Life on the Blackboards

Life on the Blackboards

         “Jack?” Holly asked the answering machine. “I know you are listening to my voice as I listen to yours. I am uneasily getting used to this. You know that feeling of unwilling acceptance. Last night I slept in the tub with the water to my chin. I know how that bothered you. I would disappear from your arms and immerse myself in the steaming bath. Are you well? It was my first thought, but I do not know why I did not ask. I do miss you. Has the garden become your home? I still see you in the shade, trying to blend yourself to it. When you could not win, you stormed inside and drank iced tea. Mostly, I miss the simplicity of your actions.” Chime.

         Holly and Jack had been married for nine years. They lived in a tiny white house with dark blue shutters. Holly dedicated her life to painting; and Jack dedicated his life to graphic design. Both were free spirits, good-natured, and tended to sing instead of speak when moods were best.

         Neither fought face-to-face, voice-to-voice. Each went to his respectable room for just that occasion and wrote on the blackboards what was wandering around, stirring up trouble. When this was done, Holly and Jack switched rooms and addressed the problem until it was no more.

         One of these times did separate Jack and Holly. While walking through the park Holly saw a little boy of two chasing a brilliant yellow butterfly across the grass. Inside Holly quivered, knowing what was missing. Her eyes followed that child’s every movement. His velvety black hair flowed so easily. At the fault of instinct, Holly yearned to lift the boy into the air then bring him into her arms. Turning from the toddler, Holly walked back home to leave a message on the blackboard.

         Two years passed after this time without Holly becoming pregnant. It became clear that it was near impossible for her to conceive. Her blackboard became adorned with tears of chalk. To this, Jack wrote that there are other ways and no one is at fault. The next day a yellow smile was drawn on Holly’s board.

         Three years of marriage preceded Holly’s realization. Each lived on the newness of being together. Holly painted all day while Jack was at work. Her paintings sold almost as soon as they were finished. Three years of a couple’s happiness led to Holly’s wanting to be a mother.

         Holly and Jack became pregnant after four years of failed attempts. The discovery felt strange to both in a completeness sense. When the time came, the baby was stillborn. Over the next two years, Holly and Jack became numb. Both would sometimes disappear for days at a time. The blackboards rarely had chalk across them. Words did not pass their lips to one another. Eventually, in their ninth year of marriage, Holly parted Jack and moved into a studio apartment on the other side of town. She said the house was a reminder of the thing she and Jack could not have.

         “Hello Holly. Hope you are okay. I am fine. How is the apartment? I am sorry for not calling sooner. I have been in the garden as you said. It is very quiet here alone. I see why you slept in the tub. There you could hear every breath, every ounce of movement. I keep the music louder these days. Maybe old man Karth will try to aim his rifle my way. So what if I am trying to make you laugh? Maybe we both need it now more than ever. Are we going to be okay?” Chime.

         “Good morning Jack. I am okay. Do not worry. I am not sure at all. We cannot even look each other in the eye. We do not even try. I do not know what it will bring. You keep the music loud to block the words and thoughts. You are not the only one. I have painted a mural on one of the main walls. I should send you a picture. Do you still use the blackboard, or have you abandoned all kinds of expression? I cannot do this Jack.” Chime.

         “You are running again. It is not that I did not expect it. I am not condemning you for it. I worry about you. I wish you had not moved. This place is so empty. I hate it. I guess you left because you hated it too, but in a different way. We both wanted a child, you know. I tried to be there for you, but I failed. You know I need reasons for things, but I cannot blame anyone. No one deserves it. Life is as you said. Too bad it cannot be like the blackboards...” Chime.

         “I know it is very late, Jack, but it is now that I feel like talking. I finished a painting of a woman I met in the park. She is a beautiful Korean woman with the darkest, most mesmerizing eyes. I had been taking pictures and caught her on film. It reminds me of this old man I saw in New Orleans. He sat in the middle of a street, guitar case open for tips, and played the blues. It would be amazing to live like that. So simple...Then it is easy to remember the good times. I had always been afraid to have children because I did not want to fail at the thing that is supposed to come naturally. You know I hate losing people close to me. Too many...Then I lost our child. Our baby boy...You did not fail me, Jack. I failed me.” Chime.

         “I am glad to hear that you are painting, Holly. If I am not working, I am playing guitar. It helps me get through the crap. You have never failed at anything in your life. I do not know how you can even think that. Hell, Holly...I want to hold you again. You cannot possibly be fine living alone with these memories breathing down your neck. You had no control over your pregnancy. We could not have done anything to change what happened. You need time to get through this, but why can’t I be there for you?” Chime.

         “Next time you call, Jack, please play my song.” Chime.

         “Before I play this I just want to say that I love you and please come home...” Chime.

         “Beautiful, Jack. Tape it sometime. I always fall asleep. It lulls me so...” Chime.

         “Holly? Honey? I cannot take the fact that we are pretending nothing exists. We can continue to ramble on and not think about who we are talking to, but you will only put yourself farther away. I cannot do this alone.” Jack cried out his frustration, love, and worry. Chime.

         “Jack, how did one thing tear me apart? Jack, I wake up at night crying out to you. I wake up alone, without you by choice. If I go home, I am afraid one day I will not wake up to you. You will be gone too.” Chime.

         “Though this is predictable, I would never leave you. Nothing could take me away from you, Holly. You are trying to cope with something I cannot compare with. Heal yourself then worry about me.” Chime.

         “Women dress themselves in such shiny, tawdry things and I know why. People pay their attention to the baubles and imagine the woman’s life, which must be as rich as the fantastic costume jewelry hanging on her body.” Chime.

         “They are hiding just like you, Holly.” Chime.

         Holly walks through the park again, stepping lightly. The grass has feelings too, she thinks. Her straight black hair twirls in the breeze. She has imagined trillions of times the kind of mother she would be--the things she would say to their little boy, the games they would play. She has not phoned Jack in weeks. She hopes he does not worry. The man worries much too much. Tulips surround a stone fountain in a confetti nature. Holly sits at the tulips’ side reluctantly, as if permission has not been granted yet.

         “I can always remember that we did have a son. Though he did not live after birth, we still had a son. I believe I have accepted this, Jack. I truly do. I cannot dwell on the fact that we will never have another. I still have you. That was enough at the beginning and it will be enough until the end. I have stopped running. We will be okay. I smile when I say that. One memory I can recall our son fondly by is when I saw that boy in the park who has that same spark in his toddler eyes as you when we learned I was pregnant. I remember that boy so well and it makes me happy. It is time for me to come home. I love you, Jack. Never lose that spark in your eyes because nobody sparkles like you.” Chime.