Stan Kitchen

 

 

                                                                                        

 

                                                                             The Suffering

 

                                                         

 

 

Thursday- 6:30 P.M.

 

 

           Lily opened her eyes for the last time. The world around her was a blur and seemed to be spinning out of control. She blinked rapidly and tried to make sense of the reality she had awaken to. As her world slowed and pulled itself together, she raised her eyes to the sun, which hung low in the evening sky. It had moved considerably since last she had seen it. She scanned her surroundings. “What?” she asked herself, puzzled by the fact she was lying in Ray Webbs front yard. “I don’t remember lying down to sleep here, why would I do that?” A burning mixture of fear and desperation surged through her, as she tried to move her body but could not. Anxiety began to smother her in waves. Her mind recoiled in horror as reality slammed into it. She could not feel herself and no amount of effort could produce any movement. Lily screamed out in terror, she begged and pleaded with her frozen body but yet it did not budge. “No! This can’t be happening!” She tried again to move but still her body resisted her advance. “No! Please move Lily, please move!” Her cries of terror fell upon no living ears, nor did they fall upon her own. The ability to hear and to speak had been deprived of her. Sickness, like a thief, had stolen those gifts from her when she was only a few months old. Sight and inner monologue were the only world she had ever known. On the outside her body lay still and quiet. Inside her screams were deafening, on the inside she fought to free herself from a prison of paralysis. A shroud of panic pulled itself over her. A river of fear began to rise inside her and she felt herself beginning to drown. “Ok, ok, calm down Lily, just calm down and breathe.” Slowly she drew air in through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. “Think Lily, think, what happened to you? How did you end up like this?” Her heart began to slow, the pressure of panic dissipated with each steady breath. She let her calming mind wonder, desperately searching it for the missing piece of her puzzle. The events of her day began to seep out of the darkened corners of her brain and poured back into her memory. She remembered eating her breakfast, soon after she remembered walking out into the barn. Slowly the dark fuzzy memory of her long walk on the big road, that stretched out long and straight behind her, revealed itself. Lily gasped. The memory struck her like a lightning bolt, shocking her numb body. She suddenly remembered the large truck coming at her. She remembered the fear and panic that surged through her heart as she realized it was going to hit her. She grew hysteric reliving the moment in her mind. Her confusion dried up like a puddle in the summer sun but her eyes however became moist. She felt the tears encase her eyes in a watery bubble. Lilly blinked, the bubbles burst and a cathartic outpour of tangible sadness rolled down her bleeding face. The streams of tears quickly turned to raging rivers as an avalanche of emotions tore through her. She did not want to accept her reality. She pushed and fought against it, she cried and screamed at the fact she was stuck inside a cruel and unforgiving nightmare, from which she would never wake. “Wake up Lily, please wake up! Help! Please someone help me!”

 

          The sun danced behind the trees and Lily lifted her baby blues up to watch it. Shadows of the evening stretched across the yard like fingers to steal the last remnants of the day. The green flashes of lightning bugs filled the yard before her and a smile etched its way across her dying face. Memories of catching the luminous insects as a child slipped in and out of her fading mind. Other memories crept in as well. She watched herself grow up all over again. All the best moments of her young life drifted into obscurity, cloaked in bittersweet sorrow. Lily’s life was leaving her one memory at a time, and she begged for it not to go. She wanted to scream, she wanted to shout to the world “ This isn’t fair! Why did this happen! I’m so young, I barely lived!” Death slipped his arms around her and soon after she began to feel safe and warm. She closed her tired eyes and let him pull her deep into the dark, where the candle light of life is forever extinguished.

 

          Ray Webb sat comfortably in the swing that sat on his back porch, watching his grandchildren chase after lightning bugs in the yard. An army of cicada screamed into the night air as he reflected on his life. Thirteen years had passed since he had last heard their song and he wondered where all that time had gone. Ray lifted a glass of iced tea to his lips and took a drink. He lowered the glass of liquid heaven and shifted his eyes to the night sky. The stars above him littered the darkness like diamonds on a black canvas. The hypnotic sound of insects rang in his aged ears as he marveled the cosmos. His life was good, he felt lucky to be alive and well. He only wondered if he would be able to say the same in another thirteen years - when the cicada came out from there hiding spots to sing another song for the world. Cubes of ice danced and clinked together in his glass as he sat it on the wooden table beside his swing. He turned his attention back to his grandkids and proudly watched them, unaware that a dear friend lay dead near his mailbox.

 

         

Friday- 7:00 A.M.

