http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2285029/Hero-mother-pushed-husband-42-years-safety-struck-killed-drunken-driver.html
It was a brown and translucent all at the same time. It was breakfast stained glass. It was neglected pancakes. Cody pushed down on them with his fork, evaluating the quantity of his meal. I had three pancakes. I ate half of two and ¾ of the third pancake. How many pancakes did I eat?
“Are you really already that full?”
Cody looked took his attention away from his personal math word problem. He did not even realize that his mother had left the table and was now distantly at the sink. He found it odd that her voice sounded the same from significant distances, that she, despite facing the backsplash of the kitchen, knew that he was loitering at the table.
“Yeah, I guess. I mean no rush…its Saturday.” He stared blankly down at his bare feet through the glass of the table. It was time to cut his toenails. He wished that he did not already have hair on his big toe.
“Your Brother will be back from band practice soon. Can you guys tag team the backyard until your Dad and I get back from our walk?”
“You say ‘band practice’ like its cool. Its MARCHING BAND!”
“Marching band is cool.” She emphasized the word cool like she even had to convince herself. Cody gave up on his breakfast and stood up to scrap the remains into the trash.
“What do you mean tag team the yard?”
“Like one of you rakes while the other one bags. Like, I said, your Dad and I just have to go a quick walk. We will be back to help with the weeds and stuff after. You are not going over to Mike’s until 3 or so anyway.”
“You don’t HAVE TO go on a walk.” Cody was exasperated by routine, probably why he disliked school. Every Saturday morning, if both his parents were in town and around, they walked, six to twelve blocks, once, sometimes twice. If they had screamed themselves to sleep the night before, they still walked. If Dad came home at 4 am Saturday morning, she woke him up after breakfast for a walk. If it was hailing, they walked. If it was snowing, they walked. If it was raining down frogs, they walked.
She looked up from wiping the fake, more economical formica “marble” counter top. “Yes, Cody, we do.”
***
Dean had been awake for hours, unable to move despite his incredible thirst. He had been listening to his wife and teenage son in the kitchen but was unable to decipher any words. Even the muffled tones were causing him a dull anxiety. The pillow was like warm cement, encircling his throbbing head and asking it to say there forever. He tried hard to remember what time he fell asleep. She had kept him up. He knew they were fighting again, probably about his drinking again, about not going to enough of the boys’ high school events. High School. He had hated high school. Yes that was it. They fought about how he hated high school and how could he ever be expected to go back to place he hated so much. Fuck was that it? Really? Dean you fucking pussy. Oh boo hoo no one liked you in high school except your wife…get over it, your 51 years old! Dean looked around the room, hoping that he would not have to go far for a bottle of ibuprofen. He pushed the covers down with his feet to reveal a glass of water perched atop the dresser, a mere few feet away. Step one, sit up. Step two, stand up. Step three, move away from the bed. The carpet, though now a far cry from the comforting cream color it once was, was still soft upon his dry heels.
He was halfway through step three when he stopped and saw himself in the full length mirror across from the closet. His boxers were discombobulated, his stomach was bloated and his beard wanted maintenance. He started over to it for a closer inspection at the damage he would have to remedy, when the door creaked open and she poked her head in.
“You almost ready?”
“What time is it?”
“Almost 11.”
“Okay.” He said. She lingered a few moments before closing the door more forcefully than usual.
She hates me now. More than ever. I know it. I love her.
***
Lance walked through the door at half past 11 and dropped his trumpet case on the pile of shoes at the front door. He then proceeded to take his shoes off and throw them on top of his trumpet case. In the fevered rush to disrobe his feet, his socks were left half on giving his feet the illusion that they were bigger than they actually were. He rushed into the kitchen, his socks becoming a liability combined with his speed and the tile floor. He stumbled slightly as he caught the side of the counter of the island. He saw his brother in the living room playing on his Dad’s iPad.
“Did dad say it was okay to use that? I thought you were not allowed to use the internet for a week!”
“Who cares?” Cody replied snidely. “They are out on their stupid walk and I need to check my email. Mom forgets that like, we use computers in high school now, not like, macrofishes or whatever that bullshit was.”
“What was for breakfast?” Lance asked sheepishly. They were both in high school now. Cody would only talk to him when no one was looking because he was a freshman and Cody was a Junior. Though he enjoyed that he got to talk to his brother at home, Lance still avoided prolonging conversations that got his older brother upset.
“Pancakes. Hey we have to start raking the leaves or something soon.”
“Oh man! Really? I love Mom’s pancakes. Dammit! Stupid band practice.”
