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304 North Cardinal St.
Dorchester Center, MA 02124
It’s a Small World
Sylvia locked the bathroom door, but didn’t know why she bothered. She plopped down on the closed commode and listened to the rush of two voices outside. “I didn’t know she’d come home,” her husband apologized.
“Well, you better next time,” the feminine voice returned. She couldn’t cry; it was no real surprise. She had suspected his affairs for months. Hang-ups when she answered the telephone, a few too many “private business” calls to him when he wasn’t working. He was often out all night, “working” when his pay stubs noted vacation time. He’d sneak a day or two off without her knowledge. Although she always found out in one way or the other.
She couldn’t pretend to be crushed. Her heartache existed, only it felt different than what she expected. He had only proved what her intuition had known all along. It was a difficult situation to come home early and see your husband with someone else. All she wanted was to have some quality time and see if they could be like they used to be. When they were first married they were crazy in love and addicted to one another. Then she had the pleasure of meeting his mistress. Thank God we don’t have kids.
Gerald tried to blame her for it as he scrambled in the other room. It was the same schlock he’d said before. Her job required forty to sixty hours a week, not twenty or thirty like his. She paid rent and put food on the table, while he paid for utilities. She paid the majority of their bills, while he received the majority of pleasure and not from her.
She hadn’t changed her clothes, hadn’t let go of her purse. She hadn’t even slipped her shoes off, nor would she. He stood on the other side of the bathroom door, his anger finally turned to tears. “Honey, please, we can work this out. I’m so sorry, I’m a bastard, and I’ll admit it first. I was so wrong. So terribly wrong . . .” His voice trailed off into nothingness.
Her mind was whirling from the surprise. Life’s a bitch, ain’t it, honey? The whisper from the back of her mind. Yes, it was. He apologized, but she didn’t care, she couldn’t care. It was all too much and she was so tired. He hadn’t changed before. He would never change.
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and sighed. She clutched her purse tighter. She didn’t really know what she would do. He was probably standing outside the door, in his underwear, begging and pleading as usual. It was probably a pair from the pack of boxers she bought the week before.
He said things that she couldn’t hear. He was distant and ghostly, his voice vainly echoed through her mind. None of his statements registered; he apologized like a robot; he even cried with flat dramatics.
She stood and slipped out the door past him. His pleas now became angry. She packed the suitcase and his temper grew. He raised his voice to curse himself and then her as she piled clothing in the case.
She couldn’t believe she actually caught him in the act. It re-ran over and over like a horrible movie in her mind. The Heartbreak Matinee: “Tonight featuring the break-up of your marriage. See the drama unfold as your spouse is lying in bed with another. See the anguish you endure, see the . . .” The comedic movie phone scene in her mind ended.
She placed the remainder of her clothes in the case and closed the lid. She strode out the front door. He screamed behind her, but she couldn’t hear a word. Her ears felt full of gauze and cotton balls. She walked out on their porch; he followed like a puppy. He tagged behind her in his underwear and bare feet.
It would probably appear touching through the eyes of an onlooker.
Not someone who had just experienced what she had. The winter night woke her senses. She gave a faint smile to her barefooted husband wearing only underwear while snow fell. She was numb and mechanical. Her heart beat rapidly as she slammed the car door behind her. He stood outside the car cursing and demanding. He repeatedly kicked the front wheel; all she could hear was a thump against the tire.
She stuck the key in the ignition, although she didn’t know where she would go. She had little time to make friends or to keep in touch with family with her schedule. There had to be places to go. Hope swelled within her chest. It is a big world after all. A great big world full of people and laughter and parties.
She backed out of the drive and he still tried to follow. He slipped and slid on the icy pavement. He tried to grasp the car door handle. She ignored him. The humor was now gone. He didn’t love her. He hadn’t loved her in a long time.
He was likely just pissed that he would have to pay rent. She drove into the pitch-black night. She watched him in the rearview mirror. He stopped his tantrum and was just watching.
The snow became sleet as she drove out of the mountains. It turned into a steady rain covering the region, and she prepared for a drive in the heavy precipitation. Fog blanketed everything and encompassed the road in a gauzy cloud.
The pavement was glossy under the headlights. She had her entire life ahead of her. She could have a new job and a new home. Someday, maybe even a new love. A faint voice bitterly resonated, “Another husband to do you the same way.” She brushed the thought aside; that was paranoia speaking. She cracked the window and inhaled the cool, damp night air.
Her mind played the previous events over and over. She had opened the front door and heard wild noises coming from the bedroom. She was always terrified he would have a seizure or there would be some medical emergency that left her helpless to save him. It was her greatest fear, had been her greatest fear.
She darted up the steps and flung open the master bedroom door. There they were, both of them. They lay in bed together and had just pulled away from a deep kiss. They were in the same bed she slept in. The same bed she made love to him in.
She kept her calm; her shock wouldn’t allow any vivid exhibition of rage. “Aw . . . Did I come at the wrong time?” She fired sarcasm at her husband with venom and loathing.
At first, they seemed shocked and hung their heads. It was a split-second before they scrambled to find their clothing. She looked down at both of them; it surprised her that he was such a perverse bastard. She never expected such degradation to their relationship, not in their own bed, not like this.
She felt a haughty sense towards them; they were dirty. Filthy little people with filthy little secrets. They deserved one another. They could share a life of squalor. They could continue to drag one another down through those depths.
She then went to the bathroom and waited. She hoped an idea would come and she could decide what she would do. She waited for her mind to accept what she had just witnessed. Seconds crawled by, then minutes, yet she didn’t wake as she anticipated. She still felt fuzzy, almost incoherent.
Her heartbeat slowed as the miles passed by. The world seemed chaotic and sluggish. She’d always believed that something like that would result in immediate heartbreak. She had believed it would be crushing and screams would erupt, violence would ensue. It wasn’t so. It was slow and painful. It almost leisurely poured into her soul. The vows meant nothing. The years meant nothing. The sacrifice was for a lost cause which would never rise from the ashes. All her hard work and sacrifice meant . . . shit. He didn’t care.
She stopped the car and pulled over. She shifted it into park and let it idle. There had to be an idea of somewhere to go, something she could do, or someone to visit. She waited for hope to rescue her.
She looked out over the landscape. It was empty and black, a world full of nothingness. It was a big old world out there. Or was it? A question of doubt shrouded the tiny spark of hope. She looked sideways and a bright prick of light shone in the distance. A flashlight from miles away.
There were billions of people in the world, all with the ability to love . . . To love . . . To inflict the same torture on her. The light grew to resemble a lamp. It was probably poachers. The light glowed and the illumination split the darkness surrounding her. Perhaps it wasn’t a big old world after all. It was a lonely world filled with cruelty and despondency. It was a heartless place of deceptive beauty and self-concern. Maybe it just wasn’t worth trying again. The light grew larger with each second.
Maybe it’s a small world, she thought as a freight train slammed into the driver’s side of her car. The force sent the automobile flying into oblivion and her body was crushed on impact. Maybe it was an awfully small world.
