Fruit of Thy Womb

The Sunday Scribblings prompt for the week: mantra.
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She rolled the cool bead across her thumb to the beat of her mantra.


Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee. 


“Ma’am, we’ve seen some strange activity on your card, and we just wanted to call to make sure you’re aware,” the caller said. There had been three cash advances of $1,5oo over the last three days. She closed down the card.


Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. 


She hadn’t been able to find him in the few places she knew to look. He wasn’t home or at the bar. His friends claimed they hadn’t seen him. She wandered the park with no real hope of running into him there.
Finally, she called the number tacked to the bulletin board in his room: his bookie.


“If you see him, tell him he’d best be stopping by here soon,” the man said.


Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.


It didn’t really matter. She suffered no delusions that she’d get back her money; she’d never gotten back any of her stuff he had pawned over the years.


She went back to the apartment and cleared out his few belongings. Clothes, a recliner (with help from the boy downstairs), toiletries, a box of books and DVDs all lay in a pile on the curbside. She paused briefly before throwing in a baby book and photo album.


There was nothing anyone would want to take. It would still be there if he cared to come for it.


Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.


It stayed there for a week. She passed it as she walked to and from her daily commitments.


She watched from the window on Friday as the garbage crew loaded it on the truck.


Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.


Monday, she took the bus to the morgue to identify his body. It had been found by a kid retrieving a home run ball during a sandlot game. One shot through the back of the head.


Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.


A mourner from the neighborhood walked up the aisle. He placed his hand on her shoulder as he passed.