September: A Love Story That Last Pt 4

  September, 2000. Branson, Missouri

         The creak of the metal chains securing the rocking chair to the porch caused Mary to open her eyes. She felt the deep breaths she was taking as her memory so vividly placed her back in time with William. The sun was completely gone now and the outside light had illuminated the area where she sat. Though the air still carried a cool attitude, the breeze had all but stopped. Mary reached for her coffee and sipped once more. The coffee had begun to lose its heat and she pushed it away in disgust.

         She could still see her dad standing there across the yard of her and William. His face contorted in anger and confusion. Her hand still interlocked with Williams as if he could protect her. Even now she knew what she did that night was nothing like her. She was proper and well behaved. Staying out late would’ve been risky enough much less what actually took place in that unfinished room under the moon light. She clasped her hands together, scratched at the tape residue once more and let the joints stretch as she readjusted herself.

         From inside the house there was a low but audible sound of the phone ringing. She frowned at the notion of having to get up and drag the oxygen tank to answer a call most likely from someone with the wrong number. She closed her eyes hoping the rings would stop and after three more, they did.

         The man on the other end of the unanswered call hung the pay phone up at the Branson Airport. He thought about calling back. “She’s probably already in bed.” He said to himself. He picked up the handle to the small suitcase that rolled on wheels and headed outside. He stood by the curb tired and ready to be home. His hand gestured to a nearby cab and it responded. He sat down in the back seat and let out a sigh as he told the driver the address of the home.

         Mary sat there a few moments. The memory was having trouble restarting. She had noticed this over the past few weeks. She wasn’t sure if it was fatigue, age or a little of both. She squinted harder to help trigger where she left off. It worked.

    October, 1929. San Diego, California

         Mary’s dad stood tall and firm. He hadn’t yet responded to William’s question. She let go of Williams hand and began to walk towards him. William stopped her. “It’s okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She said quickly. She made her way to her dad. William could hear mumbling but no words. Mary walked to the car and got in on the passenger side. Small rain drops started to fall as clouds rolled in under the moon. William still in the same spot stood watching. Mary’s dad still in the same spot stood sending a message. Finally after a few moments the rain began to fall harder. William unlocked the stare and jogged towards his car. As he pulled off, Mary’s dad, still standing in the rain, followed him down the road.

         Mary’s nerves in the car ride trumped the nerves she felt a few hours ago in the room with William. “I’m sorry dad.” Her voice cracked although she wasn’t crying. Her dad didn’t answer. They pulled up to the house and shuffled to get in from the rain. A few families were in the front rooms of the house and Mary planned to stay in that area as long as possible to prevent the oncoming lecture that she knew was inevitable. Her dad walked in behind her. “Back room.” He said as he walked past her. In two words he told her the location, the event and the anger of what was about to happen.

         Her dad never yelled. Mary never really gave him reason too. Even in his heated dialogue he didn’t raise his voice. That didn’t matter at this moment. He could’ve whispered the words. The volume of the words was not the problem. It was the message of the words that was tearing Mary’s heart out. “I don’t want you to see him again.” Mary knew it wasn’t a suggestion. Mary also knew that she was unquestionably in love with William. Most things mom or dad said was followed with simple ‘yes ma’am’ or ‘yes sir’. Although a slew of other words rushed through her mind, she clinched her jaw and timidly agreed. “Yes sir.” She didn’t wait to see if her dad had anything else to say. She headed down the short hall and closed the room to her bedroom door.

         The next morning Mary walked out of the church house. She looked across to where William would be and saw him working. Mary looked to her dad. He nodded allowing her a few moments to go and tell William of her new restriction. She lightly jogged towards him. William, already waiting and watching for her, hopped off the ladder and met her halfway.

         "Mary, I'm so sorry. Is everything okay?"

         Mary told herself not to cry but apparently she wasn't in control of this situation.

         "I can't see you anymore." she said.

         William reached out for her but she stepped back.

         "Can't see me anymore? Why? What's that mean? Ever?" he rambled off the questions.

         Mary looked over her shoulder and saw that her dad and mom were both climbing in the car.

         "I'm sorry. I love you. I"m sorry" Her words were hard to understand as tears  interfered with her throat and streamed down her face.

         William didn't speak. His mind began to shut down. He knew God would take this away from him eventually. Everything good was taken away sooner or later. He had to move from his friends when he was twelve. His dad had died shortly after that and now he stood looking at the girl he knew his heart belonged to and she was being taken away too. His eyes tried to collect as much of her as he could. Life had taught him once something was taken away, it meant for good. He didn't want to remember her this way but he had no choice. She stared back at him and they're eyes spoke to each other. A tear fell from his eye, she reached up before he did and wiped it away.

         "I love you." she said.

         He watched her turn and walk away. She never looked back. He felt his hands tighten and grip the hammer still clinched in his fist. For a moment he felt like he would disintegrate the wooden handle as he forced all his anger into that small pocket. He continued to watch as she got into the backseat of car and headed down the road. No more tears fell but the anger built. His daze focused and looked back at the church. He took the hammer and threw it hard and as far as he could towards the building. He walked to his car and drove off, his hands now gripping the top of the steering wheel.

         As he entered the house he heard the familiar coughing. Still furious at the events that claimed his morning, he walked into the back bedroom. His mom was wheezing on the edge of the bed as he rushed to her. He patted her back a few times and she sat up. Over the past several weeks she had become much weaker and even lost weight. More recently she had begun to get high fevers and night sweats. William remembered the visit from the doctor only eight days ago and he remembered the mention of the great white plague. The plague that had already claimed so many lives. So far the only assistance he had been given was to get his mom fresh air.

         "Lets go outside mom." William said helping her stand.

         Her body shook violently with a series of hard coughs. William stood behind her and patted her back once more.

         "Don't you take her God!" William demanded in his mind.

         "Don't you take her!"