 

           The strong smell of coffee and bacon found its way into Ray’s nose. Gently the familiar aroma coxed him away from the strong gasp of sleep. He opened his heavy eyes, yawned and stretched his old body. After a small struggle to rise up, he pulled himself to the side of the bed and planted his feet on the ground. He had greeted every morning of his married life in the same manner. It seemed to him that the smell of bacon and the sounds of Eva stirring around in the kitchen would be the only alarm clock he would ever need. A moan escaped his throat as he lifted his sixty- eight year old body to its feet. His bones and joints were stiff and sore. Casualties from decades of hard farm work. The shrapnel in his leg hadn’t stopped hurting since he’d received it in nineteen sixty-seven. Ray rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and shuffled across the hardwood floor to the bathroom. Negative thoughts passed through his mind as he dragged a sharp blade through a jumbled mess of facial hair and shaving cream. His mortality was the main focal point of his sentience lately. Ray felt he was not the same man he was ten years previous and could feel himself slipping further into a man he did not want to become. “Hell you ain’t the man you were four years ago.” He said to the old man staring back at him from the mirror. The mortality of all that were near and dear to him weighed heavy on his heart. None weighed heavier than his youngest son Nick, who was thirty five now and a sergeant in the army. He was proud of his baby boy but his heart broke the day Nick left for Afghanistan. Ray witnessed endless suffering and violent atrocities in Vietnam. Watching that plane of young men leave for war had almost unraveled him. Faces came back to him, faces he had blocked from his mind for some time. He fought back tears that morning in the air port as his dead friends came to him like ghost in a nightmare. Their faces mutilated and full of holes, their arms, legs and genitalia stripped from the young bodies that carried them. He was sure Nick would see the same. He reached into the shower and turned on the water. Slowly the icy stream that rained down from the showers head turned warm and soon after a steamy hot. He stepped in and tried to wash the negative thoughts from his mind along with the filth from his body. Memories of his boys raced through his mind in slide show fashion. The boys were young and wide eyed. They followed him everywhere then, eager to learn all the secrets of life that he was willing to teach them. He pictured himself slinging them up into the back of his old work truck. They laugh and squeal, looking up at him in awe. These were the days before his boys knew he was just a man; these were the days he had wished would never end.

 

          Eva sat at the kitchen table blowing steam from her coffee mug as it slowly floated out into the air. She stared adoringly at the crude drawings that hung proudly on her refrigerator. She smiled and her heart filled with joy as she thought about the two precious children who had drawn them. She took a sip of coffee and turned her head to the large window beside her. It was another bright and sunny day but yet a dark cloud hung over her. At the end of this beautiful day her grandchildren would be going home. The week had flown by, like it always seems to do when you are enjoying it. After today it would just be her and Ray again. Not that she disliked being with her husband of fifty years, she just felt that, after selling half the farm and retiring, life had gotten a little stale. Having two children running around the house all week made her feel needed again; something a mother never outgrows. Eva missed her boys terribly. Her oldest, Roger, she saw on occasion. He lived close to home but his job and family kept him away. She would see him at the end of the day when he came to pick up the kids but weeks would pass before she would see him again. Nick she had only seen twice in two years. The army had stolen her baby boy from her years ago and it broke her heart despite the fact she was bursting with pride. She cried for Nick often and prayed for him everyday. The day he left for Afghanistan Eva felt emotionally hijacked. She assumed any mother with a son at war is doomed to have her heart held hostage. A mothers heart never stops caring for its’ children, no matter what the age of the child or the circumstance in which the child finds itself.

 

          Nick was strong like his father but like his father she feared he may also carry the casualties of war with him forever- if and when he returned. Ray didn’t scream in his sleep anymore. Those loud cries for help had dissipated to low mumbles and whimpers over the years. The name Davy still, on occasion, escaped his quivering mouth followed by the short shout of medic. Eva never met Davy, she never saw a picture of him, nor did Ray ever discuss Davy with her. When it came to Vietnam Ray didn’t discuss anything, nonetheless she and Davy had become old friends. Lately she found herself crying for Davys mother. Eva was, after all, a mother herself with a son at war. She couldn’t help but feel pain for the mother and son for whom she had no faces to identify. She feared that Nick may one day become some other woman’s Davy and she the unknown mother. The sounds of Ray walking down the hall snapped Eva out of her daze. She wiped her moist eyes and put a smile back on her face. “Good mornin’ beautiful.” said Ray. She sat her coffee mug back to the table and smiled up at him. “Good morning my handsome man.” Ray raised an eye brow upward as he fastened his overalls. “You need your eyes checked woman.” Ray hooked the last strap to his overalls and laughed as he plopped down in the chair across the table from her. “ My eyes are just fine mister.” she said, standing up and walking to the stove. “ You want coffee or juice with your eggs baby?” “Just coffee” said Ray. Eva poured some coffee and sat it down in front of him along with his eggs and bacon. “ What’s this?” grumbled Ray.  “It’s turkey bacon, my first attempt to start eating healthier. It’s good, just try it.” Ray picked up a piece of the bacon and wiggled it in the air. “I hope so, you know I need my bacon in the mornin’ or im good for nothin’ all day.” Eva refilled her mug and walked back to her chair. As she passed by him Ray reached out and slapped her backside. “Ray!” Eva shouted. “I can’t help it darlin’ you know how much I love that silk gown.” She quickly sat down in her chair. Her frown reversed its self to match the devilish grin that her husband now wore. “Well we’ve got little eyes in the house you know, guess I’ll have to go put on my old ugly gown so you will behave yourself.” “O, I’ll behave but tonight you wont have anyone around to protect you from my advances.” Eva lifted her mug to her face to hide her ever-growing smile. “Speaking of little eyes, I guess I’ll go wake up the kids.” said Eva. “Awe…. Just let ‘em sleep in for a while…..won’t hurt nothin’ babe.” “Their food will get cold.” “Aaaah….. they’ll just want them frozen waffles again anyway.” said Ray. Eva laughed. “Yeah I guess your right. They love those things.” Ray chewed his eggs and sipped his coffee. “ Yep….. that they do. I sure am gonna’ miss them boogers when their gone.” “Me to, this week has been such a blessing. Katie and Cameron are just at that fun age, ya know. A few more years and they probably won’t want to stay with us for a night, let alone a week.” Ray swallowed a bite of food and looked his wife reassuringly in the eyes. “Now mamaw, don’t go makin’ yourself feel bad. They’ll still come and stay with us, and we’ll have fun no matter what their age.” “I know, I just wish they would stay little forever…..is that so bad?”            

