Chapter 27-30

            27.

 

                                                                       

 “And women?”

“I like them very much, but I have not given them much importance”

“You don’t care for them?”

“Yes. But I have not found one that moved me as they say they should move you.”

“I think you lie.”

“Maybe a little.”

 Ernest Hemingway, For Whom the Bell Tolls

 

She liked bookstores, no she loved bookstores. She hated shopping in general but in a bookstore she could stay forever. Walk slowly up and down the aisle, pick up a book, open it, read a line or two and perhaps buy it. Touch the stacks of books on the tables, read the titles, try to figure out what each one was about. Look for the perfect book as a gift, a book she knew someone would love. But today she rushed in, grabbed two books that seemed suitable for a four year old, waited impatiently as the cashier scanned the books, swiped her card, asked her to sign and put the books in a bag.

How slow can he be? Come on!

Each minute felt wasted, she only had about 500 with Robert and she wanted to spend every single one with him. 

Funny feeling to meet someone you don’t really know but you have shared so much with and that you feel so connected to and you still don’t know if you would recognize this person on the street. She looked anxiously around to see if she would know him when she saw him. Of course she did!

Her heart fluttered in her chest when she was able to pick him out in the crowd.

Oh, there he is! There he is! If I could only wrap my arms around him and kiss him deeply and we could walk down the street with his arm around my shoulders and my hand in his back pocket.

She wanted to rush to his apartment, rush down the street so that she could hold him again. Walking next to him like this and not being able to touch him was torture.

In the elevator she couldn’t stay away anymore. She leaned in quickly and gave him a kiss.

“You know they have cameras?” he said and pointed.

So what?

She couldn’t care less.

“Yeah and they will put it out on internet?”

He shook his head.

“No, it’s for security.”

“You don’t say!”

What are you afraid of? Ok, Kristin, don’t be a neurotic bitch.

 

They stood a few feet away and looked at each other.

“I missed you!” he said and grabbed hold of her and kissed her.

“I want you naked,” he said and started to pull on her t-shirt.

“One second,” she said, “let me just…” She removed her watch, her rings and her bracelet and put it on his desk.

It was fun to feel careless like a teenager and they feel into bed.

The sex was good; not the best she ever had, but good. They kissed in that amazing, wonderful, earthshattering way and she wanted it go on, and on, and on until the past had been erased and nothing but the two of them existed.  And when he went down on her. Oh yes! He knew what he was doing! The best she ever had, by magnitude. When he came inside of her she wrapped her legs around his body and squeezed as hard as she could.  

For hours they laid in the bed. Kissing, talking, having sex, eating and some more kissing. Slow relaxed sex. No rush! No kids that might wake up. Only him with his wonderful broad shoulders, grey coarse chest hair and the beautiful blue eyes. She climbed on top of him and rubbed her body against his and kissed him. Inside she sighed with heavenly contentedness.  

She ran her fingers over his chest; the hair was a little longer and therefor a little softer.

“You let this grow from last week?”

“Yes, I am very hairy.”

She gave him a kiss.

“I like that.”

“Then I will let it be.”

He lifted her braid and slowly caressed her back and her shoulders with the tip. It tickled in a very pleasant way. He pulled on it. Gently at first then a little harder. Not painfully hard, just to create some tension in her scalp and it was extremely relaxing.

 She wanted to stay here forever. Be his devoted wife, his companion, his lover, his friend, anything he needed.  Adore him to pieces and take care of him like no one ever had done before.  Massage his shoulders when he had been writing too much. Listen to him speak all day long. Bathe him, scrub his back, and groom him. Make him dinner (steak with baked potatoes, roast beef with mashed potatoes, spicy chili, pork chops with mushrooms. Food for a real man, watch him wolf it down) and at night sleep curled up in bed with him.

 Get a house; work in the garden together, plant things and watch them grow. Buy two big beasts of dogs that could sleep in front of the fire when they read. Have a baby with him. Lay their baby on his broad chest and watch it drift peacefully to sleep.

