Red Bullets in June

Chapter 35: Dream Painting

"Mommy, I brought you this."
I offer her a bag of frozen broccoli from the freezer. Her bloody and swollen cheeks puff out even more in a wide smile. She takes the bag of frozen vegetables and places it on her fresh wounds. "Thank you, baby."
My Daddy just ran out of our apartment. He hit my Mommy again. I always tell him to stop, but my small 7-year-old voice never protects my Mommy.
It makes me feel bad.
I want to protect her, but I can't.
She opens her arms for me to come inside. "Come here, baby." I snuggle into her chest and she holds me tight. She kisses my cheek. "I love you, Jaxon. Don't you ever forget how much Mommy loves you."
I nod.
I love my Mommy's hugs and I don't want to let go of her. But suddenly she disappears from around me and I fall onto her bed.
"Mommy...?"
Where did she go?
I run around like a crazy person and look for her everywhere. In the bathroom. In the closet. Under the bed. She hides in those places a lot. From my Daddy.
"Mommy?"
Where's my Mommy?
I walk into the kitchen and now I'm 10 years old.
What's happening? And where's my Mommy?
"Mommy?"
The lights shut off and the apartment goes black.
What's happening?
It feels really scary and I want my Mommy even more. I can't see anything. I start to cry.
"Mommy? I'm scared. Where are you? Mommy??"
I fall to the dirty kitchen floor and curl up into a ball. I cry even more. It's so black and scary and I want my Mommy.
"Mommy? Where are you? Mommy?"
And then a beautiful and bright light fills the space above my head. "Jaxon," My Mommy's voice enters the room.
I wipe my tears. "Mommy?" I lift my head and my Mommy is floating in the air like a ghost. She is dressed in a beautiful white gown and she is smiling at me.
"Mommy? What happened to you?"
"I'm here, Jaxon. I'll always be here."
"What? I don't understand."
In the blink of an eye, I grow into a 26 year old. I'm dressed in my full gang attire and I instantly tear away the blood red hospital mask from my face. "Mom! You're here!"
With a flash of white, every last atom of darkness in the kitchen is expelled by her emanating rays of light. She's holding something, but I can't make out what because the brightness of her appearance is burning my very corneas.
"Accept him," She tells me. "He's a part of me and a part of you."
"Who? Mom? What are you talking about?"
"Accept him, Jaxon. Please."
"Accept who? What are you talking about? I can't even see you. It burns."
"Accept him."
"Mom, I don't understand. Who am I supposed to accept?"
She vanishes into the air, taking the ethereal light with her, but her voice remains in a fading echo. "Accept him, Jaxon... Accept him..."
"Mom! Don't leave me!" I plummet to my knees. "Please! Come back! Who am I supposed to accept?? I don't understand! Mom! Please!" And then my muffled sobs are my only reply.

Jaxon wakes in a bout of confused tears. It's 2:00 AM, Friday, September 21, 2018.
"Mom..." He sobs. "I need you..."
He wipes the tears from his cheeks. "I wish Charlotte was here... Why did you have to leave me, Charlotte...?"

Taking a step back, I admire my finished painting that I've been working on for months. It's completely dry now and ready to mail. My hands cradle my baby bump. "Would you look at that, little one? My painting is finally finished. Hopefully, your Daddy likes it."
I give the painting an optimistic kiss before I wrap it in beige packaging paper. I then kiss the 14 week ultrasound picture of our beautiful, little angel and slip it inside a white card with a single light pink cherry blossom on the front. Placing the card in a white envelope with a matching light pink cherry blossom on the back, I tape it to the top of the package and sigh. "Here it goes. Please Jaxon, come be a family with us."

On Saturday, September 22, 2018, Trey raises a tentative fist to knock on Jaxon's bedroom door. Taking a deep breath, he taps on it lightly with his knuckles.
"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE??"
"You have a package."
"What??"
"It's from Charlotte."
The door flies open in seconds. "Are you messing with me?"
"No." Trey offers him the beige, square package and Jaxon takes it immediately. He closes his bedroom door and rips it open.
Inside is a painting. Jaxon plummets to his knees in seconds.
It's an exact replica of his recent dream. Charlotte's delicate, ethereal strokes depict Jaxon at 26 years old, standing in the dingy kitchen of his childhood while the surrounding darkness creeps up behind him. He's dressed in his full gang attire, but his blood red hospital mask is pulled down around his neck to reveal the wonderment in his face. He's reaching up toward radiant beams of light that eradicate the darkness and inside that light is a celestially beautiful woman dressed in white, with long ebony hair that cascades down her back and vibrant yet warm ebony eyes.
It's his mother.
She's offering something to Jaxon. And he can finally make out what it is.
It's a baby.
A baby boy with thick ebony locks of hair and wide ebony orbs. Just like hers.
And just like Jaxon's.
At the very bottom of the painting in the right corner, Charlotte Evansen is inscribed in white ink.
Jaxon gapes at the painting with wide eyes, breathing in every minuscule detail for a long, long time.
Setting the painting down with cautious tenderness, he searches through the crumbled packaging paper to find a white envelope with a single light pink cherry blossom on the back. Opening it, he slips out the card inside and gasps in astonishment as an ultrasound picture of a tiny, little life form flutters to the floor. He stoops to pick it up and stares at it for ions of time.
He then turns his attention to the inside of the card and soaks in the words like a water-deprived, desert traveler.

My dearest Jaxon,
I painted this for you. Your beautiful mother visited me in my dreams and this painting portrays what she showed me. I know she wants more than anything to offer you the angel that is our son. He's a part of her and a part of you.
I've felt her watching over me and our son. I know she loves you and she watches over you too. Please Jaxon, accept our beautiful angel and come live with us. Come raise our son with me.
I love you. I love our son. I want more than anything to share that love with you and to be a family together. I know you'll make a wonderful father. Your mother's goodness has always shone through you. You're a good person, Jaxon. I know you are.
Please baby, accept him. Accept our son. Eunhye's angel. Our angel.
Come after us. I've been wanting you to since I left.
I'll be waiting for you.
I love you so much. ❤️
Charlotte and Our Angel, Gabriel

Jaxon wipes a tear from his eye while he sits in stunned silence. "It's just like my dream," He chokes out.
Getting a hold of himself quickly, he springs to his feet with a sense of defining purpose and bursts out of his room.
"Khleo??" Picking up his pace, he begins sprinting down the labyrinth of hallways. "KHLEO??"
Emerging from the west wall of the mansion, Jaxon skids to a halt before colliding with Trey. "Where's Khleo?"
"Why? What's wrong?"
"I'm leaving the gang."
Trey is completely and utterly perplexed. "What??"
"I'm going after Charlotte. I can't be your leader anymore. Tell Khleo I've appointed him to take my place."
"Boss? What are you talking about?"
"I'm leaving. Goodbye Trey."
Jaxon takes off toward the stairs as Trey gapes after him in astonishment. He races outside, into the garage and hops onto his red Ducati. Within seconds, he's flying down the streets toward Queens.
When he reaches Karla's apartment complex, he parks and bounds inside. Taking the stairs 4 at a time, he's on the 4th floor in seconds. He knocks on door 413 and waits.
Nothing.
He knocks again. "Charlotte? Are you home?"
Still nothing.
"Charlotte?"
He tries the knob and it's open. He steps inside.
"No..." He begins trembling with a horrid sense of dread.
Karla is gagged and bound to a kitchen chair with rope. Charlotte is no where to be seen.