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“No, no, no!” he tries to scream.
But we hold the mop. We pin him against the rolling dish rack as others lift his feet, helping him along. His face disappears into the spray of boiling water. We listen to him scream and scream. We don’t let go.
I keep my grip until he is so deep inside the scorching spray, the mop can’t reach him anymore.
Then I let it clatter to the floor.
—
THE GIRLS SIGH THEIR GRATITUDE.
The house shudders back into silence.
Kimberly finally steps forward. She snaps off the machine, looking at me in concern as the steam clears.
D.D.: “Are you okay? Bonita, nod, something!”
“Great job!” Flora’s voice, from the side entrance. The click I had heard earlier had been the door opening. And the shadow in the mist? Definitely not Flora, who looked like she could barely stand. On the other hand, Keith was covered in a sheen of sweat and appeared pleased with himself.
“How the hell did you beat us here?” Kimberly wanted to know.
“Took a shortcut. Who knew?”
“Sorry,” Keith tells me. “I’m not a knife or gun kind of guy. But I knew Special Agent Quincy and the sheriff were on their way here. I figured if I could keep the monster man distracted, buy us some time... Except, then you took care of everything. Brilliantly, I might add.”
I don’t deny him his moment of triumph. Keith can take the credit, but I know he wasn’t the only one distracting the Bad Man. Just as I know I wasn’t the only one who finally shoved him into a spray of boiling water. There are others here who needed their revenge. And we are all happy they finally got it.
D.D. steps forward. I still haven’t moved. Now she uses her left hand to brush back my hair, peer at my face.
I finally meet her gaze, smiling tentatively. D.D. looks terrible, blood on her face, her shoulder, her hands. Then there’s Flora, who can barely stand up and appears to have part of her skull cracked open. These are tough women, though. Both of them appear satisfied.
“You did good, Bonita. You did good,” D.D. tells me.
“With some help from my man,” Flora says proudly, pointing at Keith, who promptly blushes.
I smile again. I let them think what they want to think. While around me, I feel the soft caress of my mother’s spirit enfold me in a final embrace. Her silvery shadow gathers in the upper left-hand corner of the kitchen, now joined by purple, then green, then orange. Dozens of colors. Dozens of lost souls finally moving on.
They will wait for me, and watch over me. As I will always wait and watch for them.
A last kiss on my cheek. I feel it like the brush of butterfly wings. Mamita and chiquita. Together again.
Then, D.D.’s arm wraps around my shoulders. She half hugs me, half uses me to hold herself up. I welcome both as I listen to the grumbles and laughter of my new family, easing into the aftermath.
I close my eyes.
I send my love to my mother. I promise her I will live, I will love, I will find a way to be happy.
Then, I let her go.
