Sounds surround and
envelope. Bells toll in the gray dawn of a dreary new day, flies
complain at the window, dying in the cool embrace of winter. In a
church nursery, a TV plays cartoons in the background,
two toddlers babble at one another as their mothers do some babbling
of their own.
“I'm
telling you, Amanda, he's not the same. Ever since he came home from
Iraq he spends most of his time staring off into space.”
“Casey,
he's only been back a few weeks, give him some time to adjust.”
“I
know, I thought the same thing. But he just spends so much time
brooding. And he refuses to see a doctor. Says he's working it all
out on his own. Which is fine, but I don't see anything getting
worked out. It would make me feel a lot better if he would at lease
talk to me, tell me what's going on while he's spaced out. I just
can't take the silence anymore.”
“What
are you gonna do, Casey? I know you're not gonna leave the house your
parents gave you. You can't kick him out, he just got back from war.”
“Oh,
I know, Amanda. How would that make me look? Like the worst wife
ever! But I'm starting to wonder if it's worth caring about. Let
people judge me, I don't care what they think of me. Living like
this, worse, making Dylan live like this, is not worth saving face.
I'm just at that point when I wonder just how much well being is
being sacrificed for pride. Is that really the only reason I'm
holding on anymore? If it is, it's not worth it! I'm telling you, I
can't do this forever.”
“You
won't have to, Casey. He's not gonna be like this forever. Why, just
last night he said he's not had a nightmare in almost a week. He's
already getting better.”
“What?
Last night he was having a drink at Ace's with some war buddies and
then he came straight home. When did he talk to you?”
Silence
is a most disquieting sound.
Unpublished © 2013 JP
West
