Riding in the car with the occasional mirror effect created
by lights passing, she watched the nothingness pass by outside her
window. She had witnessed the extreme frailty of womankind and that which
often produced disgust had instead brought compassion. She could not get
the young girl clad in a cheap thin dress thrown over a bikini out of her
mind. It was a sad picture which she had seen again and again.
She was not known for her compassion in these situations, but for her swift, stern remarks about how you just can't make a person your own unless he makes himself your own. You can not demand or produce fidelity in another person. A man must demand and produce fidelity in himself if it is to be there and if not, you're better off with him gone.
Suddenly she was seeing the dark red shirt. Her ex husband had walked in with it on one evening. To her query concerning it's origin, she was told that his secretary bought it for him. She was eternally bothered that she didn't suspect the obvious. She remembered how the woman's demeanor had changed toward her through time. She recalled the questions and sideways glances after the woman had a child that resembled the wrong man. Tonight she asked herself again "Why didn't I at least ask a few more questions?" "Why did I have to make it so easy for him?"
While inside the convenience store, the cashier had made a comment about the girl being wasted and flipping out. The girl had just wandered out the door. The little wretch was standing outside now, pacing, talking to herself, obviously writhing inside. Had her attire not been so 'cheezy' she probably would have not even 'seen' the girl.
In the darkness, she shuddered at the thought and looked again in her mind at the way the girl was dressed. She thought about her own 'invisible' days. She was so threadbare, so serious, so busy making life happen. She remembered flirtatious comments from men she met. She was always shocked and would think to herself, "Why would he say that kind of thing to me. I'm a married woman." She had no clue she was attractive and worthy. She had no clue that there were women who reached back in spite of motherhood or marriage.
The child in the seat behind her observed that the moon was following them. She laughed and remembered having that thought as a child. This same child had earlier observed that people should never say those words to other people.
Terms like "unrefined" "backward" "red-neck" passed through her mind, yet she saw the young girl like a wounded animal needing pity, needing to be held tight and allowed to cry desperately until her wound was soothed. But how could that be done without having your own garments and even your flesh ripped to shreds.
She saw, in the darkness passing by, another young girl in another backwoods town, who, after several times being the last of a line of riders to make it home, began to sneer and look at her in disgust. This other little animal had become wounded, frightened and ready to strike at a moment's notice. Why could she not see and interpret that woman-child's longing gazes toward the man who was then her husband and ask what in the world he thought he was doing?
She had been adjusting their car for the long ride home when the ruckus inside the convenience store grabbed her attention. The cashier had come in front of the counter and was shouting words blocked by the barriers of glass. She looked at her husband and said "That's the girl the cashier was saying was intoxicated when we were in there." A customer was also shouting at the girl as he headed for the door in front of their car.
Her husband replied that it appeared someone would be hauled into jail before the night was over. Then the guy burst out of the convenience store followed by the girl who was hitting him as hard as she could while screaming profanities at him. He kicked the girl away from him as one would kick at an attacking dog, yelled his own profanities and got in the passenger side of the car. Another young woman was in the driver's seat and revved the engine, backing away as the distraught young girl screamed painful insults after them.
She felt her hand on the doorknob. She had burst into the room where this man she had been married to for half her life was planning his new life with the woman he intended to marry once he was able to shake her loose. Her heart had raced as she announced a curse on the woman's younger son and walked out barely able to breathe while the two occupants of the room laughed and went on with their planning. One day they would not laugh. This woman would beg forgiveness while this man would deny that the outcome was more than coincidence.
Staring at the blackness outside her car window, she realized that she had no understanding of who the girl or the guy or even the driver of the car was. She might have been a wanton seeker of manflesh from a local sleaze pit who had lost out to a stronger lure. She might have been the other woman left behind when the guy realized what he was about to throw away. She seemed like a young but worn cast off who had tried to make herself appealing enough to win back the respect and affection she had sold herself to obtain. She considered her own last ditch demeaning effort to reclaim a life that was all she knew so many years ago.
At that moment she wanted to tell the young woman they had left weeping and clenching her fists as she writhed about, that she was worth more than she could imagine. She wanted to tell her to forget what he had taken from her and to forget the willingness with which she had given to him. She wanted to caution her kindly to hold herself in more honor with more reserve and make any man in her future win her heart, her body, her devotion through great effort. She wanted to assure her that she could forgive herself for ever wasting a moment of life on someone who did not cherish everything about her.
