The Area Code Of Arizona

The Area Code of Arizona

          The sunsets in Iowa are gorgeous, especially in the summer. The way that all the oranges and reds hit corn fields is simply breathtaking. The wheat shines, and it looks like a golden lake, shimmering and splendid, as if the earth were made of pure gold. If there's enough clouds to reflect the dying rays, the purples and blues add enough color to make one think they're sitting in a rainbow.

         That's where she lived, the last time I saw her. She was sitting on her porch rail, trying to avoid going in to her big empty house to do the dishes. You'd be surprised, I think, to see how many dishes one person can dirty in one day. I suppose she was just used to cooking for more than one person, after all, Jessie DID raise three kids. But she'd been on her own for about two months, and I guess she couldn't break the habit.

          You see, her husband, Rudy, got a job offer out in Arizona, to come run a horse ranch out by Phoenix. He'd told her that it was always his "dream to run a ranch, not a little hole like this farm". He insisted she stay; said Jessie wouldn't like to live in the foreman's quarters, that'd he would make arrangements as soon as possible.

         So, Jessie stayed behind, because someone needed to finish out the crop season, and pack up the house they'd moved into when they'd married twenty-two years ago.

         That's Rudy, always considerate, always looking out for his family. Oh, they had their rough spots, to be sure, but, he got over his 'itch' (it's what he called it).Sometimes, a person just needs to dream a little. Once he remembered their life, and the stability of it, or rather, the foolishness of starting over, he calmed down and forgot about his dreams.

         He stopped mentioning insane things like traveling the world, moving to another state, touring famous cities, such drivel as that. I mean, they'd lived here most of their lives, you couldn't expect her to just pack up and leave everything here, just forget about all she'd ever known!

         It was a Saturday, the morning she woke up, to see him getting together some clothes out of their closet. She almost got hysterical before he explained that he'd been sitting on the move for a while, and he realized that it was "unfair of him to expect you to move right away, to a place where you don't know anyone, where you wouldn't know what to do with yourself."

         And so she let him go, because she knew it would make him happy. He called every once in a while, to let her know how the ranch was coming along, and his progression with their housing plans. Nothing ever seemed to be working out, and without her realizing it, two months went by.

         She thought that by then he would have found them a suitable living space, but everytime he called, he said life had been so hectic lately, he hadn't had the time necessary to 'clear up their little problem'.

         Money came in, three times, I think. Not that she needed it, the harvest had been paying for itself. She had men who came out in the day and worked in the fields for her, but it wasn't the same as watching Rudy work the big machines, binding and pulling the wheat together. She'd always liked to see his big strong body forcing the earth to bend to his will.

         After a while though, all Jessie really wanted to see was Rudy, Rudy down in the garden, pulling his weeds and sprinkling powder to kill those nasty insects, Rudy playing with their dog in the backyard, Rudy asleep in his recliner, remote still in his hand.

         Overcome with sadness, it got to the point that after dinner, Jessie would sit in her rocking chair, staring West until dark, the same direction as Arizona. I'm sure that sometimes she wished she could sprout wings and just keep flying until she reached it, like he did.

         The people in town always asked about him, wondering how he was doing, and Jessie always had the same ready smile, the same response: he was doing good and she was almost ready to join him. But every time she said that, it felt a little less true, a little more like an excuse. She couldn't shake the feeling, but tried to ignore it just the same.

          Her best friend, Susan, called her at the same time every night, after sunset, and eagerly Jessie would pick up the phone, desperate to hear another human voice in the oppressive silence that comes with an empty house.

         But one night, something was a little different, and Susan could tell. Jessie's laughter sounded a little forced, the answers were a little hesitant when she was questioned about Arizona.

         Finally, Susan asked one too many questions, and Jessie opened the gate, and spilled her fears to Susan.

         "I don't know if there is even an Arizona, Susie!"

         "What do you mean? Of course there is, Jess, don't be silly. If I can pinpoint it on the map, then it HAS to be there."

         "I'm not so sure. What if Rudy didn't even go to Arizona?! For God's sake, Susan, I don't even know the area code for Phoenix! Do you? Maybe he's calling from...from..New York!"

         "Don't swear, Jessie. And Rudy wouldn't do anything like that, and I'm ashamed that you'd think he'd do anything so unfaithful to you! He's a great man, and he wouldn't leave you after twenty-something years of marriage!"

         "How can you be so sure? Remember all of his dreams? What if he didn't just get over them, like we thought? He's always had a wild spirit, Suse. You can't change who a person really is!"

         "Sssh, Jess. If Rudy really didn't want the life you had, why would he have stuck with it for over TWENTY years? Can you answer me that?"

         "Well...he wouldn't. Of course not. You're right. How could I even THINK that?!"

         "Of COURSE I'm right. I usually am, about these type of things. Oh, anyway, so have you seen the new man working down at the diner? Pretty nice tail, from what Melinda Price was telling me the other day. You know, she just has the most wandering eye and I was telling Joanna..."

         Jessie felt a wave of guilt wash over her at her unloyal thoughts, and begin to lose herself once more in Susan's chatter about Little League, the new minister at the Lutheran church, and the gossip that only small-towners know. But underneath her 'mmm-hmm's', and 'Oh really's?', Jessie began to believe that Rudy had stayed for one reason: her. But this time, it hadn't stopped him.

*****

         Two weeks later, Jessie could no longer ignore her gut, and as she gazed out at the receding sunset, her eyes burned and she blinked furiously to clear them of the tears.

         It was another Saturday. She'd woke up that morning, and she had known. He'd gone West. And East, and North, and South. He'd done what he'd always wanted to do: travel, and see the marvels of man. And he hadn't looked back.

         She laid in bed for an hour, two hours, she hadn't really counted, and thought about him, and his new life.

         Finally, she understood, or, she thought she did. He hadn't ever got rid of his itch. He just...kept quiet about it. And it had driven him insane, until he couldn't do anything but leave his simple, seemingly-pleasurable life.

         How could she have missed all the warning signs?!, she thought to herself. The waning interest when she dressed up, the lack of sex in their lives, the brochures on the desk in the barn?

         Jessie heard the phone ring, and knew, instinctively, that it was Rudy on the line, with another excuse, another reason for her to stay a little while more in a life he no longer wanted for himself.

          Sighing heavily into the breeze, Jessie let the phone keep ringing as she stepped down off the porch. She didn't want to confront him yet. She calmly walked through the grassy front yard, through the untended rose garden, and then, into the rows of corn, not stopping until she couldn't hear the obnoxious, incessant ringing of the telephone which would offer only more excuses.

         Settling herself down into the rich, dark dirt, Jessie lay down and threw her arms open wide, embracing the dying rays of the sun just as she embraced her dying relationship. Whispering softly, so that no one else would hear of her shame and humiliation, not even the stalks of corn, Jessie quietly said:

          "There...is no arizona."