Ananda. Scott Zarcinas

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СКАЧАТЬ of his face as he finished the last spoonfuls of his cereal. Angie seated herself at the table with her usual cup of coffee, paying no particular heed to him. She seemed neither surprised nor pleased that he had risen before her. She just stared outside through the windowpane sliding door, interested only in gauging the weather. He followed her gaze, glancing quickly outside. Several fluffy cumulus clouds were rising with the sun over the hills in the east. There was nothing of interest for him, just the same shit, different day, so he turned back to Angie with the intent of confronting her with the news of his earlier discovery in the bathroom.

       Angie didn’t give him the chance to speak. “Don’t forget we have the clinic appointment today,” she said, taking a sip of coffee. “Five o’clock.”

       “You know I don’t like hospitals,” he said, and then, almost as an afterthought, added, “Miss Schmetterling had a fit when I asked her if I could miss tonight’s teachers’ meeting. Are you sure I have to go?”

       Angie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Yes. We’ve discussed this all before and we don’t need to go through it again. You’re my husband and we’re in this together. If you don’t meet me at the hospital, it’ll be a total dereliction of your duty.”

       “Christ!” he said. “This is emotional blackmail.”

       “Don’t you blaspheme!” she said, and slapped her palms down onto the tabletop. Tears formed in her eyes. She pushed herself up from her chair, knocking the underneath of the table with her upper thighs, and before Michael knew what was happening she was out of the kitchen and crying. He heard her footsteps hurry down the hall to the front bedroom.

       He threw his hands in the air. “Christ!” he said, pushing the chair back and standing up. “Angie, I’m sorry,” he yelled after her. “I didn’t mean it, you know that.” He waited for her reply. There was just the tic-toc of the grandfather clock. “Angel, come on!”

       This was getting ridiculous, he thought. This whole thing was getting out of control. He couldn’t say anything anymore without her running off crying. Staring at the ceiling, not knowing what to do, he absently ran a hand through his hair. He just wished the whole situation would go away and they could get back with their lives, the way they used to be when they just got married, happy and carefree, like when they used to find the time to go for dinner at their favorite restaurant, Piccolo Diavolo, and spend a romantic night together, or like when they used to go away on weekends to his father’s holiday house in Serena and relax and enjoy each other’s company. That was all he wanted, nothing more. He just wanted the marriage to get back to normal.

       He followed her out of the kitchen, and as he walked around the dividing bench he glanced at the refrigerator’s only two magnets, yet more reminders of Angie’s deceased parents: JESUS LOVES YOU! and GOD GIVES WHAT’S RIGHT– NOT WHAT’S LEFT!

       “Yeah, sure,” he harrumphed, glaring at them. “God gives you nothing but shit and then complains that no one is grateful for it.”

       He wandered slowly up the hallway. Deciding to let Angie keep her distance, he stopped before entering the front bedroom and leant against the doorframe. The curtains to his immediate left had been pulled open and light was streaming through the window, forming a bright square on the quilt in the center of the room. It was the only room in the house they had attempted to renovate. Angie, he recalled, had made all the decorating decisions. The result: purple. The whole room was one shade of it or another – lilac, mauve, lavender, violet – the walls, the linen, the curtains, the quilt, all were purple, even the bedside alarm clock and lamp. The only things not were the bare wooden floorboards (Angie had insisted they rip up the horrid blue carpet, at least in this room), the sliding mirrored doors of the built-in closet, and the oak dressing table at which Angie was now perched.

       With her back to him, she was sitting on a stool directly ahead, peering into the dressing table mirror and rubbing foundation makeup into her cheeks and forehead. A cosmetic case sat open like a mini painter’s satchel to her left. It was brimming with assorted lipsticks, eyeliners, brushes, creams, mascaras, and lots of things Michael didn’t recognize. In the reflection he could see her face. She was trying her best not to cry and the whites of her eyes were streaked with red. He felt a tug of guilt and apologized for what he had said in the kitchen.

       Angie sniffed and applied a touch of moon dust coloring to her cheeks. Then she put the mascara brush down and began touching up her eyes with black eyeliner. She was deliberately silent while she worked, making him wait for her reply, and only after a minute or two did she turn around and face him. “If you’re truly sorry,” she said, holding his gaze, “you’ll be in the lobby of the hospital before five o’clock this evening.”

       She turned back to the dressing table mirror and removed the lid to a tube of red lipstick. As she slid the lipstick across her lips, they were transformed into soft, alluring petals and Michael suddenly understood why bees were so attracted to flowers. After a few seconds, she puckered and smacked her lips gently together, then stood the lipstick on its end next to the cosmetic case and turned around.

       “How do I look?” she asked.

       Michael was about to reply when suddenly, as she stood up, Angie doubled over as if she had just been delivered a punch to the stomach. Her face was contorted – mouth gaping, eyes wide – and despite the recently applied makeup her skin had turned ghastly pale. He stared at her, momentarily immobilized with fright. Angie groped for the dressing table, the other hand clutching her lower belly. The tube of lipstick was knocked onto its side and it rolled off the table onto the floor next to her briefcase. Angie didn’t seem to notice. She wobbled precariously, teetering like a toddler just learning to walk. Without a second to spare, Michael broke free from the paralysis of his initial shock and rushed over, catching her just before she fell.

       Angie didn’t speak. She didn’t seem able. She just leant into his embrace and grabbed hold of his arm. He was horrified. He didn’t know what to do or how to help, other than just hold on to her and hope the pain would quickly pass. His mind was racing. What was happening? Did he need to rush her to the hospital? Should he call an ambulance?

       After a minute, her wrestle-like grip began to relax. To his relief, she was soon standing erect once again with the color returned to her face. He stood by as she took several deep breaths and pursed her lips, blowing the air slowly out of her lungs. When she finally met his eyes he could tell the worst was over. “Are you okay?” he asked.

       She nodded, re-gathering her composure. “I’ll be all right,” she said, after a moment. “Don’t worry, I get it all the time.” But her attempt to play down the seriousness of what had just happened only made Michael worry even more. She seemed to sense his unease. “It goes away by itself. It’s just a little stomach cramp, that’s all.”

       Her smile was weak and unconvincing, and he knew by her reticence that she was withholding the truth. She patted his arm in a poor attempt to allay his concerns and reached for her briefcase beneath the dressing table. Before leaving, she kissed him on the lips and reiterated their plans to meet after work. Michael knew he had no choice but to let her go. She left him standing alone in the bedroom, confused and worried.

      LATER THAT DAY, Michael stood motionless at the blackboard with his back to the class. His hand was raised where it had stopped in mid-sentence, a broken piece of white chalk firmly fixed between thumb and forefinger. He had been in a daydream, lost in his own world. He had no idea how long he had been standing that way and was busily trying to figure out how he had managed to misplace his memories and what he had been saying to the class.

       They were obedient СКАЧАТЬ