Her own exhale felt like she was fond of the memory she was about to share. “When you began to learn how to talk, we tried?—”
“You and Dad?” Now that he was gone, Noma was my only living resource of who the man was.
“That’s right. And Grandpa.” Noma continued, “Me, your dad, and grandpa tried to teach you, grandma, after you learned ‘dada’, but you kept saying mama instead.” Tenderly, she wet my hair with a cup of water, chuckling. “I kept telling you, ‘No, mama’, because you had one of the best. I was not a replacement. I was only an addition. So, I kept correcting with ‘grandma’. But, you seemed to like the ‘no’ part since you knew that word so well.” She laughed so loud it bounced off the bare bathroom walls, warming them. “And the ‘ma’ part, blending them together on your own.” She squeezed a bottle of shampoo, letting a glob drip to the side of my hair she could reach. Then teased, “Who the hell was I to correct your stubborn ass?”
Seeing her in a different light—a different stage of my life—I smiled at her. “Why do you always like what most parents hate? Stubborn streaks.”
She scrubbed my hair, forming dripping bubbles. “Ah, that’s because to be reminded you have a fighter on your hands is a blessing. Not a curse.” She playfully smacked the back of my head. “Tilt up so I can reach.”
I lifted my head and looked forward, happy my neck wasn’t as tired. I guess you could say smiles and love can heal any broken heart. Or at least give it a reprieve from pain. “Will you ever tell me what happened to Grandpa?”
Before I finished my inquiry, she was nodding. “Yes, baby boy. I haven’t because I wanted to protect you, but… well…”
I understood what she meant. I was now well aware of the violence a club could bring. Nonetheless, putting her through more painful memories wasn’t what I wanted for this caring woman. “It’s okay. When you’re ready.”
I could feel her brown eyes gleaming at my profile while her hands stilled on my sudsy head. Then, swiping bubbles from my forehead, she slanted her head adoringly. “A gift indeed.”
I tilted my head back when she motioned so she could rinse my hair. “Noma, do you believe… in magic?”
She refilled her cup. “What kind of magic, baby boy? Like tricks by a magician?”
“No.” I wasn’t sure how to make the crazy sound normal, so I didn’t try. I only tried not to look down at the water around me, which had dancing stars. “The kind humans aren’t supposed to see.”
God may have left me with only one family member, but He picked a sacred one. She courageously told me, “I believe if it has been seen, it is real.”
I exhaled, so long, so hard, staring at this brave woman. “You don’t think the tailed girl was a part of my imagination or head injury?”
She placed the cup on the floor. “Do you understand that speaking of her may sound… odd to other people?”
I admitted, “It sounds ‘odd’ to me, too.”
It wasn’t an ironclad promise to not speak of my magical friend to anyone else, but the message was clear.
No more discussion needed about the warning, Noma confessed, “Imagination or not, I’m glad she was there.” Resting her arms on the side of the tub, her eyes bored into mine. “I will forever be in her debt.”
There was a shift in her energy at that tender moment. It would be some years before I’d understand, but acceptance is welcomed, by me, at any stage of growth.
“Noma, is there another one of you of mine?”
“Do you mean your daddy’s mama?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve never asked about her before.”
“I’ve never lost a dad before.” I wasn’t trying to sound cruel.
Luckily, Noma understood that. But, she didn’t have good news to share. “You did. I never met her, but… it seems you and your daddy were to share the same fate.”
Dad’s mom died while delivering him, also. I was sad for him and hopefully asked, “Did he have a Noma to take care of him?”
As if wishing things could’ve been different, Noma shook her head. “No. He had a club of men, though.” She giggled. “Can you imagine that? A bunch of brothers trying to raise a boy?”
“You did.”
This time, she laughed as she gently touched my cheek. “I sure did. And I tried to help with his stubborn ass once I entered their world.” Before I could ask questions, she added, “Sometimes a mom can add a much-needed touch of patience.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, then asked, “Do you think my mom would’ve… been patient—would’ve… loved me?”