A silent tear slipped down the cheek in the darkness. There are things that cannot be said. There are things that will not be heard.
She was not known for her compassion in these situations, but for her swift, stern remarks about how you just can't make a person your own unless he makes himself your own. You can not demand or produce fidelity in another person. A man must demand and produce fidelity in himself if it is to be there and if not, you're better off with him gone.
Suddenly she was seeing the dark red shirt. Her ex husband had walked in with it on one evening. To her query concerning it's origin, she was told that his secretary bought it for him. She was eternally bothered that she didn't suspect the obvious. She remembered how the woman's demeanor had changed toward her through time. She recalled the questions and sideways glances after the woman had a child that resembled the wrong man. Tonight she asked herself again "Why didn't I at least ask a few more questions?" "Why did I have to make it so easy for him?"
While inside the convenience store, the cashier had made a comment about the girl being wasted and flipping out. The girl had just wandered out the door. The little wretch was standing outside now, pacing, talking to herself, obviously writhing inside. Had her attire not been so 'cheezy' she probably would have not even 'seen' the girl.
In the darkness, she shuddered at the thought and looked again in her mind at the way the girl was dressed. She thought about her own 'invisible' days. She was so threadbare, so serious, so busy making life happen. She remembered flirtatious comments from men she met. She was always shocked and would think to herself, "Why would he say that kind of thing to me. I'm a married woman." She had no clue she was attractive and worthy. She had no clue that there were women who reached back in spite of motherhood or marriage.
The child in the seat behind her observed that the moon was following them. She laughed and remembered having that thought as a child. This same child had earlier observed that people should never say those words to other people.
Terms like "unrefined" "backward" "red-neck" passed through her mind, yet she saw the young girl like a wounded animal needing pity, needing to be held tight and allowed to cry desperately until her wound was soothed. But how could that be done without having your own garments and even your flesh ripped to shreds.
She saw, in the darkness passing by, another young girl in another backwoods town, who, after several times being the last of a line of riders to make it home, began to sneer and look at her in disgust. This other little animal had become wounded, frightened and ready to strike at a moment's notice. Why could she not see and interpret that woman-child's longing gazes toward the man who was then her husband and ask what in the world he thought he was doing?
She had been adjusting their car for the long ride home when the ruckus inside the convenience store grabbed her attention. The cashier had come in front of the counter and was shouting words blocked by the barriers of glass. She looked at her husband and said "That's the girl the cashier was saying was intoxicated when we were in there." A customer was also shouting at the girl as he headed for the door in front of their car.
Her husband replied that it appeared someone would be hauled into jail before the night was over. Then the guy burst out of the convenience store followed by the girl who was hitting him as hard as she could while screaming profanities at him. He kicked the girl away from him as one would kick at an attacking dog, yelled his own profanities and got in the passenger side of the car. Another young woman was in the driver's seat and revved the engine, backing away as the distraught young girl screamed painful insults after them.
She felt her hand on the doorknob. She had burst into the room where this man she had been married to for half her life was planning his new life with the woman he intended to marry once he was able to shake her loose. Her heart had raced as she announced a curse on the woman's younger son and walked out barely able to breathe while the two occupants of the room laughed and went on with their planning. One day they would not laugh. This woman would beg forgiveness while this man would deny that the outcome was more than coincidence.
Staring at the blackness outside her car window, she realized that she had no understanding of who the girl or the guy or even the driver of the car was. She might have been a wanton seeker of manflesh from a local sleaze pit who had lost out to a stronger lure. She might have been the other woman left behind when the guy realized what he was about to throw away. She seemed like a young but worn cast off who had tried to make herself appealing enough to win back the respect and affection she had sold herself to obtain. She considered her own last ditch demeaning effort to reclaim a life that was all she knew so many years ago.
At that moment she wanted to tell the young woman they had left weeping and clenching her fists as she writhed about, that she was worth more than she could imagine. She wanted to tell her to forget what he had taken from her and to forget the willingness with which she had given to him. She wanted to caution her kindly to hold herself in more honor with more reserve and make any man in her future win her heart, her body, her devotion through great effort. She wanted to assure her that she could forgive herself for ever wasting a moment of life on someone who did not cherish everything about her.
A silent tear slipped down the cheek in the darkness. There are things that cannot be said. There are things that will not be heard.
DW 2009
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