Figures

A most curious situation I've found myself in today, most curious indeed.  How curious and peculiar it is that I should find my very life depending on a quarter inch of plastic and rubber. 

         How could such a thing be so, one should ask.  How did such a strange predicament beset someone so careful, so particularly precise?  Well, I've got nothing but time now, a few hours at least, so I shall tell you.  A secret just between you and me, it was all on account of that damned, no good, lazy boorish brother-in-law of mine.

         He knows how particular I am about my work.  I keep a very tidy cubicle, organized and alphabetized to be a finely tuned workspace.  It's hardly something the three-buttons would notice, but my associates appreciate my pristine habits and respect me enough to not muss it up.  My brother in law has respect for no one and thus it came to be that one beautiful sunny Tuesday in May, he very nearly murdered me, my life depending on that quarter inch of plastic and rubber.

         I do not mix personal life and my work life.  My sister knows it, my parents know that, and what friends I have all know that, but apparently, my brother in law does not.  At precisely 11:45, fifteen minutes after all my coworkers left for lunch, I stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby, nodded at the security guard behind the front desk, and headed to the bistro on the corner.  The walk was short but enjoyable and by noon I was taking the first delectable bite of my French dip with au jus, accompanied by a green tea with jasmine, something Bobby doesn't usually do, but for me, well, he likes to meet the needs of his best tipper, and his one and only regular.

         At approximately a quarter past noon, as I was finishing my lunch and reading my daily news, a shadow passed across my paper and interrupted me.  “Hey Janie, got a minute?”

         “Rick, what are you doing here?” I sighed, trying to return to my news as he slid into the seat opposite mine.

         “Got off early, boss figured we wouldn't risk laying the concrete if the storm gets here before it sets.”

         “How very interesting.”

         “Figured I could come pick your mind about something.”

         “Well, perhaps another time, I have to be back in the office in fifteen minutes,” I breezed, glancing pointedly at my watch as I collected my things.

         “Oh come on, Janie, don't be like that,” he began as I stood, bill in hand.

         “Bobby?” I called.

         “Just leave it on the counter Madam, you know I trust you.”  Anywhere else I'd have asked for a receipt, but Bobby's is a world of its own, one in such honesty is never questioned, not even by Bobby.  I left the check and bill by the register, the tip on the table, and started for the door, followed by the worthless hound who calls himself my brother in law.  My sister could have and should have done so much better. 

         “Hold up, Janie,” he whined, catching my hand where it held the door, “just let me ask you one favor.”  Rick's favors run from a cup of coffee to a place to sleep or a spare fifty from your wallet and have never ever been repaid.

         “My name is Jane and no favors.  Shouldn't you be at home helping Kathy put together Joshua's party?”  I countered, jerking my hand free and storming down the sidewalk. 

         The daily life of the city continued as usual, the sounds of business – toned voices just one thread of the harmony of the city, woven amongst the constant traffic and somewhere not far off, road construction underway.  Above it all, Rick was calling my name, still standing in the doorway of Bobby's, and then he was pushing and shoving his way through the crowds towards me.  “Janie, Jane, listen, come on,” he weaseled.  I did my best to tune him out, but he caught up with me, grabbing the sleeve of my gray silk over shirt as I prepared to cross the street dividing myself from the block my office sat on.

         “Unhand me, I'm not your wife and I'll do you no favors.  God, what does she see in you?” The den of busy suits flowed passed, leaving the two of us standing against the crowd.

         “Jane, I'm sorry,” he began, his hand stiffly opening, fingers splayed wide.  He looked as if I'd slapped him.  Good.  “Listen, I just need you to help me out, one last time.  I just need you to loan me your car, I'll have it back by the time you get off work, please.”

         “Absolutely not.”  The crosswalk lit white again and I used the opportunity to end the conversation, losing him in the crowd, and he let me.  Why any woman with a college degree, so set on curing the world, would marry her unemployed high school sweetheart and give up her career to raise babies is not only beyond my understanding, it's beyond my comprehension. 

         The clock in the lobby read 12:30, the time I usually am settling back into my office chair.  Damn.  I pride my punctuality second only to my tidiness.  I jammed the top button and watched helplessly at the elevator crawled back down from the twelfth floor to fetch me up to the seventh.  By the time I stepped out of the elevator, it was a quarter to one, and I was a blistering fifteen minutes behind.  There seemed to be a gathering of sorts near the back row of the cubicles, my department.  As I approached, I saw that amongst my coworkers were the three buttons from upstairs, and they did not seem particularly happy.  One took notice of me and turning, spoke in the deep, pompous tone they all seemed to use, “Ah, how nice of you to join us, Ms. Shilts, we were beginning to wonder if we should file a missing persons report downtown, but it seems you've found your way back, finally.”

