The Harbor

The Harbor

The Harbor's cool breeze brushes my face as I look down at the sleeping infant in my arms. Her rosy cheeks seem to glow against the gray skies. The sea water smells thick, a combination of dead fish and motor oil. I lift her up and brush my lips against her forehead. She stirs a little. People pass by, looking at us with warmth, and I imagine they are thinking how cute we must look; How seldom a man embraces his child with such love. But this isn't just a tender moment. This is Goodbye. To the harbor, the sea, and my Child.

******


You never think that infidelity can strip you down to the core, but believe you me, once a female divorce judge is appointed, you can pretty much kiss your ass, and the pants covering them, goodbye. Marcie cried during her testimony, explaining how this had ripped her world apart. She had a good lawyer, and she cleaned house. I was denied joint custody because the infidelity took place while she was pregnant. She smiled when the judge read the ruling.

The Movers took the sofa, the pool Table, the HDTV we bought a year ago for the Super Bowl. The whole time, she glared at me with arms crossed. One by One, my possessions floated from my house to her new apartment, purchased through alimony. I tried to beg, to plead, to tell her that it was just a stupid mistake. Our marriage had been failing, and she had found her opportunity to leave without guilt.

The story is a brief one to tell. I went to a bar, got drunk, met a young girl, and banged her. It wasn't sweet or romantic. It wasn't worth the cost of everything. But I did it and in an attempt to be a good husband, I told her everything. You could almost see the dollar signs in her eyes.
She rubbed her stomach, and with a blank face said, "I want you out of here, and I want a divorce." I understood her anger, and thought maybe if I left the house for a few days, we could talk about it. She went into premature labor three hours later.

I waited anxiously in the waiting room, My mother and father both shaking their heads after hearing my story.
My mother, pointing a polished nail, said "Thank God she was late term."
My father smacked the back of my head. "What the hell were you thinkin'?"
I told them that Marcie and I would work it out, we always did.
Mom just shook her head.
“Men, always thinking with the wrong head.”

Nani came out perfectly, despite the early labor. I peered through the window of the Maternity Ward, and saw her, sleeping in the Incubator. I was not permitted to see Marcie, or to hold Nani. Nani’s Grandfather threatened a genuine beatdown if I even attempted.

She refused to speak to me until divorce papers were served. To make things easier for everyone involved, I signed the papers quickly. Mediations were a total disaster, and ended with her getting everything she wanted. Even after the visitation times were set, she refused to let me see Nani.

After six months of playing cat and mouse, she finally called. “I’m bringing Nani over at three, if you want to see her.”
I couldn’t help but scoff. “What was the change of heart?”
She chuckled, “If you honestly want to know, I’ve got a date.” My stomach was infected with squeamish butterflies. Almost instantly, tears started to build in my throat. I didn’t know what to say, so I just replied softly, “Okay, I’ll see you at three.”

I peered out of the window, to see dark clouds approaching. I would not allow my sadness to consume me, holding my child for the first time was much too precious. I know what you are thinking; you could have taken her back to court. You could have fought to see your child. But I was always under the illusion, that one day we could work it all out, and I could make up all of the time I missed.

“She has a fucking date!” I screamed, throwing the cordless at the wall. The battery came off and slid under the dresser. I looked at the time: 11:00, more than enough time to get the house clean and get myself together. I dreaded the encounter, but smiled at the thought of kissing Nani’s little fingers and feeding her. All of the little things that parents took for granted.

I cleaned the house thoroughly. No stone was left unturned. Covered in various cleaning agents, I hopped into the shower. After I dressed in a red polo and an ironed pair of khakis, I looked at the clock: 2:55. I went downstairs and sat by the window, looking towards the driveway. The sky continued to grow dark, and I could tell the approaching storm was brutal. I thought, Maybe it will be too bad for her to drive, and she will have to stay for a little while. We can talk and get our shit together. But the car didn’t come, and the phone didn’t ring.

The first thing I did was make sure that I didn’t break the cordless by chucking it. The dial tone hummed loud and clear. Then I got the pang of fear, maybe she was in a car accident. Maybe they are in trouble!
4:45, still no word.

The wind began to howl wickedly as rain and hail pelted the roof.
Maybe she pulled over to wait for the storm to pass?
I tried to watch TV to pass the time, but the anxiety was too high. The thunder and lightning were too fierce to concentrate. I began to pace back and forth, glancing out of the window with each pass. A tree branch snapped and flew by, and I jumped back suddenly.

Finally, after trying to watch The Terminator, I phoned her. The phone rang six times, then the answering machine picked up. “Hi, You’ve reached Marcie, I’m not home right now, but leave a message and I’ll....”
I hit flash and dialed the number again. After the fourth ring, a very deep, un-Marcie like voice answered, “Hello?”
In an instant, I hung up the phone. And the realization hit me with a wave of nausea. She wasn’t coming. She wasn’t bringing Nani. She was staying at home tonight, sleeping with the prick on the other line. She had promised to bring her, just to toy with me again.
The loose screw finally fell out completely.