“ No….not at all. I guess I know what you mean, but unfortunately everything changes.” she smiled and watched as Ray shoveled the last bite of eggs into his mouth. He dropped his fork and it clinked against his plate. He turned his head to look out the kitchen window. Eva’s eyes followed her mans movements. She watched as his eyes scanned the sunlit yard, she watched the muscles in his jaw working to grind up the food in his mouth. He was handsome after all the years that had passed them by and she felt lucky to still have him. “ So?” Ray turned his head back to his wife, still chewing. “So what?” “Did you like the turkey bacon?” Ray pulled a paper towel to his lips and wiped off his smiling mouth. “ It weren’t horrible, but I think turkeys should leave the bacon makin up to the piggies.” Eva laughed and sipped her coffee. “ So what’s on my man’s agenda today?” Ray stood up and pushed in his chair. “Guess I’ll go out and feed the dogs. Cameron wants to walk back up to the pond to do some more fishin’ guess I’ll piddle around in the garage and get the gear ready.” He reached down to grab his dirty dishes. “ I’ll get that honey.” Said Eva. “ Will you do me a favor and bring in the morning paper before you start your piddiln?” Ray stepped over, lowered his head and kissed his wife’s waiting lips. “As I wish or as you wish ….what ever that guy in that movie the kids have been watchin’ all week says.” She giggled as he grabbed his ball cap and boots. “It’s as you wish farmboy.” He pulled his ball cap snug over his head, gave her a wink and a smile, then disappeared into the garage with boots in hand. She turned her attention back to the beautiful view she called a front yard. The scuffs of little feet on the kitchen tile drew her eyes away before they had time to notice the dead body that lay near the mailbox.

 

          Ray strolled through the garage. The tune he whistled echoed through the wide concrete room. A smile interrupted his symphony when he laid out the fishing gear. A feeling of pride washed over him as he thought about all the fish he and Cameron had slain over the week. Ray was certain that Roger was going to be proud as well, when he found out that Cam had taken to fishing the way he had at that age. Ray sat the gear by the door and stepped out into the yard. From the pin next to the barn his dogs pleaded to be set free from their nightly prison. “ Hush boys! I’ll let you out dreckly.” he turned the corner of the house and headed toward the mail box with his hands in his pockets. His fingers fiddled with the folding knife and loose change that dwelled in his right one. The wind that passed forcefully through his puckered lips carried the tune of a song with no name. He lifted his head, his eyes grew wide when they saw the body laying still on the dewy ground. He froze in his tracks. His whistling stopped mid pitch. Between Vietnam and life on the farm he knew a dead body when he saw one. His heart jumped into his throat and he found it difficult to swallow it back down. Slowly and despairingly he continued his walk to the mailbox. He stood over Lily’s stiff, lifeless body with tear filled eyes. Ray shook his head and knelt down on one knee beside her. He reached out and stroked the top of her head between her ears, the way she had always loved for him to do. “ Lily o girl I’m so sorry.” He wiped a tear from his eye. He had never been much of a cat lover but somehow this little def stray had managed to worm her way deep into his heart which now felt broken and heavy. Ray was not alone. Katie also had really taken to Lily. Over the past week the two of them had become inseparable, like kindred spirits who had finally found one another. Each of them following the other anywhere and everywhere the other might go. Ray’s insides quivered with the thought of Katie’s heart breaking. “ Lets get you out of here girl before she comes out to find you.” He pushed himself back to his feet and rushed to the garage. After several minutes of frantic searching he found an old, paper grocery sack crammed full of rags. He robbed the sack of all but one rag and headed back to the mailbox. He resumed his kneeling position beside Lily. With tender, loving hands he scooped up her stiff body and wrapped her up in the rag. Gently he lowered her down into the paper bag. “ Lets give you a proper burial girl.” He rolled up the end of the sack and stood up. As he walked back toward the direction of the barn, to his horror, Katie appeared from the corner of the garage. Her red, curly locks bouncing with each happy step she took, her smile stretching from freckled cheek to freckled cheek. Rays heart skipped a beat, his stomach churned and he fought to keep his breakfast from reversing itself. He forced a smile across his somber face. Inside his mind raced. He struggled to find the right words. But what words, if any, can explain the inevitable end that awaits all living things. What words can cushion the crushing blow of death. What word can stop the suffering caused by loss.