         “Yes sir, I got a little detained on the street.”

         “Yes well, try to be more prompt from now on.”  He smoothed the left lapel of his pinstriped jacket, adjusting his red tie before moving his thick hand to rest in the small pocket near the third gold button.  His hand barely fit against the solid roundness of his well fed stomach.  His smile oozed with condescending pride, as if he had won some battle of wits, he'd bested me.  After a moment of enduring his presence, I simply returned to my cubicle to hopefully regain a bit of my lost time.  A full twenty minutes behind, it was half past one by the time I caught up to being only five minutes behind in my usual work duties; I would have to work at twice the pace to be finished by five thirty and be at Kathy's by six thirty.  Damn.  At three thirty, as I was typing a systems report, my phone jangled me from my thoughts mid sentence.  It was Rick.

         “Hey, Janie, listen, here's the deal.  I hitched a ride downtown with a friend of mine, but he's gotta go somewhere and I'm not ready.  Do you think you could pick me up on your way home and drop me by my house by six?”

         “No.”

         “Oh come on, Janie, why you gotta be that way.  Why do you hate me, it was Kathy's decision, why can't you just be happy for her.”

         “Because the first time I put her back together, she was seventeen and it was a week before junior prom.  The second time was after graduation.  As far as I'm concerned, it's only a matter of time before I have to do it again.” I kept my voice still and cool, despite my sudden need to scream, to do more than simply hurt this man.

         “Okay, fine, I can understand that, but she's happy now.”  There was traffic in the background, muffled most likely by a Plexiglas phone booth.  He sounded tense, like he wanted a cigarette or to pace, but he couldn't.

         “Yes, but how long do educated women really stay happy in a lifestyle they can so easily escape?  How long will my sister play house and put up with living your dream and not hers?”  I carefully replaced the receiver on it's cradle, then sat perfectly still for just a moment or two, breathing, pressing my hands to my desk until the muscles strained and the flesh turned white.  I waited, but he didn't call back.  The rest of the afternoon passed slowly, my entire schedule about five minutes behind compared to my usual day, but seemingly without further incident.           

         At 5:25, fifteen minutes behind schedule, I shut down my computer and organized my projects by importance for the next day.  The sky darkened with the storm due about 6:30, and hopefully I‘d already be at Kathy‘s by then.  I’d hate to be late again today.  I reached for my raincoat and umbrella only to remember I'd left them in my car last Thursday.  I slid into my light jacket, looped my purse on my shoulder and headed out. It was usually a ten minute walk to the parking garage I always parked in, and it was already five thirty.  When I stepped out of the elevator the lobby clock read 5:40.  At this rate, I wouldn't have time to stop by home but have to go straight to the party.  Good thing I’d put Joshua's birthday present and card were in the trunk of my little four-door. 

         Outside the air was thick, almost palpable, and wet in my lungs, and overhead the sky grumbled softly, threatening an early arrival.  I moved quickly, in hopes of arriving at my car before the storm.  The bottom of my silk skirt fluttered gently against my knees as I slowed at the corner, waiting for the crosswalk to light.  The change was punctuated by another, stronger groan overhead and I felt the air turn cool against my skin as the now black sky above me issued an angry roll of full blown thunder.  I could see the parking garage glowing orange with the standard hazard lamps mere yards away when the sky split with lightning and burst forth with a torrent of cold, fat raindrops splattering around me.  I sprinted awkwardly in my pumps, but by the time I reached the covered garage, I was utterly soaked.

         Great.  Now I had no choice but to drive home and change before going to Kathy's and I would surely be late.  No, I would not be late for the second time today.  Kathy could just loan me something to put on when I got there and we could toss mine in the dryer.  I found my car and headed out of the garage, making my way through the pounding rain towards the highway, wipers flapping wildly, my high beams glittering on the road.  It was only 6:15, but it seemed as if there were no sun at all and a few icy pebbles bounced off the hood of my little car as the wind shoved me about the road.  The radio switched over from talk to the high pitched wail of warning, no doubt for us, and I punched the button to listen to the storm outside. 

