To Protect and Sever, Part I

Prompt:

You come home late at night, after a hard day.  The message light on the answering machine is blinking.  You press play and listen.

“Good evening, Ms. Farr. This is Virginia Highway Patrolman Bill Jenkins.  There has been an accident involving your fiancé, Simon Knight. It is eight thirty-five AM on April 12^th, and Simon is on his way to St. Augustine Hospital. He has asked that we contact you and alert you to the situation. You may call me back at my office number: 804-974-8180.”

Emilene Farr didn’t move her finger from the playback button until the sound of the passive voice was cut off by a shrill beep. She staggered backward before turning and darting into her bedroom to collect her purse. She flipped a light-switch, and from beneath her bed-sheets a male figure emerged. She didn’t speak to him, instead catching the strap of her purse and searching frantically for her car keys. She dropped the bag, whimpered, and continued her search on the floor.

“Em?” More of the man appeared, revealing his large torso propped up by a muscular arm.

“Why didn’t you check the messages?” Her voice was breathy as she hyperventilated.

“I got home an hour ago, I came right to bed. Honey- Em, stop.” She produced her keys and shot up on her feet. “What are you doing? What’s wrong? Where-?”

“There’s been an accident!” She repeated, spinning around to face her lover. “I have to get to St. Augustine, if he’s still there. Why couldn’t they call my cell, my work number? I’m never home before now!”

Immediately the man stepped out of bed, revealing himself half-dressed, still in his black work pants. “Who was in an accident? For God’s sake Emilene, I’ll take you, just calm-”

“It’s Simon… Brad, he told the officer I’m his fiancé.”

In the light, Brad’s eyes were the essence of darkness. Although struck by the confusion which had her panting, his tone did not mimic her anguish. “Your ex, Simon?”

“I haven’t seen him since… Since the day I left. Why would he want to see me?”

“Don’t.”

He watched her cheeks flush, and her blonde hair clung to her face by a thin layer of water. “What?”

“Don’t go to him.” Emilene opened her mouth to shout, but too many negations came to mind. She didn’t choose one in time to cut him off.  “He’s injured, Em, not dead. You don’t even know how bad the accident was. For all we know, this is his way of torturing you further.”

“From a hospital bed? He would never ask to see me unless it was urgent. He could be dying, Brad!”

“He’s already dead to you. Or he should be. You can’t see him, you know how he’ll treat you.”

She shook her head furiously. “He can’t hurt me.”

“He can’t hit you,” her lover corrected, “but he’s hurt you before without even being in the same room. He’s a manipulator, Em, and he won’t stop toying with you for as long as he lives. Not after you left him for a law-school nigger.”

Emilene looked around for an answer; the words in her head didn’t make sense. “I won’t let him get to me, I just have to-” she swallowed and placed her hand over her mouth. A few seconds passed before she tried again. “Please, Brad. I know how he is, but I still loved him, and I can’t let him go when he might have something to…”

Then Brad understood. He approached his girlfriend and simultaneously scooped her against his chest. He placed his lips to her ear and held her head still as she sobbed into the crook of his neck. “Emilene, listen to me. Listen. He will not give you closure.” She squirmed anxiously in his grasp. “He won’t. It’s the only thing left he has over you; he will never give you a reason for what he did. Can’t you see? It’s the only way he stays on your mind.” Brad pulled back to capture her gaze. “He doesn’t have anyone, Em. The only person he ever had was you, and he lost you. He’s an angry man, and I’ve represented some very angry men. They are bitter. They are nasty, and they don’t forgive.”

Emilene couldn’t deny him anymore, so she simply pleaded. “Please, my love,” she requested with eyes as big as oceans. “I have to see him. It’s not the right decision, I know that… but unlike Simon, I have something to live for. I have you.” She tested her defiance by moving away, toward her jacket hanging on the back of the door. “I will be okay. But Simon, he has nothing to live for! I can’t refuse him a dying wish, especially if it’s his one chance to make amends for his hatred. Yes he is angry, but that anger stems from genuine pain, because at one point he loved me too, even if he couldn’t show it.”

Brad was starting to refuse again, but Emilene took his hands between hers and spoke louder. “I’m going! I will see him… And if you want to come along, you can. I would like you there to make sure I’m okay… And to take me home afterward. Okay? Brad?”

The distance between their foreheads became obsolete, and the lawyer sighed low and deep. After a moment, Emilene felt the up-and-down friction of his head against hers, his show of consent. She kissed his cheek before reaching out to collect her coat. With her keys in her right hand, and her purse in the other, she led the way out of the bedroom, and out of the apartment, into the frigid air of an expecting night.

February 20, 2012

Posted in Uncategorized and tagged 302prose, journal4, section2.