Free Guardian by Julius Lester Page A

says.
    When she returns to the kitchen, she looks at Ansel. “She’s on her way.”
    Mother and son start to cry.
    â€œI don’t understand why you won’t come?” Ansel says to her.
    â€œI can’t.”
    â€œBut why?”
    â€œI just can’t. What’s important is you’re getting away from here. It’s too late for me, but it’s not too late for you.”
    They do not say anything else until Esther Davis drives up in her car.
    Maureen and Ansel hug. Then she and Esther hug.
    â€œPlease come with us,” Esther implores her. “You don’t have to do what you’re thinking about.”
    Maureen smiles, and Esther realizes it is the first genuine smile she has ever seen from Maureen.
    â€œIt’s all right, Esther. It’s all right. I’m not strong like you. I’m not very bright, either. And I’m certainly not pretty. All I ever had were big breasts. And now that I know Ansel is going to be all right, I feel at peace. I feel like I did one good thing with my life.”
    The two women hug again.
    Having put his big suitcase in the back of the car where Big Willie’s body had been, Ansel waits in the car.
    As the car starts to move away, he turns to look at his mother. She is looking at him. He waves. She waves back.
    He knows he will never see her again.

Epilogue
    When I came downstairs that Saturday morning, I was no longer a child. I had seen two people murdered in one evening, people who occupied places in my heart. I understood that life could be extraordinarily cruel, that life was intrinsically unfair, and that there was no justice.
    That morning I also understood Esther Davis’s words about how a person could be alive and yet dead. I had only to think of my father.
    When my mother asked me if I wanted to go to Massachusetts with Mama Esther, as I came to call her, I did not hesitate. Yes, I told her. Yes.
    When we drove away that day, I knew I would not see my mother again. When Mama Esther and I arrived at her house in Cambridge, she handed me an envelope, a letter from my mother.
    Dear Ansel,
    When you read this, I will no longer be on this earth. Please do not be angry with me. I am not a brave person. I never knew if I had a purpose in life until I understood that I had to get you out of Davis, get you to somewhere you would be safe, to somewhere you could be the kind of person I know you are, the kind of person for whom there is no place in Davis. The events of the past few days spurred me to find what little courage I had. Now that courage is all used up. I know Esther will take good care of you.
    Love,
Your Mother
    Mama Esther knew my mother was planning to take a lot of sleeping pills, lie down on the bed in my room, and go to sleep. When my father came home that evening, I was gone and his wife was dead.
    I have never blamed her for taking her life. It was only a matter of time before my father would have lost control of his anger. That evening in the livingroom when he drew back his arm, I saw murder in his eyes.
    I did not go back for my mother’s funeral.
    My father did not ever get in touch, though everybody in Davis knew where I was and who I was with. But I did not get in touch with him, either. Yes, he was my father, but that did not give him a claim on my love, on my respect. Perhaps I could have loved him if I had respected him. I do not know if his telling the truth that night would have saved Willie. I doubt it. But by telling the truth, he would have saved his wife, his son, and himself.
    I had finished Harvard, Harvard Law School, and was in my first year at a large firm in Boston when I received a letter from Zeph Davis the Third telling me that my father had died in a car accident. Zeph offered to buy the store from me since my father had not left a will. I knew the store was worth more than what Zeph offered, but I did not care.
    I never saw Willie again. Mama Esther told me that they buried Big