         I nearly missed my exit as lightning momentarily blinded me, but recovered myself and coasted down the ramp, taking a right, headed for Kathy's with five minutes to make it there.  Here the wind bowed trees at grotesque angles and the streets were a mess of leaves and twigs and a few unlucky limbs along the curb.  I slowed, watching the road critically, but I heard a hollow pop as my car jolted to the right.  Damn.  I checked my mirrors for other cars, but there was only me, and I pulled over and parked.  My umbrella was still in the trunk, so I prepared myself for the cold rain and shoved out of my car, letting the wind slam the door behind me.  I ran around the side, hunching my back against the slicing, icy rain and prayed I could avoid the hail as I bent to check the tires.  The rear had caught a large triangle of thick window glass I hadn't seen in the road.  It was beyond repair, and there was no way I could safely drive on it, but a quick survey of my surroundings illuminated an emergency phone where I'd come down off the highway, and it wasn't far at all.  I would have just knocked on someone's door and borrowed their phone, but this wasn't exactly the best neighborhood, it was just a shortcut to the newer homes near where Kathy lived.  I could call her and tell her where I was and then just go back to my car and wait. 

         I started for the phone, awkwardly jogging in my heels; I could have moved faster without them, but with that kind of glass around, it wasn't safe.  I kept my hands near my face in case of icy golf balls, which plummeted and shattered against the concrete all around me.  It was as if God had waged war on us, bombing from some place too high to retaliate.  His aim improved; the hailstones no longer missed but pelted my body, stinging my bare legs and thinly covered back and arms.  The lightning and thunder were in unison now, the wind's shrieks accompanied the high-pitched wail of a citywide storm warning, which could be heard only between the deafening crash of the thunder, but I was almost there.  Stupidly, I began to run, heedless of the cracked and crumbling sidewalk my heels could catch in.  Beneath me, my right heel slipped and stuck in a hole and I pitched forward.

         A long moment passed before I got my bearings, but the combination of the cold pavement and a warm, strangely coppery taste in my mouth brought me back to myself.  Slowly, I tested my arms to see if they'd hold me, and pushed myself up enough to roll over.  My head pounded, echoing the thunder that would drown out any sounds I made, and my eyes refused to focus.  All I could make out was leaves, green with fresh growth against the black sky, and I turned my head ever so slightly to find the tree, an old and gnarled oak standing a foot or so to my right. I turned back to stare at the swaying branch above me, the leaves fluttering helplessly in the brutal wind, the movement drawing a long groan from the old wood.  I jerked to a sitting position but my stomach lurch and I had to turn quickly and let it spill out onto the sidewalk beside me.  I slumped back down, doing nothing more than breathing and thinking of my next plan of action.  The thick limb bounced and waved wildly, toying with the lines, pressing the wood to it's limits until it screamed and snapped, dragging the lines with it on it's way to the ground to crush me.

         Green blotted out black and my chest and stomach ached with the weight of the limb.  I could breathe, but not sit up.  Something akin to rope or cord was pressed against my breast and chin and forehead.  My arms were not fully pinned so I guided my hands blindly to grasp at it, a tiny piece of cording, less than an inch around, less than half an inch.  Slightly flexible like rubber or plastic, I could pinch and roll it between my fingers.  I tried to decipher this, but my head pounded and spun and I could not control it enough to focus on one thought.  All I could think was that I would have been on time, I would have beaten the storm, would have gone to Kathy’s from the other way since I lived just west of her, and the office is northeast, and glass would probably not have been on that road.  And I would have been on time; my day would have been normal and fine if it weren’t for Rick, my damned, no good, lazy, boorish brother in law.  Everything would have been fine without him.

         He took my sister from me when we were in high school.  I’d just gotten permission from Dad to drive to school my senior year, and she met Rick when we were driving home one day.  She’d nudged me at the stoplight and nodded in his direction, waggling her eyebrows.  He sat in the lane next to us in something that hadn’t seen glory days since before we were born.  I remember that first arrogant smile, the one that said I know what you want, the one he gave Kathy as he pulled away, blowing exhaust everywhere.  Suddenly she didn’t want to rid with me in the Honda, she preferred his car, his company.  Bitter, I know, but we had shared everything friends and sisters could before him.  But who was there when he decided he’d rather take some busty, empty-headed blonde to the junior prom four months later?  Me.  He didn’t even call, he just did it.

         There we are, me holding my tongue while we waited for him for half an hour.  Finally I talked Kathy into riding with me and when we got there, lo and behold, Rick was there with Bubbles or whatever her name was.  She couldn’t even approach him, she just turned and quietly left and I prayed I’d never have to see that crushed look in her eyes ever again, but I did.  Somehow he convinced her to take him back; he’d made a mistake, give him a second chance and whatnot. 

         In the fall I started college, leaving her to her own whims.  She called often, but all she talked about was Rick.  I didn’t visit much, I was six states away, but when I came home for Christmas, she was always off somewhere with him, being in love.  She had narrowed her college choices down to three, all great nursing schools, one of them here in Chicago with me.  She always loved helping people and she had a knack for medicine.  I flew home for her high school graduation, prepared to see very little of her again, but I was wrong.  Rick has wonderful timing; it seems he knows just when someone should be happiest, and chooses then to destroy him.  I was looking for her in the crowd; she was looking for him.  Amongst the gold and blue clad graduates, she saw him laughing, smiling at someone, then lean in for a kiss.  The crowd shifted and I spotted her at this exact moment and watched her heart break as Rick kissed someone else at graduation the way he always kissed her.

