ROOMS

David lay wide awake in his small, crumpled room. His bed felt too soft and his pillow too small. Unable to find a comfortable spot, he tossed and turned the whole night. The lamp on his bedside table shed a dim light onto the walls and shelves filled with his books and toys.

“One, two, three. four” He counted silently, his eyes moving from books to toys. Still the sleep wouldn’t come.

It had been two weeks since he hadn't seen his mom. The world he lived in changed the evening she didn’t come home from work. David kept on returning to the moment he was told no one knew where his mom was.

How is it possible? He protested as his thoughts drifted back to her. Why would she not let us know where she was?

David had no answers, but the room-and his pillow-still carried his mother’s scent. He felt safe there.

“She will come back soon or late and then I will ask why she decided to go away from me and granny.”

His small hands reached for his pillow and he hugged it the way he would hug his mom before drifting into sleep.

Deep in his slumber, David heard the phone ringing and his granny’s hurried footsteps. Then her voice-worried, scared.

“Yes…you found her?”

David sat up, his heart racing. MOM?

“Where is she?”

He jumped out of the bed and ran to his grandma. She was wiping tears off her pale face.

“Which hospital? we will be there. Thank you so much.”

David looked at his grandma. She hung up the phone and her hand was shaking. Tears wouldn’t stop rolling down her cheeks.

“They found mommy, David.” She finally said.

“They did? Let’s go Granny, let's go to mom!”

***

In the white hallway of the hospital, David sat on a cold metal bench, staring at the clock on the wall across from him. It was 4:15 a.m. Minutes dragged by.

David’s eyes closed, and he drifted into sleep. Awakened by a sudden growl in his stomach, he glanced at the clock—5:00 a.m. A long lazy yawn escaped him, and the smell of sanitizer twisted his face into a grimace. He sighed.

No one told him anything. When was he going to see his mom? He got up and walked up and down the hallway.

Around him—white walls, various posters covered in signs and text he didn’t understand. Doctors and nurses walked by as if he was invisible.

His grandma had gone into one of the rooms for so long. In his head, thoughts and worries mixed into a bitter fear. What if his mother was sick.

He swallowed, forcing the tears back. He wasn't going to cry because it would upset his mom.

Finally, the door opened, and his grandma walked out. The moment David’s eyes met hers, she smiled—but that smile scared him. He walked up to her. His granny’s eyes were red, as if she had cried the entire hour she’d been in that room.

“Where is Mom, Granny?” David tugged at her skirt. “Is she okay?”

“She is very tired, honey.” Her voice sounded forced, as if a knot were stuck in her throat.

“Can I see her?”

“Not right now, sweetheart.”

His grandma never looked this upset. David thought her wrinkles got even deeper especially when she tried to smile. He stepped back, ready to ask a question, spinning in his head all the time.

“Is she dead?” he whispered. “Why can’t I see her right now?”

“No, sweetie. She isn’t dead. Don’t say that, please.” She leaned down and gently caressed his cheeks.

David felt her warm hands on his face, and tears rolled down before he could stop them.

“When will I get to see her?”

“Very soon, David… I promise.” She wiped his tears. “Just be patient, sweetheart. Your mom needs time.”

“I will wait, Granny. I will be good.”

                                                                                      ***

Three weeks after his mom was found, David still wasn’t allowed to see her. He noticed the pitiful looks and whispers from relatives and neighbors whenever they saw him walking to school. Something very bad had happened to his mom.

But why wouldn’t Mom want to see him?

Did she forget him?

didn’t she love him anymore?

The questions spun in his head, making it impossible for him to concentrate on anything else.

On Sunday mornings, David and his grandma always visited Sarah at the hospital.

“I’m tired of sitting in that dumb hallway. When will you let me see my mom, Grandma?”

“A couple more weeks, honey, and you will see her.”

“You’ve been saying that for three weeks now. This isn’t fair.”

“You promised to be patient.”

David felt like he would explode. His ears and cheeks burned, and he wasn’t able to be good anymore.

“I have been patient. Why do you get to see her and I don’t? She doesn’t love me anymore, right?”

“Don’t you ever think that, baby. She loves you more than anything.”

“I will see her today. Otherwise, I will run away from home.”

As soon as he said it, he saw his grandma’s eyes widen.

Just the effect he wanted.

She’s scared. She’ll give in.

“All right, young man,” she said after a moment. “You are free to go. But remember—it’s winter, and it’s cold. So wear warm clothes.”

David’s voice dropped. “I wish I got sick. Maybe then Mom would remember me.”

A thought suddenly struck him. A good one.

Grandma always left for a few minutes to talk to the nurses and doctors. He could sneak in and see Mom. She wouldn’t even know.

With that in mind, David sat down in the hospital hallway—on the same cold metal bench—and waited for the right moment.

David didn’t have to wait long. Grandma walked out of Sarah’s room, looked at him, and smiled.

“She is feeling better today, David. I will soon let you see her.”

David smiled back and gave her a nod. As soon as Grandma disappeared down the hallway, he stood up and walked toward his mom’s door. Before going in, David took a deep breath. His hand shook as it reached for the door handle, and he pushed it open.

He stepped inside slowly, carefully, as if afraid to make a sound. The tiles beneath his feet were white, just like the walls around him. Big windows let in a lot of light, and the room seemed bright, warm—and very strange. The smell of medicine and sanitizer was stronger here. His nostrils burned as he breathed it in.

David looked around. Behind the curtain, he could see the outline of a bed and someone lying on it.

Mom…

His knees felt weak. He forced himself to keep walking. The room seemed to shrink as he reached the curtain and pulled it aside.

A silent scream tore through him.

A woman lay there. Her face looked familiar, but the bruises and cuts made her impossible to recognize.

She couldn’t be his mom. His mom never looked like that.

The thought spun in his head. Then he noticed her hair—long, brown, beautiful. Just like his mother’s.

He reached out and touched it. The softness was familiar. Dear.

“Mom… that’s you,” he whispered.

His eyes moved from her face to her hair, then to her hands. Half of her left hand was wrapped in a thick bandage. Bruises and wounds covered her face, her neck, her arms. Her face was swollen. Her eyes were closed. She moaned softly in her sleep.

“I’m here, Mom,” he whispered again. “I love you. I was waiting for you.”

His throat ached from holding back his tears.

“David, what are you doing here?”

His grandma’s terrified voice made his body jolt. He froze, as if glued to the white tiles beneath his feet.

“What happened to my mom, Granny?” he stammered. His fists clenched as the thought of why crept into his mind.

“David, honey, you should never have seen her like this.” Grandma grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door.

“Tell me. What happened to Mom?”

“Someone hurt her.”

“Someone? Who? Why?” Tears rolled down his cheeks. He wiped them away angrily.

“I don’t know, darling. But she will be okay soon.”

“My mom will be okay?” Tears choked him. “You promise?”

“Yes, baby. She will.” Grandma hugged him tightly. He felt her body shaking as she cried in silence. “Be strong for your mother, David.”

“I will be strong, Granny,” he whispered. “I won’t cry. Mom shouldn’t know we cried.”