Untitled Piece

She said, “October never got this cold before I moved back here, but I’m not complaining.”

The thin wire frame sign twists and bends in the cold wind. All of the grass under me where I lay feels so cold against my back that I could swear the ground was wet. The sun is blotted out from the sky by a low hanging sheet of clouds. And I just have to lay here and ask myself, “How often do I get to do this?”

After living in Chicago for a while, it never got cold enough for her to consider it Winter or even Autumn. Her thin livid arms are stretched out and up behind her head, she turns to look at me and some of her red hair drops over her eyes, “Did you say something?”

“It was nothing,” I let the words slip out as I continued to stare up at the clouded sky.

This was the epitome of the lazy Saturday, this was the kind of day that I lived for, even on the rare occasion that they happened. I felt her head ram hard into my chest. When I glanced down I could see that she had jumped against me, her arms were wrapped around me and her face gazing up at mine.

“No kids, no work; I really think that I could stay out here like this all day,” her voice was quiet with excitement, the way intimate secrets were told. It was the way her voice always got when she was giddy. That was something that should have been comforting, right?

I wrapped my arm around her back and let my hand rest on her stomach, “With things the way they’ve been around here recently its good to have a rest.”

“Well I know that work’s been getting to you,” her green eyes were half closed now and her lips stayed parted when she finished speaking. She reached up and pushed her hair back some, “Work’s been hard on all of us.”

Hard was an understatement. Including myself, several of our group had been injured in the past few months, one of them nearly died and on top of all of this we have very good reason to believe that we’re being spied on by someone in our group. Basically everything that we knew has changed or be rearranged in some way or another.

Life set us on this track and then halfway through went and pulled the track up and left us to wonder aimlessly with out direction. I’m not sure what options we have when that happens except for trust our instincts and hope for the best.

“At least we’re all still alive,” I said.

She slid her body further up mine, our faces coming closer together, “It’s like every time we talk you get hung up on this,” she paused, “Isn’t there anything else you’d care to think about…anything at all,” her voice took that same tone again.

I smoothed her hair back with my hand and then ran my fingers down through it, “I don’t mean to do that at all…”

“I know, its just…we’ve got some time to rest finally and…”

“I know, sorry…” my voice is dry, dry like the rough brown pine needles we cleared from the yard earlier that day.

“…and you act like things are so serious,” she said. Suddenly she smiled real big, “It’s not the end of the world, you know?”

Sixteen years of marriage and its hard to believe, this woman still smiles at me this way. She smiles at me despite the things I’ve done, despite everything that’s happened. Sometimes I wonder if she’s blocked it all out. Sometimes I think if she only knew. I’m a monster.

My free hand fumbles through my pocket, I produce my lighter and a pack of Lucky Strikes. I struggle to get the pack open with one hand and pull one single cigarette free of the flip top box. Her eyes scold me, but she doesn’t say a word.

I slip the thin white clothed strip of tobacco into my mouth and go to light it, “The end of the world,” I repeat, “Sometimes I think it is…”