Mr. Church Page #5

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and put my ear up to her mouth

just to make sure.

Other times,

it was so heavy with struggle

that I had to back as far away

as I could just to stand it.

And other times,

it was all Mama.

There she is.

I have a plate of cheese and

grapes for you in the ice box.

How's she doing?

She had a good day.

And you, my dear,

have come at the perfect time.

You need to wake her

so she can eat.

I want you to take this to her.

I have homework.

Oh, come on, Charlotte.

She had a good day.

She's still going to die,

Mr. Church.

Hey, you're awake.

I thought I heard Charlie.

Did she come right up

from school?

Yeah, she's doing her homework.

She didn't want to disturb you.

You're a terrible liar,

Mr. Church.

You want some company?

Mm-hmm.

"She always accompanied him

"to the first step

of the stairs.

"When his horse had not yet

been brought around,

"she'd stayed there.

"They had said good-bye.

"There was no more talking.

"The open air wrapped around her

"playing with the soft down

"on the back of her neck,

"or blew to and fro on her hips,

"the aprons strings

that fluttered like streamers.

Love, she thought,

must come suddenly..."

My mama had been the sun to me.

I basked in her warmth.

I remember wanting to wake up

in the morning just to see her.

But now that sun was on fire,

seemed to burn

everything in sight.

If I got too close,

my skin stung.

But Mr. Church,

he could walk

right through her blaze

without so much as a singe.

He was like the moon,

cool, calm, and always there.

So, I learned to turn away

from the sun

and face the moon.

This is excellent work.

The Bronte sisters

would have been proud.

It was visiting day

at the prison.

I don't know why

they force Poppy to go.

She just ends up smoking

with a bunch

of locked-up creeps

staring at her.

Hey, they're her parents,

Charlotte.

Apple?

Of course.

Oh...

Larson told me to let you know

that his group of drunks

loved the pie you donated.

Have you seen that place?

The thing's pretty dreary.

Well, I guess being a drunk

is dreary, huh?

Hey, your mom's going to need

a bath tonight.

Mr. Church

stopped smoking in the house

once Mama passed

the six-month mark.

Guess he realized

she wasn't going anywhere,

and he didn't want

to hurry her along.

We each had our duties.

Mr. Church fed Mama,

gave her medicine,

took her blood pressure,

temperature, held pots

under her face when she threw up.

Carried her to and from the bathroom

when she needed to go.

And with all that,

he still called her ma'am.

And she still called him

Mr. Church.

My one and only job

was to bathe Mama.

And I hated it.

How was...

How was school today?

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