She nodded. "The suitcases are right there," she tilted her head toward the four pieces of luggage sitting at the bottom of the stairs.
"You okay?" Uncle Connor asked, his eyes moving over my mama as if he was looking to make sure she was all there.
"I will be. Take us away from here," she whispered.
Uncle Connor's face looked like someone was hurting him for a couple seconds, but then he smiled and looked at me. "Ready, sport?"
I nodded and followed him and my mama out the front door. They both looked around as Uncle Connor put our suitcases into the trunk of the car. There wasn't anyone outside though and when they both got in the car, they seemed relieved.
As we drove away, heading out of Pelion, I watched as Uncle Connor grabbed my mama's hand in the front seat and she turned toward him, letting out a breath and smiling a small smile.
"Me, you, and our boy," Uncle Connor said softly. "Just us."
"Just us," my mama whispered, that same soft look moving across her face.
My mama looked back at me, and paused for a second before saying, "I packed your Legos and some of your books, baby." She smiled and leaned the side of her head on the head rest, still looking at me. Her shoulders seemed to be dropping lower by the mile.
I just nodded. I didn't ask where we were going. I didn't care. As long as it was away from here, anywhere was fine.
Uncle Connor looked over at my mama. "Put your seatbelt on, Lys."
My mama smiled. "This is the first time in years I feel like I’m not strapped down against my will," she said and laughed softly. "But okay, safety first." She tilted her head and winked at him, and I grinned. This was the mama I loved seeing–when her eyes would shine, and she'd get that sweet, joking tone in her voice and say something that would make you laugh at yourself, but in a good way, a way that felt warm and nice.
My mama reached for her belt, and all of a sudden there was a large jolt and our car swerved crazily. My mama screamed and Uncle Connor yelled, "Oh shit!" as he tried to keep us on the road.
Our car spun all over and then all I heard was the scream of metal on metal, glass shattering, and my own screams as our car flipped for what seemed like hours, finally coming to a stop with a loud creaking sound.
The terror hit me hard and that's when I started to cry, squeaking out, "Help! Help me!"
I heard a loud groan from the front, and then Uncle Connor was saying my name, telling me it would be okay as I heard him moving himself out of his seatbelt and then kicking the door open. I couldn't open my eyes. It seemed like they were glued shut.
I heard the back door being pulled open, and then Uncle Connor's warm hand was on my arm. "It's going to be okay, Archer. I got your belt undone. Crawl toward me. You can do it."
I finally made myself open my eyes and look up into my uncle's face, his hand reaching toward me. I grasped his arm and he pulled me out into the warm, spring sunshine.
My uncle Connor was talking again, and his voice sounded funny. "Archer, I need you to come with me, but I need you to turn your back when I tell you to, okay?"
"Okay." Terror and confusion made me cry more.
Uncle Connor took my hand and walked down the deserted highway with me just a little bit behind him. He kept looking backwards at the car we'd gotten into a wreck with, but when I glanced back once very quickly, it didn't look like anyone was climbing out of that one. Were they dead? What had happened?
"Turn your back, Archer, and stay here, son," Uncle Connor said, and his voice sounded like he was choking.
I did as he said, letting my head fall back so that I was looking up at the clear, blue sky. How was it that anything bad could happen under a sky that clear, that cloudless and blue?
I heard a strange wailing yell behind me and I turned around, even though I knew it wasn't following directions. I couldn't help it.
My uncle Connor was on his knees on the side of the road, his head thrown back, sobbing up at the sky. My mama's limp body was in his arms.
I leaned over and threw up into the grass. I stood up a couple minutes later, sucking in air and tripping backwards over my own feet.
That's when I saw him, coming toward us. My daddy. With a gun in his hand. A look of pure hate on his face, and zigzagging. He was drunk. I tried to feel fear, but I didn't see that there was anything more he could do now. I felt numb as I moved toward my uncle Connor.
Uncle Connor lay my mama's body back down gently on the side of the road and stood up, seeing my daddy now too. Uncle Connor moved toward me and pushed me behind his own body.
"Stay back, Marcus!" he yelled.
My daddy stopped a couple feet away from us and glared at us, weaving, his eyes bloodshot. He looked like a monster. He was a monster. He waved the gun around crazily and Uncle Connor grabbed me tightly, making sure I was right behind him.