Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear—not absence of fear.
—Mark Twain, Pudd’nhead Wilson
Cat startles from her own darkness. She is covered in white stuff on her chest and her legs. What is it? It smells like chemicals. Joey is above her. His face is flush and tears well up.
To her right, Dupont is lying motionless, his face contorted into a strange mask. Even though he is out, his face is still twisted in hatred. The fire extinguisher lies next to Joey, also covered in white chemicals.
Joey whimpers, “Mom, I hurt him.”
Outside, thunder and lightning. Cat is stunned by her son’s bravery; she can find no words.
Tears come as she opens her arms.
He falls into them, his full body weight against her, face buried.
He is sobbing, low and quiet.
He shudders as the tears come harder and faster.
“I hurt him.” A tiny voice on her shoulder.
She holds him tighter than she ever has before. My God, her mind says over and over.
She starts to cry too. Joey continues to shudder and cry.
“It’s okay, baby” is all she can muster. “It’s okay now.”
Her voice is so low she can barely hear it herself.
Joey looks up; his face tilts to one side.
“Safe?” he whispers.
It is all she can bear not to cry more.
She holds him by his shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes.
She whispers back, “Yes, safe.”