Copyright © 2021 to the author
**
Luke stared at his mother, eyes wide.
"Oh my God," he said, sinking onto a chair. "Is she okay? What happened?"
Shaken by the attack on her youngest child, Mrs. Tang did not answer. Instead, she wiped at her face, and Luke ran to the bathroom to fetch a box of tissues for her. He placed them in front of his mother. She absently plucked one from the box and dabbed at her eyes. She took a deep breath.
"Mary -- Mary was walking to the restaurant from her school, like she always does," Mrs. Tang said, her voice quavering. "She was by that vacant lot when some hoods pulled up in a car. She said they yelled some things at her, but she tried to ignore them. Then they got out of the car and she ran, but they caught up with her."
Her voice broke and she reached for another tissue to soak up the fresh tears that filled her eyes.
"What'd they do?" Luke asked hesitantly.
"They surrounded her and pushed her around and called her names. One shoved her so hard that she fell and hit her head."
"Is she all right?"
"She's at the hospital now, with your father. She has a bump on her head, and she must have hit her arm on the sidewalk too. She had a bad scrape, and the doctor said he thought her wrist was broken."
Luke winced in sympathy.
"When did all this happen?"
"A few hours ago," she said, checking her watch.
"How'd you find out about it?"
"After she came to, she picked herself up and walked the rest of the way to the restaurant."
"My God."
"Don't take the Lord's name in vain," his mother said automatically, her thoughts on her daughter. She stood and gave herself a little shake. "I have to go get our insurance information. I'll be back later."
"Will Mary be in the hospital all night?"
"They don't know yet. The doctors said they had to do some kind of a scan to see if her brain was injured."
She looked ready to cry at the thought.
"Can I come to the hospital with you?"
His mother frowned, then shook her head.
"No. Mark's already there, with your father. I don't see what good it would do to have you there, too."
"Do you want me to call anybody?"
His mother considered that idea, then shook her head again.
"I don't want to call anyone until we know about the brain scan."
"What about her school?"
"Why would we call the school now? It's closed. That's a stupid idea."
She left Luke at the table and walked upstairs to her office, trying to remember where she had put the family's medical information. By the time she reached the little room, she had forgotten about her oldest child.
In the brightly-lit kitchen, Luke stared at the doorway through which his mother had just passed, not seeing it at all. So his presence wouldn't do any good and his ideas were stupid? He felt angry and resentful at his mother's attitude. Abruptly, his emotions melted into sorrow. She was right. His sister didn't need him there. Nobody needed him. He never did anyone any good.
With a heavy heart, he trudged up the stairs. He met his mother on the landing.
"I'll be back later," she later, passing him without looking at his face. "Do your homework and go to bed."
"Okay," he said to her departing back. "Tell Mary I hope she's all right."
But his mother had already gone.
**
The next morning, when Luke went downstairs, he found the kitchen empty. All the bedroom doors except Mary's remained shut, so he assumed his sister had stayed at the hospital overnight. He prepared a bowl of cornflakes, poured a glass of orange juice and sat at the table to eat alone.
He had almost finished when his brother appeared. Mark's hair stuck straight up and his eyes looked bloodshot. He went straight to the cereal and milk and fixed a bowl for himself. Luke let him eat a few bites in peace before speaking.
"So what happened to Mary?"
"Some guys jumped her and roughed her up."
"Bastards!"
"Tell me about it. She hit her head on the sidewalk and got a concussion. Her wrist was broken, too, but the doctors said that probably happened when she put an arm out to break her fall. So the guys didn't do that deliberately."
"How noble of them. Does anyone know who they were?"
Mark shook his head.
"Mary said she had never seen them before. She thought they looked like high school kids, big guys, jocks."
"Is she okay?"
Mark shrugged.
"She's really upset. Nothing like this has ever happened to her before."
"We've all gotten called names before."
"Well, yeah, but nobody's ever pushed her around like that, and she said she's never been called names like that. I guess girls don't do that."
"Names like what?"
"She said the nicest thing they called her was a fucking chink bitch."
Luke sat back in his chair and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
"No wonder she's shaken up. Mary's always gotten along with everybody."
"Yeah. Sunday school doesn't exactly prepare kids for stuff like this."
"So when's she supposed to get out of the hospital?"
"Some time today. They kept her there for observation or something," Mark said, looking at the table and digging back into his cornflakes.
Luke took the hint and left Mark alone, putting away the milk and cereal before trotting upstairs for a shower.
As he waited for his brother to get ready, Luke flipped through his story one last time. He didn't hear his mother's step in the hallway before she poked her head into his room.
"We're not opening today. Your father and I will be at the hospital. I just called the doctor, and he said Mary can come home this afternoon."
She gave the sheaf of papers in her son's hand a sudden sharp look. "What's that?"
Luke gazed at the story in his hand as if he had never seen it before.
"This?" he asked, trying to buy some time.
"Yes," she said, her voice acerbic. She took a step into the room. "That."
Luke looked at his mother and the papers.
"Uh, nothing much. Just something for, uh, school."
She extended one hand.
"Give it to me."
Luke directed his gaze at the floor in front of his mother's feet.
"It's the story I told you about yesterday."
"Let me see it."
Luke obeyed. His mother scanned the first page and flipped through the rest of it.
