn’t here to witness me shrivel. My motivation has come a little too late. Not a single limb wishes to move at the moment. My body only sees dying. But Mama’s lovely face and her easy smile keep me company through the turbulent black waters.
Warmth touches my hand, it close my eyes, and caresses my body. I gladly fall into it.
“Saved?” A voice like Mama’s speaks into my ear. “Saved? Wake up, honey.” A hand pushes my hair out of my face. Mama used to do that. “Open your eyes Saved. It’s time to get up.”
I push the hand away and turn from the voice. “Five more minutes, Mama.”
The soft caress spreads down my back. “No more minutes Saved.” Mama lifts me up until I’m sitting. I open my eyes slowly. Mama’s sitting there with her hair spun in a bun. A pen is sticking out of one side and a stirring spoon in the other. She’s been writing and cooking at the same time again.
I pull the spoon out of her head like I always do, and lick the icing. “Hmm, cake for breakfast.” Mama laughs, and I join in.”
“I love you, my child.”
“Love you too, Mama,” I say and hug her. She pulls away. She places her hands on my shoulders.
“I see how much the words of the villagers hurt you Saved. And I wish I could do something to make it better for you.” I open my mouth to say something but she puts a finger to my lips. “It’s not okay, Saved. What they do to you is not okay. I want you to know that God creates everyone for a reason.” Mama puts her hands in mine now. “I know it may be hard to see now, but one day, Saved, you will know God’s plan.” Mama runs her hand through my hair and walks to the door. “Now get up.”
We both laugh.
My heartbeat slows; I can feel it thump less and less. But Mama’s presence holds me. Her beliefs swarm like the loving intentions they are. The lights go out, the last breaths release, and I gently begin termination. As everything shuts down, words with no meaning or precedence repeat in my head, until consciousness depletes.