Mama Stalks the Past by Nora Deloach

had finally gotten the Affair Zwigsettled. I was elated. He was flying into Hartsfield in Atlanta on Sunday; he expected to arrive there around noon.
    I glanced at my watch, eased my foot on the gas and drove away from my parents’ home. It was early Sunday morning, just before seven. There was no rain, but a few snow flurries did fall as I drove through the Savannah River Plant into Augusta. My heart pounded and my flesh tingled. I was going to have a few hours with Cliff, a few precious hours. Nothing was going to take that away from us, I thought. Little did I know that I’d be driving back to Otis at two-forty that
same
afternoon—that’s exactly what Cliff and I had to do.

    This is what went down. Around eleven-thirty, I pulled into my parking space in the apartment complex where I lived on South Hairston Parkway. Atlanta was damp, the clouds gray and very low. My apartment was dark and unwelcoming, just like the weather. I turned on lights, hoping to create the illusion that things were warm and bright. I set up a pot of fresh coffee and flipped the switch, and soon the aroma of hazelnut filled the small apartment. I sank into a chair. Thinking of what Cliff and I would do once his plane landed and he could get to my apartment, Isipped my coffee. Then I noticed the blinking answering machine. My heart sank. If those Zwigs had started again …
    I pressed the button for messages and was greeted with my mother’s anxious voice. “
Simone!… Mama! I don’t know if you’ve gotten home yet. No sooner than you had driven away, I got a call from Abe. Nat has been poisoned!”
    I slumped down in the chair and dialed Mama’s number. “What happened?”
    “Somebody poisoned the boy at the Melody Bar. That’s where the ambulance picked him up.”
    “Where?” I repeated.
    “The Melody Bar, near Monica!” Mama said.
    I felt like a child who was being forced into something that didn’t feel good. “Are you sure? Maybe he’s not really—”
    “Simone!” she snapped, in the special tone she uses when she knows I need to be pushed forward.
    “Okay, okay,” I said. “When did it happen?”
    Mama’s voice calmed slightly. “Last night,” she answered, “or early this morning. I’m not sure!”
    “What do you want me to do?” I asked, and cringed inwardly.
    As I expected, Mama didn’t hesitate. She loved investigating murders, and now she almosthad another one to poke around into. “I need you to come home right away,” she told me. “Today.”
    “Now? I just got home!”
    “I want to go to that Melody Bar and talk to some of the people who were there; I can’t go into a bar alone!”
    Disbelief swept through me. “No,” I said stubbornly. “I can’t come today. You’ll have to get Daddy to go with you. I can’t come. No!”
    “James has gone hunting, you know that.”
    I shook my head. “Then go by yourself,” I said stubbornly.
    “Simone, I don’t feel comfortable going in there atone. It’s not a nice place.”
    “Ask somebody else!”
    “There is nobody else!”
    “Then you’ll just have to wait until next weekend, Mama!”
    “Ask Cliff to drive you.”
    “Mama!” I yelled. “Cliff and I haven’t seen each other in
weeks
. We need these few hours!”
    “Simone, Hannah is dead, Nat may be dying, and—”
    “Okay,” I agreed, because experience had taught me this was an argument I couldn’t win. “I’ll talk to Cliff and call you back!” So much for a few precious hours with Cliff. I slammed the receiver down so hard I dropped the phone. After I’d rescued it, I sat on the couch, thumping a pillow with my fist. It’s one of the ways I maturely deal with the unfairness of life.

    Two hours and forty minutes later, I was looking back toward Atlanta as Cliff pulled my car onto the tree-lined I-20 and I headed east once more. He was in the driver’s seat, wearing a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, and a pair of brown suede Reebok walking shoes. When he glanced over at me