 At that moment she was dauntingly close to say that she loved him. Because that was what she felt in her whole body.  But instead she said, “You make me feel like I’m back home at my grandfather’s farm.”

She pressed her body into his.

“That is good!” he said and kissed her head. “That means that I make you feel relaxed.”

“Yes,” she said, “but it is more than that, you make me feel like I belong”

He shifted his body weight slightly in the bed so there suddenly was a bit of a distance between them.

“That is sweet,” he said.

Sweet!?!

A restless tang of anxiety moved through her body.

Don’t be a neurotic bitch!

He yawned satisfied. A large feline, pleased after his hunt.

“Let’s nap,” he said and pulled her closer again.

But she couldn’t! All of a sudden he didn’t make her relaxed anymore. She lay close to him and held onto him but she couldn’t fall asleep.  After what felt like an eternity (does time ever move as slow as when you watch someone else sleep peacefully?), he woke up.

“I want some ice cream.”

“What?” he sounded groggy.

“I got a second wind and I want to get some ice cream.”

“Ok,” he said and got out of bed.

In the few hours they had been inside the cold morning wind had changed and turned soft, seducing and sweet. They strolled down the street and bought ice cream from one of those small carts on the sidewalk.

The apple trees were blooming as they walked through the park. She wished she could reach out her hand and hold onto his. Walk proudly next to him; show everybody that this was her man. Stay away women! He is mine! The thought of doing this filled her with such joy and delight and gratification and horrible sorrow.  Of course she couldn’t do that. What if someone she knew would for some reason come walking? The thought felt so abstract at that moment; she only existed here and now. Her real life, her other life was as far away as the moon.

They sat down on one of the benches and looked out over the water. She felt vulnerable here, afraid anyone would come by.

“I should have put on a hoody, then no one would know it was me.”

“Do you feel guilty?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“No, not at all.”

He sat close but not too close.

I hate that I have to hide this.

“My only concern are my children, they always comes first.” She knew she spoke quietly but there was no strength to talk about this matter.

He leaned closer to hear what she was saying. Not asking her to speak up or repeat herself, simply leaning closer. Making an effort.

Whatever happens with us I will always love him for that.

What a strange thought, a doomsday thought.

This will never last!

She shook that thought out of her system. Hard and relentless.

“Let’s go back to the apartment. I want to kiss you again.”

 

Back again, back to the safety of his place. Back to being close and not afraid of eyes that could see things that were not to be seen. They made love again, her hips aching by now.  Her chest was pricked by his chest hair, a love rash. Her nipples were sore and her legs shaking. But it was all worth it.

All of a sudden he got out of bed.

“I have to get going. I’m meeting someone at 6.30.” 

She rolled out of bed and started to get dressed. Suspicion spreading inside of her, glanced at him searching for signs of betrayal.

At least he didn’t shower so he is not planning on being naked. Where is he going now? Why doesn’t he want to stay here with me? Here with me in this wonderful cocoon of yearning and lust.

“We can go together on the subway.”

He buttoned his shirt.

“Sure, I’m getting off at Main Square,” he said, “the subway goes to the train station.”

“I might get off at Main too and get something to eat.”

“Ok, but you better hurry up.”

She moved slower than she normally did. Her subversive streak woke up inside of her, pushing him a little bit to test the waters.

 

They walked down the street to the subway. The late spring afternoon had turned to summer or maybe the heat was coming from inside. The subway platform was stifling so she started to take off her jacket and she could feel how Robert was there instantly, just like the first time, to help her.

Whatever happens with us I will always love him for that.

