Five weeks earlier

Ms. Brook talked on the phone with Maria for a good thirty minutes. When those two got going, they did not stop. Ms. Brook congratulated Maria and then she said, “Mateo is pretty upset.” She had not removed her hand from his back.

He rested his head on her shoulder.

On the other line, Maria said, “I had a feeling. He turned gray when I told him.”

“He’s asked to spend the night here,” Ms. Brook said. “Do you want to come over, too?”

“I’m fine, Ms. Brook. Promise,” Maria answered. “Besides, the girls invited me for a girls’ night out to celebrate. Mateo needs you more than I do. He’s pretty tired, so I want somebody to look after him tonight. I can drop off an overnight bag on my way to the restaurant.”

Ms. Brook nodded. “All right. That sounds like a plan. Congrats again, dear.”

Maria giggled. “Thank you. I’ll be over in ten.”

“See you then.” Ms. Brook hung up. She returned the phone to its stand. Her eyes rolled over to the broken coffee table.

“I’m sorry about your table, Mamá,” Mateo said. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“No, it’s okay,” Ms. Brook whispered. She flicked Mateo’s nose, causing him to flinch. “You’re more important than a coffee table. I’ll clean it up. Right now, let’s get you something to eat.”

***

Ms. Brook and Mateo were sitting at the dining table eating dinner when Maria came by. She had both her purse and a red and white canvas bag over her right shoulder. She did not see the mess Mateo created because Ms. Brook had covered up the evidence with a cloth–to make it look like she was painting. Mateo’s mental health issues were her problem at the moment, not Maria’s. She deserved to celebrate her pregnancy.

She stopped at the table and said, “Hi, Mateo.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Are you doing better?”

He took a bite from his chunk of warm ham. “A little,” he replied. He and Maria stared at one another for a long while, silent, and then he added, “I heard that the girls invited you out to dinner. Just remember, no drinking. We want to keep this little fella healthy.” He again patted her belly.

Chuckling, Maria said, “I won’t, baby.”

Mateo cringed at the word. Goosebumps popped up on his arms and legs. He slipped the bag off Maria’s shoulder and hid behind it.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she apologized. Maria was scared. Was Mateo really happy for her? No, no, he was. He just needed some time.

He removed the bag from his face. “My bad, Maria. I’m a grown man. I can get through this. Thank you for the bag.”

She pointed at it. “There’s something in there for you.”

Mateo reached inside. He pulled out the dad cap Maria bought. Nervous, he put it on.

Ms. Brook grinned. “Wow. That looks good on you, babe. You wear it so naturally.”

“I’ve got one, too,” Maria said. She dug out the mom cap in her purse and set it down on her own head.

“Oh, that’s adorable!” Ms. Brook said, clapping. “Wait! I need to get a picture! To celebrate the big day.” She released her cell phone from her pocket. She pointed the camera at Mateo and Maria. “Say ‘Baby’!”

“Baby!” Maria excitedly spoke.

Mateo remained silent. He looked like a ghost.

“Oh, come on, Mateo. Smile,” Ms. Brook begged.

How could Mateo smile? This was all his fault. How much did he hurt Maria the night it happened? He had a sickening feeling that he was very rough with her–that he forced her, all because he was drunk. He never meant to injure her. Why hadn’t she dumped him yet? Mateo would never forgive himself for his crime.

“I-I’m going to bed,” he whimpered. He took the cap off his head and set it down next to his plate of ham and green beans. With his overnight bag in hand, he jogged up the stairs of the house and ducked into his old bedroom.

Ms. Brook read her son’s mind. “Maria… How rough was he with you?” she asked.

“Um…” Maria quickly changed the subject by looking at her wristwatch. “Well, I have to get going. The girls are waiting.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Ms. Brook nodded understandingly. “Oh, okay.” She did not want to pressure Maria. It was supposed to be a happy day for her. However, the reaction was enough proof that Mateo did hurt her a little.

“Thank you, Ms. Brook,” Maria said with a feeble smile. She pecked the older woman’s cheek and left the house. She was silent the whole way out.

***

Ms. Brook hustled up the stairs to the second story. She opened the door to Mateo’s room, giggling at the sight of him fast asleep in his nostalgic, king-sized bed. His boots dangled off the end of it. His mother gently pulled them off. She set the boots under Mateo’s stool at the foot of the bed. She then took off his black ranger vest. Ms. Brook hung it up in his closet. She dragged a fluffy blanket down from the top shelf and tossed it over Mateo.

Ms. Brook kissed the top of his head. “Goodnight, sweet cakes. Everything is going to be okay. I give my word.” However, that was when she noticed something disturbing. Mateo sweated a little bit and shivered. He groaned when she put her hand to his forehead. “Oh my gosh! Mateo!” Ms. Brook removed her hand. “You have a fever!” How, though? Wait a minute… She knew why. The Ranger Union was working him too hard.

Ms. Brook snatched her phone out of her pocket. She called the neighborhood doctor, Dr. Marshal. Phone at her ear, she sat down on the bed with her son. “Dr. Marshal?” she fearfully asked. “It’s Abigail Brook. Please come over. Mateo has a fever.”

