Saturday, August 27, 2005

A Short Story...

Since I can't work on my novel right now because of the laptop still being held hostage by the computer repair guy, I thought I'd post a short story I wrote a couple of years ago. It's a piece that I'm really proud of. I hope you enjoy it.

While He Was Gone

Elisabeth sat in the rocking chair hugging her knees close to her chest, rocking... rocking... rocking back and forth, wishing the rhythm could drown out her sobs. Her mother had rocked her to sleep in the very same chair when she was a baby, but it offered Elisabeth no comfort now. Her precious son softly moaned his protest to mommy's pain as he crawled around his playpen.
She could hear Daniel in the bedroom getting dressed and hurling things around in his anger. Heavy footsteps told her that he was coming back into the room, hopefully to leave the house for awhile. Painfully, she rose from the chair and stood in front of the playpen, between father and son. As a mother lion protects her cubs from harm, Elisabeth vowed that she would never allow anyone to hurt Jonathan again. Daniel glared at her with eyes of steel, gripping his 9 iron with both hands, ready to use it on her again. She stood there, terrified but determined. He finally turned his back on her and hurled the 9 iron against the wall. On his way out he slammed the door, ripping it off the hinges.
Elisabeth held her breath as he stormed to his Mustang. Elisabeth shuddered at the sound of the car peeling out of the driveway. The angry tires screamed their protest as he took his frustration on on them. Elisabeth exhaled for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, relieved that he would be gone for several hours, out with the guys or his girlfriend.
The time was now. Elisabeth knew what she had to do. She surveyed the living room as she walked through, seeing the evidence of his anger. Earlier that evening she had confronted him about a bruise she had found on Jonathan's soft, fragile tummy and he had once again lost control. His rage at the accusation had swept through the house like a tornado, leaving only destruction in its wake. Glasses were shattered on the floor. The crystal candy dish they had unwrapped on their wedding day was in a thousand pieces.
"Just like my life," Elisabeth said bitterly as she saw the remains of the once beautiful gift. "Just like my marriage." She gently picked Jonathan up and held him close, whispering in his tiny year, "I tolerated the pain he caused me. I tolerated the girlfriend. But, my angel, he will never hurt you again."
The tears began to come again, but Elisabeth caught sight of the 9 iron against the wall. The blood on the head of the club was enough to spring her into action. She knew that if he came home during her "project," he was sure to use that weapon again. Rubbing the back of her head where his last blow struck, Elisabeth fully believed that the next blow would be fatal. She picked up the 9 iron with shaking hands and slid it back into the golf bag next to the door. She carried Jonathan to her bedroom and sat him on the bed. She gave him an Oreo cookie, his favorite, and started to pack. Pulling out one tattered dress after another, she asked her son what she should take, trying to keep him in a good mood.
"How about this one, Johnny?" she asked, holding up a sundress that was several years old. "Mommy needs some new clothes, doesn't she?" She lookde at her sweet baby, now with chocolate cookie from head to toe. "Johnny, am I doing the right thing? You should have a daddy, but I can't let him hurt you the way he hurts me. What else can I do?"
Jonathan's fat fingers wiggled their approval of her choices, oblivious to the choice that had actually been made. She pulled out another suitcase and filled it with her personal things: jewelry, photo albums, and some books. She paused at a wedding picture on the wall of their bedroom and a memory washed over her, bringing more tears.
It was a whirlwind romance from the beginning. He was her high school sweetheart who pursued her with a relentless energy that she found exhausting, and she finally succumbed to his charms. Every day he had something different to win her heart. He brought her flowers, candy, took her anywhere she wanted to go, and sat out on a quilt with her at night to look at the stars. His proposal was a love song. He wrote and performed it for her at a romantic cafe on her 18th birthday. Of course she accepted him and wholeheartedly committed herself to the relationship. She gave up going to college so she could work and pay for his education, forgetting about her own dreams to sing on Broadway. She turned in a scholarship to NYU for an apron and diapers, but was willing and happy to do that for the man she loved.
The wedding day was beautiful. They both wore blinding white and there were roses everywhere. She was a 19-year-old child bride who was convinced that her story would end with "happily ever after." The problem with fairy tales is that everyone believes in them, but they never come true. Now, three years later, after fights, abuse, and a child that Daniel never wanted, Elisabeth felt her life slipping away.
The abuse started small with a slap in the face (for burning dinner or ironight his shirt the wrong way) but he quickly traded his hand for his fist, then his fist for a baseball bat. The golf clubs were his new weapon of choice and he swung the 9 iron as if his ball had gotten trapped in the sand. She wondered what he would use on her next time if she stayed.
Elisabeth was holding the wedding picture so tightly that her fingers turned white and the frame cracked. She dropped it on the floor in horror at the sound of a car door slamming. Frozen in fear, she waited a few minutes for the door to open. Five minutes passed. Ten minutes passed. She could hear the clock ticking louder than thunder. The rhythm was in sync with her heartbeat.
A sweet coo from her baby broke her trance enough to look out the window. The only car in the driveway was her 13-year-old Metro. It had to be the neighbors coming home. That was too close, though. Elisabeth knew that she needed to hurry. She had to be gone before he came home. She quickly carried Jonathan and all the suitcases into the living room, setting the bags by the door, next to Daniel's golf bag. She folded Jonathan's playpen and added it to the sad pile of a 22-year-old girl's worldly possessions.
Her tiny blue Metro had been a constant companion for the past 7 years. It had carried school books, prom dresses, friends, wedding gifts, a wedding gown, and now the fragments of her shattered marriage. She gently placed Jonathan in his car seat, avoiding the bruise on his tummy. It was getting late and she could see the sun peaking over the horizon. It was morning. A new day for a new beginning.
After making sure Jonathan was secured in the car, Elisabeth walked back up the stairs and into the house. There was one thing left to do. She slowly slid her engagement ring off her finger and dropped them into the shards of glass on the floor. The diamonds seemed to blend with the sharp crystal teardrops in the deep red carpet. She took a deep breath and walked out the door, only to be greeted by the headlights from a Mustang. She took one step back into the house and reached inside the golf bag. She found what she was looking for.
Elisabeth walked out of the house with determination, gripping the 9 iron.

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