by Cheryl Reid
We spent the day playing in the warm water. Eli could not swim, so I held him close and pulled him like a motorboat. We bounced and splashed, and he adored my attention. Marina, whom I had taught to float and kick, had Gus tossing her in the air so that she could fly like a bird. She bobbed up, the water dripping from her thick eyelashes, kicked back to him, and begged, “Again, again.”
He threw her a hundred times, and a hundred times I said, “Be careful. Not so high.” She must have tired of my nagging, because she soon contented herself humming and floating on her back near me in the shallows. I was proud of her, such a big girl and floating on her own, her arms wide and her legs long. I gave her a lesson, how to use her arms to move through the water. She fluttered around and then floated on her back, singing and staring at the blue sky. She was happy and peaceful. Eli watched her too, from his seat on a stepping stone, his feet dipping in the water.
Gus grabbed me in a brotherly way and said, “Your turn now.” I laughed and struggled against him, but he was able to dunk me under. I came up grinning. I caught sight of Papa smiling at us. Eli and Marina stared, mesmerized, as if my brother and I were a movie on the screen. They had never seen me so happy or free as I was playing with my brother. I hoped Marina and Eli would share the good feeling Gus and I had always had.
Gus wrestled me under again, and this time when I came up, the shoulder of the shirt fell aside. Gus looked at the dark blue circle on my shoulder. He looked away, probably uncertain how I got it, embarrassed to mention it. I pulled the shirt up and started toward the shore.
“Ready for lunch?” I combed my hair with my fingers. Gus and the children followed me toward Papa, where he had begun to lay out our food. As my leg emerged from the water, before I could grab a towel to wrap myself, Gus noticed the bruises. He grabbed me and halted my progress.
“You didn’t get that from a fall.” His voice was raw. “Or that.” He pointed to my shoulder. He was loud, with no regard for the children. “Did Elias do that to you?”
“No.” I motioned to the children. “Be quiet. I fell.”
Marina stared as if she could sense my lie. “She got that because she’s a dumb bunny.” Marina made a silly face to make Gus laugh.
“No, she’s not,” he snapped. “Be respectful of your mother.”
Marina’s eyes widened at his stern tone. She looked as if she might cry.
“You’re lying,” he said to me under his breath. He glared at me and Papa, and then Gus walked off into the woods.
“I’m fine.” I took Marina’s hand. “I fell and got a few bruises, but I’m okay.”
She questioned me with her big green eyes. She pulled away and climbed onto the large, flat boulder where Grandpapa was opening Coke bottles. Eli had his and was sucking it down. Marina nestled against my father and tucked her head into his chest. I put on my dress to cover up my leg.
The boulder was enormous and smooth, warmed from the sun. We ate cold chicken and saved some for Gus, who returned with a subdued temper. Everyone was quiet. Papa cut the watermelon and I watched the children and Gus as they climbed along the low stepping stones. “Be careful of Eli near the water,” I yelled to Gus. He waved his hand in recognition of my voice, but he was no longer joyful or playful with the children.
When they were out of earshot, Papa said, “You will stay with me.”
His words felt like a balm, but moving back home with him would not be so easy. Everyone in town would know that I had left my husband. I had thought of driving to another town and telling only Papa and Gus. That idea was full of loneliness, and I could not bear to face Marina and her anger on my own. She would never accept my leaving her father.
If I took them away, Elias would find us. He would be angry that I had taken his children, and even if his anger wore off, his pride would kick in, and he would want them back home where they belonged. I made excuses. What he had done was not all of who he was. He was a good father and loved his children. His children loved him, and I had begun to waver. I remembered Thea’s challenge to me—would I be strong enough to stay away? My heart felt tight in my chest. My father and brother wanted me safe, but I did not know how to say no to Elias.
On the way home the children sang and played a counting game Marina invented to teach Eli his numbers. Gus sulked, no longer their lighthearted uncle. He stared at the back of my head and I could feel his eyes burning a hole in me.
