Thursday, March 11, 2010

3/10-6

cold. the dew stains through her shirt causing the fabric to cling to skin. cold causing the hair on her harms to stand up. cold. she is feeling the rocks through the grass now. slowly her eyes fluter open. she wonders for a moment if it had been a dream. she wonders for a moment how she ended up out here instead of in their bed.
she is connected to something. there are heavy arms wrapped about her waist. she is pulled or cuddled close for warmth. he is wheezing, moaning and the dried blood about his face causes his nose to whistle. she pulls herself free. she stands. they are not far, few football fields away. she can see the top of the roof, she can see the chimney.
'let's go,' she says.
he opens his eyes and is startled. he tries to stand but loses balance.
'____", she thinks.
she will hold him. she will carry him. she decides.
he keeps his eyes closed.
all hard breath and sweat. all tight muscles clenched beneath the damp cloth.
'_____ together,' she says.
there is the sound of dogs barking. there are no cars. she has no watch to put the time. the only noise that is close to them is the sound of feet. two feet walking. one foot stepping and one foot dragging. beyond that, their breath then we must go further out to find more noise.
'why now?' she thought.
'why me?' she thought.
there were moments were she could have let him down. she could have dropped him into the ditch beside the road they were walking.
'it is not like i never had my opportunities,' she mutters her brown hair clinging to her sweaty brow. her clothes clinging to her skin. she is a mother, things will always be clinging to her, always leaning on her, always depending on her kindness for survival.
'there was ___, i should say, there is ___. he has been after me for awhile. maybe i should just do it. i mean what is this marriage now?' she says through clench teeth.
the moon does not rise or fall but loses it's importance as the star begins to appear. she begins to see the black of night lighten, the first hint of day erupting for the eastern soil.
'he is always at the coffee pot when i am there. he is always at the same lunch table or near the same tree. he keeps coming at me. what is that? i use to think the devil. i use to think this is the test, the temptation of a marriage. i shouldn't say use to. this is how i think. but now what? maybe he is a good man. maybe this is a life line to set me free. from this, from you. maybe. though you were a good man, well you are a good man. everyone has doubts. everyone has moments that test or push our character to it's limit. some fail. some fail but that, what does that mean? we've been in love, we've been sweet hearts, and we've trusted for so long. is it one mistake? is it an eye for an eye? is it the universe moving us apart so that i can actually find my true partner? what about the kids? we can't napalm their life. this life. this life is about their life now, as much as my freedom and joy.'
she can see the top floor. she can see the rocket curtains that decorate her children's room.
'everything is set in motion. everything is set up for this, for us. now what?' she bites her lip. his eyes are still closed, he is wheezing. he is leaning. he is drag footing but still she does not let go.
'it's about trust. it's about knowing i can whisper secrets to you and they won't get repeated. it's about mutual sacrifice. it's about sitting there on dead head nights and giggling over the television cuddled up. now what? i don't want our children to get sick, to put our heads together for a solution and think the idea you are giving me aren't just yours but yours and this new voice.'
the first floor is starting to rise from the bend on the road. she can see the windows all dark, save a corner, the living room where the television is on.
'i don't want to look like a fool. i don't want to say x and y are our family beliefs. i don't want to say to people i know, i work with, inlaws, anyone that our family is x and y that is who we represent. i don't want to trust that to you and find out it was a lie. find out you are running around town like a rogue with a whisper campaign that describes yourself as an independent agent. i have to trust you're a part of this thing. you're the husband and father that we are described as. trusted as...____ it's now that i am the fool. now i am some wounded sick thing. now i must be attended to. even if i move on. even if i go with ___ or never choose another man. people are going to walk on eggshells around me. some fragile thing that has been dealt a blow.'
they are on the porch.
'so with all things being equal. before all this i would not choose another man. before all this you were my soul mate. my one true love, father to my children hearer of my secrets and catcher of my tears. with this, i don't know. but the fact that i don't know means there is a chance, the fact that i don't know means you are still close enough to be considered. for my children. for that one chance. for that closeness, for that history i have to stay.'
she opens the door. there is a rush of heat. it feels good to be home. she sees her curled like a child on the coach, television light dancing over her eyelids, blanket pulled tight to her chin. she almost drops him. she almost vomits. steadies herself and helps him upstairs. she puts him in bed. she kisses his forehead.
there is a violent anger that swells but she white knuckles the door frame. but she takes a deep breath. it is not gone it is caged. she heads downstairs she has breakfast to make her kids will be home soon.

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