Dr. Marshal was over in a matter of ten minutes. He knew how much Mateo meant to Ms. Brook. A young, handsome man in his early thirties, he had short black hair and a black beard that covered his face. He wore a pair of brown pants with a light blue, plaid top and shiny shoes. He carried his medical briefcase in his hand. He plopped it on top of Mateo’s bed.

While he did the examination, Ms. Brook stood off to the side, chewing her nails. She knew Mateo was nervous. He used his magic to conjure a few vines around his bed.

Dr. Marshal checked his vital signs: his breathing, blood pressure, etc. and wrote some notes down on a clipboard. He listened to his heart and lungs with a stethoscope.

“Well?” Ms. Brook asked when he finished.

Dr. Marshal put his stethoscope back around his neck. He batted a few of Mateo’s vines away and faced her. “Abigail, he is exhausted. How much has he been working lately?”

“Almost every single day,” Ms. Brook answered. “This is the first weekend in three months that the Union’s given him off. Then he has to leave again for a new mission on Monday.”

“And he said ‘yes’?” Dr. Marshal asked.

“You don’t understand, sir. He loves his job,” Ms. Brook explained. “He never says ‘no.’”

In a stern voice, Dr. Marshal said, “Well, he needs to start doing so. Is it too late to cancel the mission, or for the Union to request another ranger?”

“I don’t know,” Ms. Brook admitted.

“Call them tomorrow and see,” Dr. Marshal ordered. He approached Mateo’s bedside and peered down at him. A few vines threatened to slap him, but the doctor pushed them away. He clutched Mateo’s shoulder and said, “He needs rest.”

***

Mateo dreamt about his first day as a Pinta Park Ranger. He was so excited to get started. He literally ran for the Ranger Union. Halfway to it, in the Maglin Woods, he stumbled across a ranger herself. She had auburn hair and a freckled face.

Excited, she hurried to the nineteen-year-old boy and asked, “Oh! Are you the new ranger–Michael, Matthew…?”

“Mateo,” he said.

The girl snapped her fingers. “Oh, right! Mateo. Hello there.” She gave him a quick bow. “I’m Krysta. The Union sent me to come get you.” She gestured at a small, wooden dock off to the left that had a boat tied to it. “Come on.” She grabbed his Ranger School tie and lugged him over to the dock. Krysta shoved him into the boat. The two young adults floated out to the enormous, crystal clear lake–Maglin Lake. The Ranger Union was at the end of it.

Maglin Lake was home to a colony of mermaids. While Mateo and Krysta enjoyed the boat ride, they leaped out of the water and splashed them. Each mermaid laughed friendlily and waved at the youths.

Krysta and Mateo waved back.

“So, are you excited?” Krysta asked the newcomer.

“Oh, I’m pumped! I’ve wanted to be a ranger my whole life!” Mateo answered. He pointed his hand at the lake. The mermaids and Krysta watched amazed as he lifted a spinning whirlpool out of it. He smiled at Krysta. “Watch this. This is something I learned when I graduated.”

The young man ordered his whirlpool to keep twirling. A bright light appeared in between his hands. Mateo aimed it at the whirlpool. The light collided with it. Instantly, the whirlpool shimmered with rainbows. Mateo used magic to pull it apart. Within seconds, the sky above him and Krysta glowed rainbow as a huge blanket settled over the lake.

The mermaids’ and Krysta’s jaws dropped.

“Wow,” Krysta mumbled. The Ranger School wasn’t kidding when they said Mateo was the most talented student on the whole campus.

He offered his hands to the rainbow blanket. He twirled in a circle, just for fun. He was ready, ready to start his first official mission as a Pinta Ranger. He wanted to take on a dragon. No! A centaur! Oh, that would be cool. Except, for his first mission, the Union gave him a very boring job.

Mateo had to deliver newspapers.

***

The happy memory replayed over and over in his head. Mateo smiled in his sleep. He pulled his covers closer to his body. No doubt about it… The dream was a sign, a sign that everything was going to be okay. Mateo would learn from his mistakes and become a better person.

Ms. Brook, who sat in a chair next to him, enjoyed seeing him happy. She set her book down on her lap and picked up his hand. Ms. Brook patted it a few times. She pressed her soft lips against his youthful skin. She remained smiling for a good while, but deep down, Ms. Brook was scared for her son. A mother knew when her children’s lives were about to get tough.

Mateo was going to suffer soon. Ms. Brook knew it. She just hoped that she would be there for him through the whole thing. Twenty-one was going to be a very difficult age for him.

She went downstairs to clean up her son’s mess. Ms. Brook tossed the cloth off the coffee table and grabbed a broom and dustpan from the hallway closet. She swept the glass pieces into the plastic pan. The strangest thing happened, though, while she worked. She broke down in tears.

Ms. Brook clenched her teeth and tilted her head back. The broom dropped from her hand. She fell to her knees next to the table and buried her face in her hands. “I don’t want him to suffer. Please, gods, I love him.” Her son’s young, handsome face filled her head. She thought about him, about Maria, her late husband, and her sister, whom she had not seen in years. “I am willing to die to protect him,” Ms. Brook told the gods.

She was. Ms. Brook would do anything to protect her son, even if it meant sacrificing herself for him. It was her duty as his mother.