“I’m okay, Gus.”
“Have you looked in the mirror?”
Marina stopped singing and her eyes bore down on him. She understood his meaning.
Papa held his arm outside of the window to let the air flow over his skin. I looked at the emerald on my finger and wondered what it meant, the good times and the bad.
The sun was a brilliant gold and low on the horizon when we dropped Gus at his house. Lila opened the door and smiled. I heard her tease, “Looks like I missed the fun.” Gus whispered in her ear and the smile dropped from her lips. She stepped onto the porch to come to the car, but Gus grabbed her arm to stop her. She waved goodbye, a frown on her face, and went inside. He would tell her about the marks on my body and I did not want him to.
We pulled into the alley by Papa’s store. Eli had fallen asleep. His head rested on Marina’s lap. “That was a fun day,” I whispered to her.
She scowled, shushed me, and pointed to Eli. She was troubled by the bruises on my leg, my swollen cheek, by what Gus had said. She was smart enough to put all the pieces together. She was angry at Gus for blaming her father, in shock to imagine Elias hurting me, and doubly angry at me for lying.
She looked out the window of the parked car and her face brightened. Before she said the word Daddy, I knew who she was looking at. She bolted out of the car with little care for Eli’s head.
Papa let out a long sigh. “I had a feeling,” he said. He took my hand in his. “Anna, don’t go. Stay here with me.”
The pressure in my chest hurt. No matter what I did, I had to face Elias. “Okay, Papa,” I said, but seeing Elias standing by his car, our little girl in his arms, I was not sure I was strong enough to stay true to my word.
I got out of the car, and Marina babbled, “Mama took us to the warm springs with Uncle Gus, and we had a picnic with Grandpapa.”
“That sounds like a perfect day,” he said. His voice was deep and throaty. He had not shaved and the stubble on his face was thick and dark. “I’m so glad to see you.” He spoke to Marina, but he was looking at me, and goose bumps ran over my arm.
“Mama taught me more swimming,” she said.
Elias put Marina on the ground, but she clung to his leg. “You got a good mama,” he said.
I opened the back door of the car and scooped Eli up.
Elias rushed to my side. “I’ll get him for you.”
“No.” His closeness sent a hot rush through me, but I moved to Papa’s back door. “Marina, come with me.”
“No,” she whined. “I want to see Daddy.”
“Marina.” I heard anger in my voice that was intended for Elias. “Come with me. Now.”
Elias patted Marina on the back. “Go with Mama. Do what she says.”
Marina dragged her feet across the ground, and once I felt her close to me, I hurried up the back stairs. I was short-winded at the top. Eli was heavy, almost too big to be carried. I tucked him into bed. Marina pouted and moaned to punish me. “I want to go with Daddy. I can go and you stay here.” She stomped her foot. “He won’t hurt me.”
I gave her a hard look and pointed my finger in her face. “You go get a bath. Not another word.”
She marched down the hall and slammed the bathroom door.
I went to the windows and eavesdropped on Elias and Papa. My heart pounded in my chest.
“I was wrong,” Elias said. “I drank too much. I don’t know why I did it.” He sounded sincere.
“You did it,” Papa said. “You can’t take it back.”
“I will never do that again.” Elias hung hi
s head. “You have my word, Faris.”
“Your word is nothing to me,” Papa growled. “I never hit my wife.” Papa spit at the ground and left Elias in the backyard. Papa slammed the door and turned the lock.
I watched Elias standing there with his hands in his pockets. He looked up and saw me in the window. I’m sorry, he mouthed. He dug out his keys, slunk into his car, and drove away.
I got into bed with Marina, and she pulled away from me. I touched her cheek and she lifted my hand like a dirty rag and let it go. I turned over and lay on my bruised thigh. I snuggled against Eli and closed my eyes.
The next morning, Marina woke with a cross face and her lips pouting. “I don’t know why we have to stay here. Daddy wants us home.”
