Twisted Roots (DeBeers 3)

"Yes, she's home and she's just workin' in the kitchen and cryin' at the same time,:' Elisha said.

Heyden looked at me.

"Go on," I said. "I'd better get home anyway."

"Where'd you get that guitar? You take it from your precious school?" Elisha asked.

"Where I got it is none of your business, Elisha, but you touch it, even look at it too long, and I'll--"

"Kill me? Get in the back of the line," she muttered and then glared at me, but with more of a plea for help, a look of desperation than empty anger.

She turned and walked back into the house.

'Don't be too hard on her, Heyden. I'm sure she's very frightened."

"As frightened as a shark." he said. "Don't worry, Dr. Hannah. I'll be a good big brother."

I laughed. "Call me later if you can." I told him.

"Okay," he said, leaned over to kiss me on the lips, and then smiled and stepped out of the car. "Drive carefully... partner," he said.

I smiled back at him and started away. In my rearview mirror I saw him holding on to his guitar tightly, embracing it lovingly and protectively before walking into his home the way someone would embrace and protect a little loved one in a hurricane.

Back at my home, Miguel came bouncing down the stairs the moment I opened the front door and stepped inside. He paused near the bottom step.

"Where have you been, young lady?" he demanded. It wasn't often that Miguel was angry at me, but I knew whenever he referred to me as young lady, he was about to reprimand me far something.

"I had to help my friend Heyden get his new guitar," I told him.

'Do you realize your mother has been home for hours and has been lying there thinking all sorts of terrible things? Don't you ever turn that cell phone on. Hannah? Why did I buy it for you if you're going to let the battery die down or forget to turn it on? How can you be so self-centered at a time like this? Don't you realize how traumatic it is for a woman to Give birth and then have to leave her newborn infant back in the hospital? I had a lot more respect for your intelligence until today, Hannah."

"I told you!" I cried back at him, the tears streaking down my cheeks. "I had to help Heyden. It was very important. He needed me."

"Your mother needed you, too. and I would think she would have some priority over someone you just met. Hannah."

"She doesn't need me. She has you: she has little Claude," I shot back.

"What kind of a dumb thing to say is that?"

"Maybe I'm just stupid!" I screamed and shot past him. pounding my way up the stairs and to my room. I slammed the door shut behind me and threw myself on the bed.

Moments later Mommy, dressed in her robe, came to my door, knocked softly, and entered.

"What's going on. Hannah?" she asked.

I turned and looked up at her. She looked drawn, tired, even a bit pale. I had a terrific surge of guilt rush through me and just started to cry, bawl like a girl half my age,

"Oh. Hannah, what's wrong?" she asked coming to me. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I just lost track of the time."

"That's all right." she said, sitting on my bed. "but tell me what you're doing? Why did you lose track of time?"

"Heyden didn't come to school today," I began. "Heyden? Oh, yes, your new friend. And?"

"So I went to see what was wrong and learned his father has deserted his mother, sister, and him. He ran off with someone from his band, and it had happened weeks ago, but Heyden's mother never said anything until last night."

Mommy nodded. She didn't look impressed with my story. and I imagined that over the years she had heard many similar tales of woe.

"What does his mother do?"