A Changed World

A Changed World

         People are still talking about it, wondering what caused the change.  No one knows but me...and I’m not telling.  It’s been twenty years now, and things are really better in the world.  If I told what I knew, well, let’s just say that I don’t want everything to go back like it was.

         It started on a cool spring morning.  I was lying in my bed, too full of pain to even turn over, listening to the sounds of my husband retching in the bathroom.  Normally I would have been at the door asking what was wrong and what could I do for him, but this was another of those ‘morning-after’ days.  The morning-after one of his binges, the morning-after a beating that had me too bruised to even roll over, much less clamber out of the bed to fix his morning bacon, eggs, toast and coffee.  So I lay there and listened to the sounds echoing out from the bathroom, my own stomach roiling, trying to get up the courage to move.

         The toilet flushed, and I knew I had to move.  So I pulled my robe on, gingerly walked into the kitchen and fixed his breakfast.  When Jake finally stumbled in, he took one look at the plate and ran back to the bathroom, his face turning a funny shade of green.  This must be serious!  I’d never seen Jake refuse food in our seven years of marriage.  I tapped on the bathroom door and asked if I should call the doctor. 

         Later that afternoon, sitting in the waiting room, I was surprised to see how many couples were there, the women looking fine, and the men taking turns looking queasy and heading out to the Men’s room.  I wondered why none of the women were sick, too.  While I sat in the waiting room, I let my mind drift back to one of my more recent 'corrections', about seven weeks ago.  Jake had come home, about 3 a.m., reeling.  He was furious over losing at poker.  I didn’t know how much he’d lost, only that we couldn’t afford it.  Afterwards, I’d pulled myself into the downstairs bath and cleaned myself up, then I sank to the tile floor and cried...but quietly.  I didn’t want to disturb Jake.

         After I washed my face I went into the dining room and sat at the table.  Things were as bad as Granny Evans had said they would be; she hadn’t wanted me to marry Jake.  She’d said he was a “bad’un.”  Well, Granny had been right.  I wished I could tell her, but she’d died right after the wedding.  I had nothing to remember her now, except that small carved box she’d given me after I got back from my honeymoon.  Suddenly, I needed to feel close to her.  Granny had loved me like no one else.  I crept down to the basement, walked around to the back wall and pulled down the box.  Opening it, for the fist time since she’d given it to me, I pulled out a letter and opened it:

         Dear Jamie:

              I’m leaving this box to you because I’m afraid you will need it. 
         Inside the box you’ll find a device with a switch.  My great-grandfather
         was an inventor, and his wife worked closely with him.  The device was hers. 
         It has been handed down through the generations with instructions to use it
         only as a last resort, because it will change the world forever.  This is a
         great responsibility, so use it wisely.

         Love,

         Granny

         I couldn’t stand any more...I felt that it was time for my world to change.  I opened the box and flipped the switch.  Nothing happened.  I laughed, a little bitterly, at myself and silently crept back upstairs and into my bedroom.  Unfortunately, Jake felt me sliding into the bed and woke up.  I shuddered, not wanting to remember the rest of that night.  Just then, the nurse called for Jake to come back, and we stood up and followed her.

* * * * *

         That was all a long time ago, and the world is so different now.  I bless my great-great-grandmother and her invention every day, and wish that she had flipped the switch herself.  So many wars that would have been avoided, so many deaths that wouldn’t have happened...if the women of the world had been in charge like we were now.

         The nurse came to the door and called for me to follow her...it was time.  I hurried to put on one of those crinkly gowns and those funny paper booties that go over your shoes.  That done, I followed her into the delivery room, just in time to hold my son’s hand while he gave birth to his first...and my first grandchild.  He’ll make a wonderful mother.






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