Without thinking, I grabbed my keys and hopped into the car. I drove maniacally, despite the rain. My thoughts were so jumbled, I couldn’t even say for sure what I was thinking. I didn’t understand why she would promise to bring Nani, only to back out without calling.
“Who the fuck is that guy?” I screamed, smacking the steering wheel. My hands trembled so badly, that I was bouncing all over the road. It never even occurred to me what I would do once I got to her place. But I needed closure. I wanted to know why she was so dedicated to making my life a living hell.

I stood in the rain, eyeing the door, preparing myself for the confrontation. It was dark, the clouds bringing night prematurely. I began to shiver uncontrollably, despite the stifling humidity. Finally, I got the courage to knock on the door.

I knocked twice, as easily as I could. She answered the door in a Silky robe, her hair uncombed. She looked like she had just finished having sex. Her welcoming smile faded instantly as she realized it was me. In an instant she walked out of the door. “Get the hell out of here Jim, right now.”

The rain quickly drenched her robe, and I could see her pink breasts heaving with anxiety. “Why are you doing this?”
She shook her head, “Please Jim, get out of here.” She pointed towards the door. "He'll freak out if he hears you.”
“Just tell me, why won’t you let me see her?” I held my hands out and screamed, “Why promise to bring her over and not show up?"

Her eyes were apologetic. Mascara began to flow down her cheeks, and for the first time, I saw her as haggard and worn, and I wondered if I did this to her. She nodded her head solemnly.
"You don't want to know, you really don't."

I walked to her and stared into her eyes.
"Yes I do."
Her lips trembled as she whispered, "She isn't yours."
"What?" I whispered angrily.
"You heard me Jim."

For about three seconds, it didn’t register with me. It was as if a piece of the sky fell and hit me square between the eyes.

I slammed her against the door. Before I could do anything, a burley man was outside. He was a gargantuan thing, red curly hair, and heaving pecks. With a quick glance at Marcie, he attacked me. I wish I could say that I fought valiantly. But the truth is, he’s a mammoth dude, and I was left bleeding and crying, “Why did you do this, you fucking bitch?”

I was curled into a pathetic ball when they closed he door on me. I lay there for a long time, sobbing, praying for this to not be my life. But after the bleeding subsided, I realized yes, this is what it has all become.

I sat in the car, mulling over everything that had transpired over the past year. Thinking back, I could remember plenty of times when she went out for hours at a time, only to say, “Oh, me and some girls went out for a drink,” or when she was pregnant, “The girls went out for lunch and asked me to come.”

In the car, finding it impossible to drive with swollen eyes, I cried myself to sleep. I awoke to a gray sky once again. Somehow, the sadness had subsided during sleep, only to be replaced with uncontrollable rage. Angry, mainly at me, for my reaction to the man’s beating. Without thinking, I opened the trunk of my car and sifted through the pile of various things. Two things caught my eye, and I couldn’t decide which one to bring.

Holding a baseball bat and a tire iron, I approached the Apartment door in the early morning hours. I beat on the door obnoxiously. After a few moments, the beast of a man opened the door, groggy, with a bewildered look on his face. Before he could react, I dropped the Tire Iron and hit him square in the face with the baseball bat. Tooth and blood squirted out in a steady stream. I dropped the bat beside him, and picked up the tire iron.

“William?” Marcie called sleepily from the bedroom. I ran towards the sound of her voice and without thought or reaction, I hit her. Over and over, I beat her face in, until there was nothing left but a pulpy mass. It was all so quick, that I wasn’t even sure that she had screamed. But then I heard it, in the crib right by the bed. A blood curdling cry. Nani’s cry. I realized that I had murdered Marcie in front of her daughter, yet I did not feel remorse for the murder. I nuzzled her gently as she continued to cry, smearing Marcie’s blood on her forehead. She cried harder and I felt weak, knowing that all this time I had longed for this, only to find out that she was not mine.

Sanity started to come back and I realized that I had to get out of the apartment as soon as possible. My fingerprints were everywhere. I ran to the bathroom scrubbed my hands and face, removing as much of the blood as I could. Then, I scooped up the crying Nani and washed off her face. After settling her down, I drove with her in my lap to the Staten Island Harbor.
******

So here we are now, Nani and I. The people staring don’t have any clue what we have been through in the few moments we’ve spent together. In this instant, I feel a Love purer than anything that I could have ever imagined. The fact that she is not mine is but a minor detail. Teetering on the edge of the pier, I hear the screams of the onlookers. And I press her up to my chest, trying to protect her, as the freezing water approaches.