The subway car was filled with Hispanics and Asians. They were they only ones with light skin and blue eyes; instantly she realized that there was no one she knew there.  In that subway car one of those moments occurred that happens perhaps only once in your lifetime. A moment strong enough to never disappear from your memory. A moment that they would try to recreate in a movie and all the women would sigh and wish they were her. They stood and looked at each other, just looked, eyes locked and smiling. But in that gaze were everything; joy, tenderness, passion and a strong connection. She reached out her hand and carefully caressed his hand, no one could see that. And all of a sudden he leaned in and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

Whatever happens I will always love him for that.

As they stood there, she realized she had forgotten to put on her bracelet again.

“I forgot my bracelet,” she said and showed him her wrist.

“I will keep it safe to next time.”

 

They got off at Main Square; the platform was busy, filled with commuters going home from work. She felt a bit disoriented after the peacefulness of the day.

“You should go this way,” he said and put a hand in between her shoulder blades, “and I’m going this way.”

She walked in a rouge fog to the closest deli and picked up some food. She wasn’t really sure how she got to the station but she had to wait 20 minutes for the train. Her legs were shaking so much she had to sit down on the floor and stretch them in front of her and she was starving. She shoveled in the pasta and the chicken when her cellphone beeped.

Wow Kristin!

She looked at the time; 6:15.

 Wonder if he will stop texting at 6:30? Don’t be a neurotic bitch!

Wow what?

She wrote back, the she put down the phone and kept eating, her whole body was trembling, it felt like she had vigorously been exercising the whole day.   He wrote back straightaway.

 

Meeting you! the whole experience!!

Yeah it was great.

No it was amazing!!!!!

 

His last line made her smile. But yes, at 6.30 he stopped texting.

 When she came home she was beyond exhaustion; she could barely stand up. If her body had smelled of him last time, it was nothing compared to now, now it reeked. In the bathroom she stuck out her tongue and licked her own arm. Tried to taste him. It only made her want to cry.

 

.

                                                                        28.

“No I would not give you false hope
On this strange and mournful day
But the mother and child reunion
Is only a motion away
Oh, Little darling of mine”

Paul Simon

The water on the lake was a dark mirror; the wind did its best to move the smooth surface and perhaps rustle some of the leaves in the trees above. But it was fruitless. The late summer day was stifling hot. Everybody was down by the lake, and most of them were in the water. Squeezing out the last of this long, hot and dry summer, school was only two weeks away.

Kristin’s strawberry blonde hair had turned a brassy white and her arms were covered with tiny freckles. She sat in the shade completely absorbed in “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer”. Jonas and daddy were out by the trampoline. Emma was by the shoreline with her pail and shovel and mommy sat under the umbrella with a cup of coffee and a crossword puzzle.

“Where is Emma?”

Her mother’s voice pulled her out of the book. Kristin squinted towards the sunny spot where she saw Emma last.

“She is down there.” Kristin pointed towards the water.

Her mother stood up suddenly, put her hand over her eyes.

“I can’t see her!” Her mother’s voice had turned a bit shrill.

Kristin rolled her eyes and put down the book.

“She is down there somewhere.”

Her mother dropped the coffee cup on the ground so it splattered all over the crossword puzzle.

“I can’t see her!” her mother said again and started to run. “Emma!” she yelled.

Kristin ran too now, looking desperately for Emma’s yellow sunhat. But she couldn’t see it.

“Emma!” Her mother’s scream was filled with something that made Kristin nauseous.

She ran the opposite direction from her mother. Kids everywhere but no Emma.

“Emma!” she yelled.

She started to feel lightheaded now and her legs trembled.

 

Then her father was there and got hold of her. Oh daddy!

“Have you seen her?” he asked her, his face grey under the reddish-brown tan.

She shook her head and felt how tears started to fill her eyes.

“No!” she said and sobbed.

Her father’s face turned hard and he grabbed hold of her shoulder.

“Don’t cry! We have no time for crying.”

His voice was stern, cold and it made her gasp for air.

“You’re going all the way to the snack bar and I will go up to the parking lot.”

He pushed her in the back and then he took off running up the hill to the small parking lot. She stood still for a second then she started to run again.

“Emma!” she yelled.