“You know if you were in a real band you would not have to get up at 7 am on a Saturday, and if you were going to get up at 7 am on a Saturday it should be because you were, like, up all night Friday getting wasted and getting with band sluts.”
“Shut up Cody! Marching band is way harder than being in garage band or whatever musical atrocity Mike thinks he is a part of!”
Cody looked up from the iPad. “Whatever, you’re hopeless. Let’s just go move some leaves around so it at least looks like we are doing something.
***
The streets and lawns of the neighborhood were saturated in the oddest of fallen leaves, deep pinks, bright reds and vibrant yellows. It was almost too bright for Dean to handle. His focus was elsewhere, on the strange sensations in his stomach and strangely, how quiet she was being, staring off across the street at what seemed to be nothing in particular.
“You are pretty quiet this morning.” He noted finally.
“I was just thinking about something I watched last night on TV after you feel asleep.”
“Okay. What was it?”
“And I was also thinking about all the times you have just, like, vanished for days and I never hear from you. How all I can think about is who you might be with, or if you are hurt, or really just drunk wearing the same outfit.”
“C’mon Baby, I told you a million times, I-“
“No please let me finish this is important. I need to talk this out.” Out of nervousness she took out her messy Saturday morning ponytail and let her red hair fall around her shoulder briefly before gathering it up again and re-doing it. “There was a show on PBS last night about Indonesian elephants. It was pretty much just like any regular nature show you would see on Natgeo or something. Anyway, these elephants, the local towns and villages were getting increasingly frustrated with them because they would come into their houses, breaking doors and windows to get at food.”
“Like a bear.”
“Yeah pretty much. Anyway, these conservationists found out a way to find out which elephants were the offenders by following them, sedating them then putting a GPS collar on them to track their movements at night. Once they found out which one it was, they sedated him again, put him in a truck and drove him a few hundred miles away and released him somewhere else away from his home territory. Using the GPS tracing system, they discovered that as soon as they dropped him off, he started right back the other direction, back to his home. He would not even question where he was, he just knew he needed to go back.”
“Um ,okay.”
“I just found it interesting, his basic instinct to run home as soon as he was lost or away from it.”
“What I am like the elephant. I never forget?” He chuckled at his own lame joke, everything seemed funny on a few hours of sleep to him.
“Don’t be fucking cheeky.” She let out a deep sigh. “You are like the elephant, because you will always come home, you can’ resist the comfort of home, of me, of the kids. The difference is the elephant never wanted to leave in the first place.”
Dean looked hard onto his wife’s glassy eyes. Her face was tired and beautiful all at the same time. His heart sank into the middle of his chest. She was about to speak when they both heard a loud bang from behind. They both turned around to see a navy blue minivan plowing down the sidewalk, it had just hit a trash can and was moving fast. Dean felt the immense pressure of two hands on his chest and then he was on the ground, looking up at the clear sky. He heard tires screech. His head was now pounding and his elbows were radiating and tingling from bracing his fall. He looked up to see that the van had some to rest, put to a stop by parked car in a driveway. He could not see her, she was not standing anywhere.
***
Lance surveyed the yard. He was pleasantly surprised that rather than just fake clean up the lawn like they had planned, that they actually only had a small section left to rake. The grass was still mostly green despite the lack of rainfall and human attention. A few large patches of yellow were the only evidence. He looked over to see that they had filled four bags.
Cody threw down the rake. “I need at break! Not to mention I can’t believe that we did put all those is a giant pile first so we could jump into them old school style! Jesus who are we anymore!”
Lance laughed at his brothers theatrics. “But we are so close! C’mon we can show Mom and Dad that we are not completely worthless all the time.”
Cody pushed through Lance’s shoulder as he started for the patio furniture. “Who cares, we will get to it. You can finish if you want but I am sitting down.”
Lance rubbed his shoulder check area feeling slightly defeated. Of course he had to ruin it right at the last second.
“Hey, what time is it? They have been gone a pretty long time.”
“Who knows, it is pretty nice out, maybe they just took a long walk today.”
“You are on your phone right now texting and you can’t even tell me what time it is?”
Cody was about to retort when they heard the front door slam and saw their dad scurrying toward them. He stopped at the door, elbows bloodied, face sweaty and breathing as if he had just sprinted for gold at the Olympics.
“Dad what’s wrong?” Lance asked.
Dean was frozen, his shaking body framed by the portal to the outside. He looked back and forth at this children as he slowly went from standing to sitting, like he was being melted by the sun.
“Dad? Where is Mom?” Cody asked now with more urgency.
Dean began to sob and run his hands back and forth across the top of his head as if he was willing the words out of this brain with the friction of his fingers and palms. Through snot and tears , “She….she pushed me out of the way.”
You are amazing. :)
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