All day she scowled. The florist delivered flowers from Elias, and I could only stare at them and set them aside. Marina looked at me as if I had failed a test.
That night Elias knocked on the back door. He wore a tie and a wrinkled shirt. It was six thirty. He’d come from closing the store. He held a jewelry box in his hands. I had put him and his image in jeopardy, and he would not let me go easily.
“Go home,” I said. “I’m not coming with you.”
“I want to see my kids.” He put the jewelry box in my hands. “Can’t I see them?” He took me by the waist and pulled me close to him. He whispered in my ear. “I want to see you too. I want you home.”
My stomach fluttered. He smelled of cloves and coffee, not whiskey. I wanted to rest against him and pretend nothing bad had happened.
“It’s not right,” he said. “Without you home.”
“No, nothing is right,” I agreed. “But you did this, and I can’t pretend you didn’t.”
“Give me another chance.” He touched my cheek. “The bruise is better,” he said, as if he had not been the one to cause it. “Please, let me show you.” His breath, warm and soft, fell against my forehead.
I stepped away from him, because if I had not, I would have gotten in his car and told him to take me home. His eyes were beautiful, bright green. His face strong and angular.
“My mother is at the store with me every day, and she wears me out. I want you there.”
He took the box from me and opened it. Inside was a necklace with a locket. He had placed a photo of Marina and one of Eli in the oval frames. He clasped the necklace around my neck. “I’ll do better.”
I felt myself pulling away from my father’s house, from my anger at Elias, from my own pride. Elias knew the power of telling people what they wanted to hear. He did it at the store to boost sales, he’d done it with my father years before, and again last night. Now he was making promises so I would fall in line.
“People ask where you are. I tell them you are helping Faris.” He looked humble and tired. His greatest talent was shifting gears, from anger to kindness, from calmness to frustration. “It’s true. You’re helping him. But it’s my fault.”
My resolve melted with each word that flowed like honey from his lips, and that night I played his words over in my mind as I lay sleepless beside Marina and Eli.
The next day, Elias called. “Come home. I want to see the children.” His voice was deep and calm.
“No,” I said.
“I miss them.” I could hear his sadness, and I rationalized that yes, he should see his children. He had done nothing to hurt them, and at my invitation, Elias came to dinner.
Papa turned red when I told him he was coming to dinner. “He is a snake, Anna,” he yelled. “Slinking through the grass, working his way to you.” It had been four days since I had left my house and the bruise was a sickly yellow-green.
At dinner, Papa did not touch his food. He sat like a statue with stone eyes fixed on Elias.
Marina bubbled with questions, asking her father if had he missed her while she was on vacation. Who had come into the store that day? Had Grandmother remembered the candy she promised? Finally, she noticed Papa fuming at the end of the table. With a mouth full of green beans, Marina said, “Why are you mad, Grandpapa?”
Papa turned his face to hers. “I’m not.”
“You look mad,” she said.
He placed his hand on top of her head as if he could contain her in that safe place next to him. “I am not mad, little one. I am concerned.”
She raised her eyebrows and returned to her food, chattering to her father about her new pet ducks she’d been feeding on the water, and how if she left a trail of crumbs along the shore and down the path, they might follow her home.
I took the dishes from the table.
Papa said to Elias, “Let’s go outside.”
Marina hung close to me as I washed the plates. The men’s voices carried inside. She could hear them talking.
“What you did is a sin,” said my father.
Elias sighed. “You’re right.”
“I talked to the priest. She can get an annulment.” Papa spoke loudly.
“She won’t do that to the children,” Elias said. “And the Church won’t allow it. You know that. I know that.”
“How can I let her go with you?” Papa paused. “Imagine Marina with bruises on her whole body.” Papa choked on his words.
“I hear you, Faris.” Elias sounded calm and smooth, compared to my father’s emotion. “It won’t happen again.”
“I don’t believe you,” Papa said. “I never believed you.”
“I respect you.” Elias controlled the anger in his voice, but I felt it creeping beneath the surface. “But she’s my wife. They’re my kids. They belong with me.”