Pressed it out as loud as she could, as high as her scrawny body could manage.

A man stood in front of her, he had two teenage boys with him.

“Is someone missing?”

He had blazing blue eyes and dark blond hair; the boys almost exact copies of him, only leaner.

She nodded, out of breath and a strange hot tightness in her chest.

“My little sister. She has a yellow sunhat and a white t-shirt.”

The words stumbled over each other.

“And she is only three.”

The tears were so close to the surface, the man seemed to notice because he put his hand on her shoulder.

“We will help you. She probably only wandered away for a while.”

Kristin nodded and then she started to run again.

 

After about an hour she couldn’t run anymore. Her head was pounding and she was completely out of breath. She found her mother sitting on the blanket with Jonas on her lap.

“I thought it was best I stayed put,” the voice faltered, “so someone is here when she comes back.”

Kristin nodded and went over to the cooler and fished out the lemonade. She drank until she almost choked. Then she slumped down next to her mother and put her head in her lap. Her mother started to stroke her hair, combed it away from her face.

“Maybe I should look some more?” her mother said quietly and pushed the children away. “You stay here!”

Then she was gone.

 

Kristin and Jonas sat quietly, not even looking at each other. After maybe ten minutes her father came back.

“Is she back?” he asked.

His hair was wet from sweat and the veins on his forehead were bulging. Kristin shook her head.

“Fuck!” her father said and rubbed his face. “Fuck!”

He went over to the cooler and grabbed the bottle of lemonade and took a mouthful. Then he hurled the bottle at the closest tree; the glass and the lemonade rained over the ground. 

“I need a fucking drink,” he said and left.

 

She wasn’t sure how long the two of them sat on the blanket and waited. The police came, and grandpa and it seemed like everybody was searching for Emma. When it was close to dinner time the snack bar owner came with plates of hot dogs and soft French fries. Jonas and Kristin gobbled it down. Her mother didn’t touch it and her father walked back and forth on the grass mumbling something about a drink.

When the sun started to set, a police officer with grey hair and a mustache came over to them.

“We will keep searching but you can go home if you want,” he said.

His face was neutral. Gave no signs of what he thought the outcome would be from this search.

“No,” her mother said, “we are staying”

He nodded and then he left again.

 

Kristin and Jonas laid on the blanket and her mother had put all the towels over them. They were supposed to be sleeping. Jonas had already fallen asleep; he was laying on his side, breathing with is mouth open. Kristin stared up at the black sky; searched for the Little Dipper and the Three Wise Men, she couldn’t find them. She pulled the cooler night air down in her lungs, let it sit there for a while before she slowly let it out again. The air tasted of cigarettes, coffee, sweat and something cold and hard.

She woke up, startled and surprised. The scream bounced in her ears. Cracked her soul in two. Where did it come from, this horrible sound? She sat up confused and looked around.

Her mother was sitting on the ground holding onto a big doll dressed in a white t-shirt. The police and everybody else that had been searching stood around her with the flashlights aimed at the ground. Kristin tilted her head to the side, tried to understand what she saw. Her mother kept screaming that horrible scream.

The next thing she remembered was that she sat in the backseat of grandpa’s old Buick.

“What happened grandpa?”

“Let’s talk in the morning.”

 

 

29.

 “It doesn’t work. Don’t mind me darling. Please don’t cry. Don’t mind me. I’m just gone all to pieces. You poor sweet. I love you so and I’ll be good again. I’ll be good this time”

Ernest Hemingway, A Farwell to Arms

 

 

Dread and restlessness filled her body when she woke up. His taste and smell still lingered on her body and she longed for him so much it hurt. John was still sleeping and the thought of getting up, packing a bag and leaving the house forever was right there in the forefront of her mind.

The sun hadn’t even started to rise when she got up. To walk down the stairs was hard. Her hips were aching and the inside of her thighs hurt so much she had to check she wasn’t bruised. She stood by the kitchen counter; hyperventilated and tried to calm herself down in some way but nothing seemed to help.

