His hands trembled on the table. Her eyes were filled with tears that refused to fall.
“Hue,” I repeated, this time firmer. Why are you eating this?
She lowered her head.
“No… it’s nothing,” he whispered. I was just a little hungry.
I felt something inside me begin to break.
“Don’t lie to me!”
My voice echoed in the kitchen, louder than I intended.
Hue was startled.
The baby, who was sleeping in the next room, made a small sound, but fell silent again.
Breathed hondo.
“I send you money every month,” I said slowly. A lot of money. Mom is here to take care of you. There is food in the house. So why are you eating this?
Hue pursed his lips.
For a few seconds he said nothing.
Then, finally, a tear fell.
“Because…” his voice was barely audible. because that’s what they let me eat.
I felt the world stop.
“What…?”
Hue closed his eyes.
“Your mother says that after childbirth a woman should not eat too much. He says that if I eat good things, my milk will become “too strong” for the baby.
My mind went blank.
“So… she keeps the good food,” Hue continued in a trembling voice. He says it’s for you, because you work hard. And for her… because it is greater.
My throat closed.
“And you?”
Hue pointed to the bowl.
“Sometimes he leaves me the remains.
I looked again at the rice in the bowl.
The thorns.
The heads.
Suddenly I remembered something.
Every time I called home, my mother said the same thing:
“Your wife is doing great. Eat a lot. Get plenty of rest.”
I felt a cold run down my back.
“Since when…?” I asked with difficulty.
Hue hesitated.
“Since I left the hospital.
I felt something burning inside my chest.
One month.
A whole month had passed.
A month in which I thought my wife was being taken care of.
A month in which my mother received my money.
A month in which Hue ate… garbage.
I clenched my fists.
“Why didn’t you tell me anything?”
Hue looked up at me.
His eyes were filled with fear.
“Because,” he whispered, “… She is your mother.
Those words hit me harder than anything else.
Hue wasn’t afraid of going hungry.
He was afraid of destroying the relationship between a son and his mother.
I took a deep breath.
Then I got up.
“Where is she?”
Hue opened his eyes in concern.
“He must be at Mrs. Marta’s house… talking to the neighbors.
I took my jacket.
“Stay here,” I said.
“What are you going to do?”
I looked at her.
“Fix this.
Mrs. Marta’s house was only two doors down from ours.
When I arrived, I could hear laughter from the patio.
Several women were sitting around a table, drinking coffee.
My mother was among them.
He laughed.
As if nothing in the world was wrong.
When he saw me, his smile froze.
“Son?” Why are you here so early?
I didn’t answer.
I just looked at her.
“Come,” I said. We have to talk.
My tone was so serious that even the other women stopped talking.
My mother frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Now.
We walked back home in silence.
When we entered the kitchen, Hue stood up immediately.
He looked down at my mother.
My mother observed the scene… And then he saw the bowl on the table.
For a second, his face changed.
But he recovered quickly.
“Ah,” he said with a fake smile. That rice was for cats.
I felt anger rise through my chest.
“So… why was my wife eating it?”
My mother crossed her arms.
“Because she’s stubborn.” She always wants to eat things she shouldn’t after childbirth.
“Things I shouldn’t?”
I pointed to the bowl.
“This?”
Leave a Comment