Always

With the little boy gone, there’s nothing to live for.

I can’t think of anything to do except sit at the kitchen table, drinking bad milk from the carton. The taste doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Only Jack. My baby Jack…

It started so long ago I can barely remember. A basket on the doorstep, a note in a tiny hand, a sweet dear coo from within the folds of a blue blanket.

The blanket lies with me, always, always, always. Keeps me safe from the monsters, just like it kept him safe. Me and the blanket were all that stood between him and the world.

Maybe it was the same for him and me.

I’m not that educated of a woman…married too young, divorced too soon, grew up too fast. All of that was made up for with Jack. My Jack.

Everyone who met him couldn’t help but leave with a smile. He was bright; not even traditionally, just glowing like a little happy light bulb, was the words I used sometimes, not having much of a fancy vocabulary. Kept me going, that boy did, always, always, always.

They didn’t have to take him away, I kept good care of him! Better than any aunt he never met could, ever will, neither! He didn’t want to go…I’m sure of it…

The carton’s empty, better throw it away. Too bad that the trash can’s overflowing, haven’t emptied it in weeks, what’s the point? None, forever, always, always.

The last night was the worst. I knew, he knew. The blanket kept us together, huddled up all that night, not wanting to let go. Little prince in a pauper setting, just like that book I was supposed to read all those years ago but dropped out before getting the chance. He could’ve read it and explained it all to me, patient like he always was.

I’m a hard old woman, not old so much but ornery as anything. Jack softened that a lot, everyone says so, even that old witch of a social worker who’s known me since we were babes in arms.

Then why couldn’t I keep him?

Goodbye, Jackboy, goodbye.

Always, always, always.