         That was it.  She chose the school in Chicago, six states away from Rick, refused his calls and burned his letters.  She finished top of her class and started working right away, even started dating again.  Even found a guy who treated her nice, but Rick decided to drop in for a visit and that was it.  Suddenly she’s pregnant and getting married.  Rick got a job and someone had to stay home with Joshua, so that was the end of Kathy’s career.

         My head swam in the sea of green and I vaguely realized the coppery taste still lingering in my mouth might be blood.  As the sirens finally wound down, leaving an eerie quiet, even the wind hushed itself, shushing everything else much the way mothers do at bedtime.  I was so tired it felt as if my body was sinking, sleep sucking at my mind and pulling me in, and I let it. 

         I blinked hard against white light, would this lightning never stop?  I slowly became aware of being warm, and rain no longer beat against my face.  I took a breath, far easier than I had only moments ago, and instead of leaves and wet pavement, I smelled roses.  Curious, I forced my heavy lids to rise, to let me take in my surroundings once more.  White room, mechanical sounds.  A white pillow rested beneath my head, a white blanket covered me, and a white curtain contained my space.  Heaven?  “Ms. Shilts, you have visitors.”  The voice was soft but cheerful.  Hospital.

         The curtain slid away, drawn by the hand that came with the voice, a woman, maybe twenty five, maybe thirty like me.  Next to her stood Kathy and Joshua, his curls unruly as ever, like his mom’s, only more gold than red.  He had his dad’s blue eyes, Kathy’s nose.  Josh smiled at me, a little uncertain, pressed tightly to Kathy’s leg.  I tried to smile back, but my face ached and my lips stung.  “Can’t do that yet, you’ll tear your stitches.”  The nurse was gentle but firm as she said this from where she’d moved to check the monitors to my left.

         Stitches?  I commanded my right hand to rise, and thankfully it listened, sliding up my chest and chin to rest on my swollen upper lip and three plastic lines at the bow.  Even the light touch burned through my skin and I dropped my hand.  “Give it time, healing takes patience,” and with that, the nurse patted my left hand gently, smiled, and left, promising to be back soon. 

         “You missed my birthday party, Aunt Janie.”  Without an outside observer around, he let go of his mother and came to stand beside the bed.  Kathy pulled a chair over and sat down.  I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound came out.  I swallowed and tried again.

         “I tried, sweetie, but I ran late at work and got caught in the storm.”  My voice was rough, sounding slightly strangled even to me.

         “I know, Daddy saved you.”  He smiled and bounded off to the far corner where Rick waited silently.  My mind tried to put it together, but I didn’t have enough pieces.  “He lifted the whole tree up.”

         “The cabbie helped,” Rick clarified, pushing off the wall and crossing the room to stand at the foot of the bed.  He smiled sheepishly, not the arrogant smile I remembered, his eyes held relief instead of disregard as they used to.  My confusion must have shown, because he continued.  “I caught a cab home from the city, and we saw your car and stopped.  The two of us moved the limb, but you wouldn’t wake up, so we called an ambulance and they came and got you.  You’re lucky that phone line was there otherwise that limb could’ve broken some ribs, you might have died.”  He spoke calmly, trying to deaden some of the impact of what he had to say.  Phone line?  My hands remembered the sensation of pinching a quarter inch of plastic and rubber drawn tight as a bowstring across my chest and chin.  “You did crack two ribs though, and somehow you gave yourself a pretty bad concussion and cut your lip wide open.  How’d you do that?”

         “I tripped.”  I groaned.  There was no way I could live this down, ever.  Of course he saved me, it couldn’t have been some stranger, could it?  Figures.

         “We brought you roses,” Kathy began, standing and reaching with both hands towards the table to my right.  She held up a glass vase with two dozen scarlet beauties like a prize.  She brought them closer to me and I touched the velvety petals gently with my fingertips, then leaned in just enough to inhale their fragrance deep into my lungs before letting my head rest on the pillow again.  I rubbed the edge of one red petal between my finger and my thumb and despite my lip, I gave her my best smile. She put the roses back and leaned over, gently hugging me.  Something in the hug held some of the genuine love I’d missed for so long and a tenderness I’d only ever seen her show Rick.  Over her shoulder I could see Joshua leaning against his dad’s leg, who was absently playing with Josh’s curls.  I hugged her back, sudden and fierce, but when I said thank you, I was looking at Rick.  Thank you.