I am losing him! I am losing him! I am losing him. Soon he will disappear. I can’t take that!

She wanted to call him and talk to him but she didn’t know if that would be the right thing to do. The way she was feeling at the moment wasn’t very attractive, she knew that. She would probably come across as clingy and demanding and neurotic.

Since it was Saturday, a pancake breakfast was on the agenda. She started to prepare the batter to have something to keep her mind from turning into pure panic.

“Mommy!” Anna stood next to her suddenly; she had not heard the little girl come downstairs.

“Mommy, you are spilling.”

Confused, Kristin looked down at the floor; it was covered in beige batter drops.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Let’s clean it up!”

She reached for the paper towels and started to wipe the floor.

Don’t cry, you will only scare Anna. Don’t cry! There is no time for crying!  

In the middle of breakfast she realized what was bothering her. Little pieces and warning signs made a complete picture in her mind. He saw an awful lot of people for someone claiming to have very little time. And who was he going to see yesterday, right after she left? Why didn’t he simply cancel the plans? Why did they have to rush out the door in the middle of something wonderful? And do you really answer; “That is sweet”, when someone basically tells you that you are in love with them?

Perhaps he shared something more with her father besides for an astrological sign. Now she could see the same restlessness in him. That same urge to never have anyone binding you down. And now she was sure he would leave.

This realization did not lessen the panic in her body but escalated it into burning frenzy. Was this her fears? Or pure instinct?

She snuck away a text message and asked if she could call him. But this Saturday was different from the last, he never answered. One hour passed, two hours, three and eventually she was almost sure she had an asthma attack even though she didn’t even have asthma. But her chest was so tight and each breath only reached the upper part of her lungs. When she tried to breathe deeply it hurt.

Finally, after lunch she got a chance to write him an email.

I have had a day filled with thoughts and doubts. Starting a new relationship is always hard for me because my childhood left me with issues of trust. And since our situation isn’t the most secure I easily see signs of betrayal.

I am not saying that you have betrayed me in anyway but since I haven’t been able to get hold of you today I feel very on the edge. Every person that I have felt close to, I have lost in one way or another and to lose you would be almost unbearable to me because I feel so close to you already.

I am sorry if I seem clingy or demanding in anyway, I will try to keep my demons under better control in the future.

 She sat by the computer for 30 minutes pretending to order some clothes for the kids, but he never answered.

Eventually, the restlessness drove her out of the house. She sent another text message even though it made her feel like a demanding bitch. He never answered, not even to say he couldn’t talk. She kicked every stone she saw, every tuft of grass but it did not help at all. Her body was bursting with fire ants. Biting her skin, crawling around in her muscles, filling her head with hot fog. Eventually she stopped by a tree on the side of the road and put her arms around it.

“Help me! Calm me down! Take all this panic out of my body.”

A weak sense of calmness came to her, a feeble breeze on a sizzling day, not enough to make any real difference.

In the afternoon she started to write a poem, she hadn’t written one in a long time. But she had to do something with all the thoughts in her head, to try to get them organized in some fashion.   At first the words were struggling to come out but all of a sudden they started to flow.

 

The heart, the wolf and the lion

My tender, soft heart is very close to loving you.

 She dreams of standing next to you

watching the heather turn on the hills of your island.

She wants to curl up on your chest,

and never, ever leave again.

But the wolf inside of me is worried.

She can sense the lion in you,

the hunting instinct,

the big, untamed beast.

 

She narrows her eyes,

takes deep breaths to taste the air.

And inside of her is an anxious growl,

she wants me to leave.

Now!

“The male lion,” she tells me,

“Likes to be surrounded by females.

His ego needs to be in the middle,

lapping up the attention.

He likes the hunt,

and the thrill,

much more than the actual kill.

Don’t forget that he is a cat.

 Don’t forget they play with their prey.”

