Echo

shelves. Mom would have to wait for him, unfortunately.
    Scotty slept the deep sleep of youth, dreaming of the soapbox derby car Jose built for him when he turned ten. A well-known klutz with tools, Jose taught him how to use a hammer. He could still hear the two of them banging on the car while Tomas and Hiro mocked them, threatening to tear it apart. And banging and banging. The noise jerked him from his slumber. Annoyed and groggy he opened his eyes, realizing someone was banging on his bedroom door. Throwing back the blanket, he glanced over at Hiro’s bed; still empty. His alarm said three am.
    “Scotty, wake up.”
    More pounding; it sounded like Abby. Sleepily, he pulled open the door, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, grumbling. Abby stood there with a frayed sweater thrown over her pajamas. She was wearing her worn sneakers and held her ratty blue jacket in her hands, her face colorless and tear stained. Scotty grabbed her hands.
    “Abby, what’s wrong? Abby.” She looked beseechingly into his eyes, silently begging for help.
    “Hiro … he’s dead,” she whispered.
    “What?” Shaking Abby hard, his heart thudding, he screamed, “ Where’s mom?”
    “She’s at the hospital. They said she’s hurt. They haven’t even checked her in yet. She’s been there since last night. We have to get over there.”
    “What happened? What happened to Hiro? Where is he?”
    “It was an accident. I don’t know any more than that. Let’s go.” Grabbing a pair of jeans, Scotty slipped them on over his pajamas, pulling a shirt down over his top. Grabbing his smelly sneakers, he ran barefoot out the door behind Abby. Mama Diaz waited in the driveway, trembling. Her fingers danced wildly over her rosaries, uncombed hair streaming down her back, bedroom slippers still on her feet. Abby coaxed her into her old Ford, the agonizing drive to the hospital, a nightmare of desperate prayers and anguished promises to God from the back seat.
    Arriving at the hospital, they parked, maneuvering around the crowd congregating near the emergency room. The line snaked out the door. Lucky emergencies with appointments used the exclusive door. Scanning the crowd, they spotted Jose running toward them. He took his mama in his arms. She broke down completely, emotionally debilitated.
    “My baby boy, my Hiro,” she sobbed. “God, why did you rip out my heart?”
    “She shouldn’t have come.” Jose softly kissed the top of his grieving mama’s head. “There is nothing she can do. Hiro was killed instantly. A tractor trailer; it clipped their car and kept on going. They ran off the road into a tree, head on.” Glancing over at Abby, he evasively refused to meet her eyes. Kissing his mama again, he hesitantly took Abby’s hands in his.
    “Jose, where’s Mom?” Abby looked up into his eyes, hope slowly shredding. Jose shook his head, hot tears spilling over. Abby whimpered.
    “Jose, where is she?” Scotty’s voice crackled with knowing pain. Jose folded them both into his big arms. They understood what he couldn’t say.
    Shocked, dazed and in denial, they returned to the Ford. Jose handled the minutiae of paperwork while they waited, silently railing at God’s unfairness.
    Mama Diaz took care of breaking the news to Bonny and Emma. They squirmed incessantly, scared and not too young to wonder how the deaths would affect their lives. Jose called Tomas and broke the news to him. He came to the house as soon as possible, bringing his girlfriend Kelly and unnecessary tension with him. Tomas sat in the living room, conferring with his mother in whispers. Jose, Abby and Scotty sat at the kitchen table looking glumly at one other. From time to time, Jose answered the phone, pausing to ask Abby a question, updating Mama Diaz.
    Eventually, all the funeral details fell into place, quiet blanketing the house. Scotty sat in a fog, picking at a sandwich, feeding pieces to Barney. He absently noticed Bonny surreptitiously feeding Barney under the table. He made a note to cut down on Barney’s chow. He already looked like a giant white sausage ready to explode.
    Looking up, he noticed the whispering. Jose and Abby were in the corner, his arms around her, her tearful faced pressed into his shoulder as he whispered into her ear. Emma and Bonny sat curled up on the sofa, fearful eyes darting from one adult to another.
    Finally, everyone gathered around the table. Mama Diaz cleared her throat. She looked first at Jose, then Tomas,