Martine - Part 5

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In case you missed the first part of Martine, click here to catch up.

For the first time since that morning, mother and son were all alone, and a nervous silence descended over them. It was broken by Alain, nervously plunking keys, experimenting with a melody.

"What is that you are playing?" Martine asked.

 

"A little something I've been composing," he replied. "You didn't answer my question earlier."

"Why did I let you go?" Martine sighed. "Where do I begin? Basically, I was young and I would not have been able to give you the life you deserved. You deserved a mother and a father, not to wrry if you would eat that day, to have a roof over your head, warm clothes in the winter and opportunities I could not give you. Alain, Your life would have been so hard if I kept you."

"But I would have been with you," he whispered. He stopped playing and turned fully to Martine, "Do you know how hard it was to be the odd one out? Not being black, not being white, then when I go home, my parents not knowing how to console me. I wanted, I needed to see someone who looked like me. I wanted you."

Martine got up, walked over to Alain and embraced him. She felt the tension in her son's body unravel and melt away. "I thought about you every day of your life. There were times, I wanted to undo it all and take you back..."

"Then why didn't you?" Alain interrupted.

"Because I knew I was being selfish. I knew I could not give you what the Bouviers could give you. It would have been mean to give the Bouviers a beautiful boy and then rip him away from them," Martine responded. Were the Bouviers bad to you, Alain? Did they treat you badly? Would it have been fair to take you away from them when they have been so kind to you?"

Alain shook his head, "But I needed you," he whispered, "I need you." He pulled away from Martine, tears running down his face. "I needed my mother." Frustration was written across his face.

Abruptly, he stood up and started to pace around the living room. Martine sank down onto the piano bench, following Alain with her eyes. "Maybe I should not have come," he said at last stopping in his tracks. Then he walked to the living room entrance, stopping when he got to it.

With his back to his mother he asked, "If you kept me, what would you have called me?"

"It doesn't matter now. You are Alain and we can't undo what happened eighteen years ago," Martine replied.

Alain's shoulders slumped and then he was gone. Martine listened as the front door opened and closed.

Thanks for reading part five of Martine, I hope you enjoyed this part. Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think of the story so far. Click here  for part six of Martine.