His Mate, His Son, His Regret

The fryers hissed behind me, filling the air with the greasy perfume of Bob’s Burgers, when my phone buzzed in my apron pocket.

“Vivian? This is Marvel’s teacher. There’s been… an incident. You need to come to the school immediately.”

Her voice was clipped, urgent. My stomach knotted.

“What happened?” I asked, already yanking off my visor.

“It’s better if we talk in person.” Click.

I didn’t clock out. My apron hit the counter, and I shoved through the back door, ignoring my manager calling after me. The school sat right next to Bob’s, but the short walk felt like a mile. My sneakers slapped the pavement, breath sharp in my throat.

I pushed through the gate, scanning the yard  and froze.

Marvel stood in the middle of the playground, shoulders squared, lips curled back in a low growl at another boy. His small hands were clenched tight, and for a second, I could have sworn his eyes… didn’t look like his.

Marvel, my sweet, even-tempered boy, was standing over another kid on the ground, growling. Not shouting. Growling. Teeth bared. Eyes glowing maybe it was the light, maybe not.

“Marvel, what’s wrong? Did you push him?”

Before he could answer, the boy blurted, “Marvel is a monster! He doesn’t have a dad!”

No wonder Marvel was furious. “I told you to shut up!” He tried to lunge again, but I caught his wrist.

“Enough. Apologize.”

“No! He started it! He called me a monster!” His eyes dimmed, replaced by tears. Then he tore away from me and ran. Just like that, I felt like the worst mom in the world.

I mumbled an apology to the teacher and the boy  even though both were partly wrong  but there’s no point arguing with adults who only see half the story.

I have to deal with it later.

I found Marvel in my car. He had his head down, seemingly having gotten over his anger.

"Knock knock." I opened the car door and got in, trying to lower my voice to comfort him. "Baby, I'm sorry."

He sniffed, looked up and asked me, "For what?"

"For...everything." I shrugged to hide the sadness in my heart. Everything I still don’t know how to explain.

"No, you're not wrong." Marvel wiped his tears and snorted with a nasal sound, "Tom is the one who did something wrong. He always bullies me. I hate him."

"Does he beat you often?" I frowned. Tom, should be the boy just now.

"No, he can't beat me." Marvel said disdainfully, but his face showed sadness, "He always teases me and tells everyone that I don't have a father."

Seeing the sadness on Marvel's face, I suddenly panicked and began to doubt whether all the decisions I made were correct. Was this my fault? Did my choices doom him to feel like this? Like he was missing half of himself?

I mean, taking him away to this place far away from home, and even lying to him that his dad was dead. Doesn't he deserve to know the truth?

But what choice did I have?

I was only 18 at the time. I thought he could bring me happiness. We all drank after the prom, and things just happened naturally. But I didn't expect that I would get pregnant. I ran to tell him right away, but he refused to see me. That asshole, got a dick to do me, didn't have the dick to face me, and just sent me a breakup text message.

My dad looked down on me, saying that I had damaged the family's reputation and brought shame to my dead mother, and he even wanted to abort my child. As if erasing Marvel would undo my mistake. But Marvel was never a mistake.

But what choice did I have? Don't I deserve happiness?

Running away was the bravest thing I could do at that time.

I couldn't go to college and I was a single mother. I worked one job during the day and another at night to support my boy. I think I really tried my best, and I hope Marvel doesn't blame me.

I shook off the haze in my mind and focused on Marvel again. "So, you wanna talk about it?" I stroked his head, "I know he did wrong, but you can't hit him. This doesn't solve anything."

“I don’t know. I just felt angry. Billy called me a monster. I didn't know what was happening and the next minute he was lying on the ground.” Marvel clenched his fists, as if trying to remember what had just happened. He looked up at me: "Mommy, am I really a monster?"

"No, of course not. You are my dearest baby boy." I tried desperately to comfort him. As for those abnormal behaviors, well, let's talk about it later.

The phone suddenly rang, interrupting our warm moment. I had to adjust my mood to answer it.

Strange number, from the hospital in my hometown. I don't remember ever flirting with any doctor and leaving him my number.

What I heard on the phone shocked me. Turns out it was the nurse on duty at the hospital, and she informed me that my father Lion had broken his leg in a car accident and was unable to pay the social worker f*e, so I needed to handle it.

After 6 years, didn’t expect to see my dad again under such circumstances.Not after everything. Not after he told me I ruined his reputation.

Should I go back? But he hates me and doesn't want to meet Marvel. After all, he hasn't contacted me once in all these years, and I haven't changed my number, so I guess he hasn't changed his mind.

Besides, going back to my hometown, what would that mean, going back to everything that was before, and even... maybe meeting him, which is the last thing I want to happen.

Shit, God, don't tease me like this.

I can't made up my mind. And Marvel interrupted me. "Mommy, is Grandpa sick? We are going to take care of him, right, Mommy?"

I was stuck on this. "Do you want to meet him? I have to tell you, grandpa is not an easy person to get along with. Or I should say, very difficult to get along with."

"But he needs us, doesn't he?" Marvel blinked his big eyes, which were still covered with tears, and looked at me innocently. There it was again. That strange wisdom in his eyes, like he carried something older than his years.

What happened to my son? It's like he grew up in just one hour. But maybe it's just because he hasn't seen his grandfather's anger yet.

However, I have to admit, he maybe right. We should go.

"You're right. Let's go home, pack our bags, and go find Grandpa." I cheered myself up and prepared to start the car.

"Now?" Marvel's eyes lit up again, "Does this mean I don't have to go to school today?"

Oh, I almost forgot about that. "Yes." I pulled the handbrake, "but shouldn't you go and apologize before you leave?"

The light in his eyes disappeared again. "All right."

I thought that my best lesson to Marvel was to insist on being polite no matter what. Turns out, I was wrong. Those vulgar and disgusting jerks are not worthy of our courtesy.

Marvel had sincerely expressed his apology, but the boy still cursed him and called him a monster, saying that he had no father to accompany him and was therefore uneducated. This really angered me. The teacher did nothing, ignoring his rudeness, but insisted on punishing Marvel by making him write a confession and read it aloud.

That's it. My boy cannot be bullied like this, and will not accept such groundless accusations.

I slapped the boy with my best 'decency', rewarded the teacher with a cup of water poured over her head, and left in style with Marvel.

"You're so cool, Mommy." Marvel couldn't love me more. After all, I helped him quit the school he least wanted to go to.

"Come on. Let's go home. Back to Mommy's home." Although I acted very nonchalant, my heart was beating fast and I couldn't help thinking about it.

How I wish I had this courage when I was 18, maybe everything would be completely different.

Maybe.