The Son, The Sudarium Trilogy - Book Two by Leonard Foglia, David Richards Page B

why are you reacting like this? You are in a sacred place.”
    “I’m sorry. My son will not participate in your procession. No! No! Never!” She tore at the purple robe, stripping it from his body and thrust a wrinkled shirt at him. “Put this back on immediately.”
    The young man had never seen such virulence in his mother, normally so easy-going and pleasant. She had never once reprimanded him for anything. And even now, he had the impression her fury was not directed at him, but at the priest, the cross and the purple costume that lay crumpled on the floor. Tears streaked her face and her breathing was so heavy and uneven that he feared she might faint. He realized it was useless to argue.
    They walked home in silence. The procession proceeded without him, but although the rhythmic thud of the drums that accompanied the penitents penetrated the thick walls of the house, his mother acted as if she didn’t hear them. Neither of them ever mentioned the subject again.
    Years later, the young man found he could still remember the smallest details. After all he’d learned the past few days, they had, in fact, taken on a new life. He stared out the airplane window at the black nothingness and tried to imagine what had been going through his mother’s head that day, when she saw a rustic wooden cross being lowered on to his thin, adolescent shoulders.

2:22
     
    Little Jimmy rang the doorbell for a third time. His mother wasn’t home, which was unusual. Was she gone now, too? Everyone was leaving and no one was explaining anything. All he and his sister had been told was that their older brother was going on “a little vacation.” But there’d been no talk beforehand of a vacation. No goodbye party. No nothing. There was only that quick departure in the middle of the night. When he awoke the next morning, Little Jimmy actually wondered if he’d dreamed it all. Now this!
    Locked out of the house, Little Jimmy trudged the two blocks to the shop, where his father was dealing with a pair of tourists, who seemed bent on picking up every last piece of merchandise and asking the price. Little Jimmy plopped down on one of the leather chairs (for sale), took a notebook out of his schoolbag and listlessly went over his math lesson, until the tourists finally sauntered out of the shop without buying anything.
    “How was school today?” Jimmy asked.
    Little Jimmy shrugged an okay. “Mom’s not home.”
    Jimmy looked at his watch. “She must still be at the market.”
    Another reminder, Little Jimmy thought that his brother was gone, since he was the one who always went to the market for their mother. He sighed. “Can I have the key, Dad?”
    “Take mine.”
    Key in hand, the boy stopped at the shop entrance and turned back. “Can I ask you a question, Dad?”
    “Sure.”
    “Why did he leave?”
    “He didn’t leave. He’s just gone on a little trip. You know how he likes to travel.”
    “But why so quickly? In the middle of the night.”
    “You know him. Once he makes up his mind to do something…”
    “When’s he coming back?”
    “I don’t know for sure. Soon enough. When he decides he can’t go another day without seeing his younger brother.”
    Little Jimmy reflected on that. “He didn’t leave because of me, did he? I mean sometimes I say things about him, you know, that he’s a dreamer and he never knows where he is and he’s always late for meals. But I’m just kidding. He knows that, doesn’t he? I’m just making a joke.”
    “Yes, he knows that. Don’t worry. He’ll be back before you realize it.”
    But Little Jimmy was sure he was the reason his brother had gone. It was all his fault and no one could convince him otherwise.
    He turned the key in the lock and pushed open the heavy wooden door, which moaned its familiar welcome. Before he had a chance to shut it, a woman appeared in the doorway.
    “ Hablas inglés, no ?”
    “Yes,” Little Jimmy replied hesitantly.
    “I thought so. My