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THE GRAVITY OF RED / Chapter 4 / 6

Chapter 4 - THE ECHO OF THE SLAP

The silence in the kitchen was heavier than lead.

Only the quiet, rhythmic dripping of tomato sauce hitting the floorboards could be heard.

Drip. Drip.

The old woman pressed a trembling hand to her left cheek.

Beneath her wrinkled fingers, a bright, angry red handprint was already blooming.

Her mouth hung open, exposing the gold filling in her back molar.

She stared at the younger woman, her chest rising and falling in shallow, panicked jerks.

The mother took one slow step forward.

The rubber sole of her boot crushed a piece of shattered porcelain into white dust.

She raised her right hand again.

She didn't form a fist.

She extended her index finger, pointing it directly at the space between the old woman’s eyes.

Her fingernail hovered exactly two inches from the wrinkled bridge of the grandmother's nose.

The mother’s jaw was locked so tightly the tendon in her neck bulged against her skin.

"You starved my daughter in my house!"

The words did not come out as a scream.

They were spoken in a low, vibrating growl that rattled the glasses in the upper cabinets.

Behind the mother, the background blurred into a soft, unfocused wash of white and grey.

The two children were huddled together against the marble island.

The boy still had his arms locked around the girl.

His eyes were wide, tracking the blue fabric of his mother’s shirt.

He watched the rigid, unyielding line of her pointing finger.

The mother didn't blink.

Her brown eyes were completely devoid of warmth.

They were cold, hard, and entirely predatory.

The old woman tried to speak.

Her lips moved, parting slightly, but her vocal cords refused to push any air past her teeth.

She pressed her back harder against the refrigerator door.

She was trying to merge with the stainless steel, trying to escape the gravity of the mother’s stare.

The mother’s finger did not waver.

It remained suspended in the air, a physical barricade between the old woman and the children.

She breathed through her nose, her nostrils flaring slightly.

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She was measuring the exact weight of the betrayal.

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