As the tenth graders trudged into their science classroom, they saw the teacher lower the screen, turn on the projector, open YouTube, start a video, and then pause until it was time to start. The class session was about animals giving birth in the wild.
She talked about lions in Africa, elephants in India, and shingleback lizards in Australia. Then she introduced the video, explaining that after giving birth to her calf, a mother humpback whale gives the newborn a gentle nudge to move it towards the surface because it has to breathe within fifteen seconds or it will drown. Then the teacher asked the class a question:
Can you think of any ways human mothers help their babies survive?
Rather than brainstorming like she had hoped, the students began grousing. My mother would never help me if I was dying, one girl sneered. Neither would mine, one of the boys replied. In fact, she’s more likely to drown me. The majority of students voiced their agreement, laughing and jeering.
Then a shy kid in the back of the room raised his hand. Yes, Jamaal?
When I was five, I was in the basement with my dad. He was fixing the living room lamp because it needed a new cord and plug, and he was showing me all about it. My mom was also in the basement, doing laundry when the washing machine overflowed and water covered the floor. My dad jumped onto the workbench so he wouldn’t be electrocuted, but I was too little and couldn’t climb up. Mom ran over, picked me up out of the water, and sat me on the workbench. But she didn’t make it. I miss my mom. If she was the whale in that video and I was the baby, I know she would push me to the surface. And I bet most of y’all’s mothers would do the same.
This story is included in my Flash Fiction Collection titled Twist of Fate published in 2026.
Paul Linzey 