 

 She is only a small wolf.

A creature of the forest,

with keen senses and

 vivid perception.

But no match for a lion,

if he gets hold of her.

So she tells me to run.

 

Follow your heart they say.

But my heart is not trustworthy,

it is too soft, too romantic,

Too loving.

So this time I want to follow

my feral self,

who tells me to not trust the lion.

Even though my heart cries out,

in agony ,

when she imagines

she can’t be close to you anymore.

Don’t do it!

You will forever regret it!

He is the one!

 

The wolf nips at the heels of my tender heart.

“Stay back”, she growls,

“I am here to protect you!”

She has been captured before,

Battered

Hurt

Into cautiousness.

“But,” my heart now whispers,

 trying to calm the wolf.

“He is like me. The only one I ever met.”

She reaches out,

caresses the raised hair on the wolf’s back.

The wolf lifts its lip and shows her teeth.

“Don’t trust the lion.”

The growl comes from the bottom of her stomach.

“He seeks the female attention his mother never gave him.

 He will ruin you!”

My tender heart sits down next to the wolf,

Puts her arms around the shivering body.

“Shhh, shhh,” she whispers into its ear.

“Fear is not the way.”

The wolf jumps backwards, away from my heart.

“Fool,”  she growls.

 

The heart and the wolf,

stand a few feet away

from each other.

Staring,

Evaluating,

Further away than before.

 

For a few minutes she felt calm and collected but then her demons started to gnaw  her again. The ants bit their way into her muscles, burrowed their bodies and spread their burning venom.

Not even cooking made her feel calm, it normally did. Something with the predictability, the patterns she could control, she knew exactly what was needed and what to add and at what time.  

When the kids finally were asleep she turned on the computer, one email was waiting for her. She anxiously opened it.

 Kristin,

I have been out the whole day and I didn’t see your message until now. Perhaps we should reconsider what we are doing. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.

 She wanted to scream from the top of her lungs. This was not at all what she meant! Fuck! Frantically she started to write a new email, trying hard to explain what she meant.

Dear Robert,

You have not hurt me in anyway. On the contrary you have made my life much better and richer. You are an amazing man and you have made me feel so strongly. I am not sure I have ever felt like this for anyone ever.

You make me feel like I belong with you and I can’t see myself without you. You are the most intriguing and interesting person I have ever met.

I have scars on my soul and just like a scar on your body can hurt, these scars can hurt. But a scar on your body you can rub to make it feel better. The scars on your soul might make you scared or angry or on the edge.

I have never been good at casual dating; to be honest I have not really dated that many men. I have only chosen to be with men I feel a real connection to and I knew didn’t see our relationship as a game or would leave me in a whim.  I am not saying that you see our relationship as a game or that you are about to vanish.

I would really hate for something that happened a long time ago to ruin perhaps the best thing I haveever encountered.

She pressed send and her whole body was shaking, waited another 30 minutes but he didn’t write back.

This is it! He is leaving! But he didn’t leave when you told him you were married. He won’t leave! Yes he will!

The day’s anxiety had made her dog-tired. She went to bed, took a sleeping pill and waited for the numbing peaceful sleep. Nothing happened! She was awake for one, two, John went to bed, three, four hours. Then she tip toed to the bathroom and then to the computer. She turned it on, another email was waiting. She opened it. Got cold all over, read the letters, didn’t understand. Read it again, still didn’t understand, read it again.

Kristin,

You have brought an intensity to our interaction I am not ready for. I am not responsible for how I make you feel. I am actually frightened. Send me your address and I will mail your bracelet.  

 

 

30.

“I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!”

Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

 

When she woke up she felt confused. Where was she? The room was familiar but still she wasn’t sure at first. She looked over at the big cabinet in the corner, wondered why she lay here on the floor and slowly sat up.