Marina grabbed my legs. She could hear everything. “Mama,” she cried. “I want to go home.” Her tears streamed down her face. I wiped her warm cheeks and brushed the dark hair from her forehead.
I felt a knot in my stomach.
“I want to go home,” she bawled.
“I know you do.” I knelt down and took her in my arms. Eli saw Marina getting attention and he began crying too. I touched the necklace Elias had given me.
I heard Papa yelling, “Go home!”
Elias said, “Faris, please understand.”
“No,” Papa barked. “Go. Get out of here.”
“Please, Faris,” Elias pleaded. “Let me say goodbye.”
Papa slammed the door. I heard the bolt lock in place. Papa charged up the back steps. He walked past me and to his bedroom. He shut the door and I could hear his grumbling. I was left alone in the kitchen, my children in hysterics, bawling and begging for their father. Elias started his engine and the lights flashed on the ceiling as he turned his car around in the back field.
The next morning, I awoke with Marina standing over me and staring hard. She watched me dress. She was in her church clothes. It was Sunday, and Papa planned to take the children to Mass to let me have a quiet morning.
“I’m going home now,” Marina said resolutely.
“No,” I said. “You’re going to Mass with Grandpapa.” I looked at my watch. It was eight, and Mass started in an hour.
“I’m tired of your vacation, and I’m going home.” In her hand, she held a pillowcase of her possessions. I threw on a blouse and skirt as she walked out of the room, scampered down the steps and out the back door.
When her feet hit the green field she started running. I grabbed my shoes and slipped into them. “Marina, stop!” I yelled, but she did not relent.
Her nimble body and long legs moved gracefully across the field toward the path. Her long black hair bounced and flipped. She stayed in my sights but I never got close. She had youth and slightness on her side. “Marina,” I called after her. She was wondrous to watch, running, never doubting, never looking back. She was fierce in her determination.
She ran beneath the bridges and I had to walk up the small hill behind the courthouse. She flew off the trail at the point where our yard met the water. She flung herself past the garden and up the back stairs of our house. I stopped in our backyard to catch my breath. I had no idea I could still run so far
, but I had not caught her, that beautiful sprite who tested me in every way, and now she was inside, out of reach.
From the vegetable garden, Elias said, “Good morning.” He held the small clippers in his hand. He was trimming back the suckers on the tomato plants. He smiled at me and tipped his straw-brimmed hat. A sheen of sweat glistened across his forehead. “She decided to come home?” A chuckle ran beneath his words. Outside, in the morning light, he was not the man who had attacked me. He was their father, the friendly shopkeeper, the young man who had once courted me.
“She’s a determined child,” I said.
“I’m glad.” He threw the handful of vines aside. He took several long strides toward me, and I felt nothing of the fear I had felt in my room that night. “You are here too. That’s good.”
My resolve slipped as he walked two steps closer and then got down on his knees and held his arms out. He looked at me in the way I had always wanted him to, as if he desired me, as if he needed me. I imagined he had looked at Zada this way.
“Get up.” I turned to go. That was the only way I could be strong, to walk away from him, but he grabbed my wrist in his hand.
“Please forgive me,” he said. “I made the worst mistake of my life.” He pulled me close and placed his damp forehead against my stomach. “I was wrong. I won’t touch a drink again.”
I wanted to believe it was the drink that had made him cruel. I wanted to quiet the thoughts that he hated his marriage to me, because I was not enough.
“I’ve been to confession. I’ll do my penance.” He looked up at me with his green eyes and his dark brows arched high on his forehead. “It’s over, what I did.” I wondered if he meant seeing Zada or hitting me or both.
“Why don’t you take Marina to Mass, and then bring her back to Papa’s after?”
He pulled himself to standing and let go of me.
I headed toward the path to walk back to Papa’s.
“Please, don’t go,” he said. “We have this life. We have the store and the children.” He seemed near tears. “I was wrong.” He sounded true. He was convincing.