Then she remembered how they had come home from the lake. Grandpa carried the sleeping Jonas into the big bed and put him down. Then he dragged a mattress from the bunk bed upstairs and put it on the floor next to his bed. Asked Kristin if she was hungry, when she shook her head he laid down on the bed with all his clothes on and had urged Kristin to lay down.  He whispered a story to her until she fell back to sleep.

Now it was light out, she wondered what time it was and where grandpa was. Jonas still slept heavily. Careful to not awaken him she got up from the mattress and opened the door and walked to the kitchen.

No bacon or eggs in the black skillet today. Grandpa sat by the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and the dogs by his feet. He looked more tired than she ever had seen him. Older, broken down, fragile. His skin seemed to have lost some of its warmth and his white hair, that he always kept neat, was a big mess on his head.

She stood still in the doorway, quiet, cautious,  then she stepped into the kitchen.

“Good morning grandpa.”

He lifted his gaze from the table and looked at her.

“Good morning,” he said meagerly.

She moved over to the kitchen table, not sure what to do with this transformed grandpa.

“Where are mommy and daddy? And where is Emma?”

Grandpa rubbed his face with both hands, sighed tormented and stood up.

“You should get some breakfast,” he said and walked over to the cabinet, “French toast?”

“Ok.”

Grandpa sliced the bread, cracked the eggs, fried the French toast and put them on a plate with blue flowers. He poured syrup on top and placed it in front of her. The sweet smell was overpowering and sticky.  She ate them even though they grew and swelled like sponges in her mouth.

“Where are mommy and daddy?” she asked again and pushed the plate away from her.

Grandpa sighed again.

“They are home in the apartment.”

“Why? Is Emma there too?”

Grandpa shook his head and took her hand.

“No, Emma is dead. She drowned.”

Kristin stared at him, heard the words but didn’t understand.

“Why?” she asked.

Grandpa only shook his head.

“I don’t know, Kristin. I don’t know.”

And then grandpa cried. Her big strong, everlasting, calm, collected, never angry grandpa cried. She couldn’t stand it! She pushed the chair away and ran out the door. The dogs followed in her step.

She ran straight out in the woods. Followed no trail. Flew over rocks. Ran through bushes. They scraped her face but she didn’t feel it. Fell, got up again and kept running. No thoughts at all in her head. No feelings! Only urgency!

The dogs ran next to her, a shadow of white and brown. Their tongues out. Happy to have a human to run with, the way they ran in the woods. But they felt the tension in this small human. A tension that needed company. And they would not leave her side.

The river was there suddenly, she almost fell down the riverside. If it hadn’t been for the tree she was able to grip with her arm she would have dove in head first. The water was moving lazily, thick and brown as golden syrup, under the warm summer sun.

She slumped down on the ground, breathing heavily with a pain in her side. The dogs sat down next to her, she could smell their warms bodies and the sweet smell of their breath.

A big old maple hung over the river. The tree was Y shaped; a branch almost as big as the trunk reached out above the water. She sat and stared at that branch for a long time, then she walked over to it and started to slide and climb out over the water. The dogs got anxious; this was not a game they knew or understood.

The branch was as wide as her body and she fit perfectly. She laid down with her body on the branch, her arms and legs hanging down.  A tiger in a tree in the jungle.

Her mind was empty but her throat and eyes burned. Her body heavy, filled with lead weights. She would never be able to move again. She could become one with this tree branch and never have to go home again. The thunder rumbled in the distance and she slid into that spot inside where she didn’t feel a thing.

The dogs betrayed her; when they heard grandpa’s voice, they started to bark and soon grandpa stood with Jonas on the riverbank.

“Can you come down?” he asked gently.

She wouldn’t move, kept staring into the water, pretending they weren’t there. Eventually, grandpa crawled out on the branch and grabbed her and brought her to land. He carried her home as the rain started to fall, gigantic ice cold raindrops, the temperature dropping ten degrees.  Slowly at first, drop, drop, on her head then faster and harder, splatter, splatter. Soaked all of them in seconds.