paradoxical
06-04-2012, 02:30 PM
Sleep with the Angels
When Maria woke up, it was already dark. Her mother would be home soon, drunk again, probably with some man from the bar. Their loud, crude voices would fill the small house as they stumbled inside, followed by a brief silence then laughter and another kind of noise coming from her mother's bedroom. Maria didn’t understand, but she knew it was wrong. She pulled the blanket aside and sat up, placing her feet on the cold floor. She lit the oil lamp she kept by her bedside, stood up, and dressed quickly, the cool night air flowing through the cracks in the floorboard. She put on her coat, then folded her blanket and sheet and put them in her pack. She placed a box of matches in her coat pocket, turned off the lamp and walked to the front of the house, grabbing a lantern on her way out the door.
The moon was nearly full and hung low in the sky. On the front porch were her father’s fish traps, waiting to be mended, and an array of brightly colored floats hanging from the railing. There were fish scales on the wooden porch and the smell of fish and the sea. She walked down the steps, adjusted her pack, and crossed the front yard. She climbed the hill to the top of the levee, listening for the sound of her mother. The night was peaceful, and she enjoyed being alone. On the other side of the levee was a small canal winding through the marshland which led to the bay. There were a few small skiffs and a couple of fishing boats docked at the wharf and on the opposite side of the levee, rows of sugarcane fields and the scattered houses of farmers and fishermen.
Maria heard the sound of a horse and cart coming from behind her on the levee road and she started. It was too late to run back down the hill but when the driver appeared, she could see that it was Tom Larson, the only man she liked beside her father. "Maria," he said, stopping his horse. "Where's your daddy? In the bay?"
"Yes," she said, smiling.
"Oh well, when he gets home tell him I have those rabbits for him. You still want them, right?"
"Oh yes," she said, nodding her head.
"Where you headed?"
"I’m not sure," she said, looking down at the ground. "I might go up to Jack's."
"Yea? Well here," he said, reaching in to his pocket. He pulled out a nickel and handed it to her. She reached up to grab it. "Buy yourself a Coke or something."
"Thank you, Mr. Larson. I will."
"Bye now."
"Goodbye."
He pulled the reins and the horse started to move again, slowly pulling the cart along the road. Maria began walking north, following the horse and cart toward town. After a mile, the canal turned sharply to the east and the marshland gave way to a growth of cypress and tupelo trees. She was now surrounded by woods on either side of the levee and it grew much darker. From deep in the forest came the sound of a barred owl. She wondered if she should light the lantern but her father always told her that the sound of an owl was a good omen.
She walked for half a mile, until she came to a sharp bend in the road. The levee now headed east, toward the bay, following a long curve before heading north again toward town. The smell of salt water carried along the wind and it reminded her of being in the boat with her mother and father, of repairing nets by the bay, before her mother had started drinking whiskey. Maria walked off the road and began making her way down the hill toward the trail which ran through the woods into town. It was the same shortcut everyone used. As she was approaching, the silhouette of a man appeared, framed against the light of the moon. She could tell he was very drunk and as he staggered toward her, she saw that it was John Turner. "Hey!" he said, in a drunken stupor, his eyes squinting in the darkness.
"Who's there?" he asked, an evil grin on his face. Her fingers trembled, but she struck a match and lit the lantern, adjusting the flame as high as she could, hoping someone would see her. She didn't want to be alone with the man in the dark.
He paused, swaying on his feet, a far away look in his eyes. "Maria?"
"Hi," she mumbled.
"Maria," he said, lunging forward. She stepped back, her eyes wide with fear.
"Come here," he said, reaching out toward her. His demented laughter rang out in the night. "Where's your momma?” She circled round him.
“I wanna see your momma tonight.”
Now she was behind him and running toward the trail. She went over the wooden planks that crossed the ditch where water collected on the side of the hill and ran into the woods. “Tell her I’m looking for her,” he called after her. The path was worn and she could feel her way without the lantern. She paused for a moment, breathing deeply, peering out of the darkness of the woods toward the levee. She could see John Turner making his way up toward the road. She adjusted the flame low, and began walking down the trail. An owl sounded nearby and she began to cry a little. I wish Daddy was here, she thought to herself. The trail was not long, and after a few minutes of walking, she could see the glow of the gas lamps on main street in the distance. As she walked from the woods, Maria put out the lantern. She felt braver and decided she would go to Jack's for a milkshake.
She would have to pass in front of the bar and she could already hear the music and the sound of men and women conversing loudly. She crossed to the other side of the street, wondering if her mother was still in the bar. Maria put her head down and began walking slowly. A bald, fat man in a striped suit suddenly appeared in front of her and Maria almost walked into him. She looked up at his red face and noticed that his eyes were bulging. He pulled a gold watch from his pocket. "Well, little girl," he said, glancing at the time, "it looks like you're up past your bedtime."
Maria grinned and he let out a large bellow of laughter. She could smell the whiskey on his breath. Before she realized what was happening, the man placed his arm around her neck and began pulling her toward him.
"And such a pretty little thing, too."
"No," Maria shouted, pulling herself away and running past him. She ran down the sidewalk towards the bar. She stopped outside of Oscar Poppin's jewelry store and leaned against the window. She then turned into the alley that ran between the jewelry store and the grocers and stepped out on 1st Street. Maria began walking toward the church. There would be no milkshake tonight. No one to tuck her in and kiss her goodnight until her father came home.
She passed in front of the brick homes owned by local tradesmen and wealthy farmers. It must be nice to be rich, but I wouldn't want to live here, she thought. A dog began barking and Maria continued to walk, a small shadow moving on the dark side of the road. When she got to the church, she could see the light of a lamp in the parson's house but she knew it would be easy to sneak in to the church. She simply went up to the large wooden doors, glanced behind her, then walked in. The church was completely silent inside, and very dark. She struck a match and lit the lantern, carrying it up the wooden stairs to the choir loft. Maria pulled the blanket from her pack, spread it on the floor, and then unfolded her sheet. She placed the lantern and matches by her side next to the pack and lay down.
This is how I like it, she thought, no one else around, no one to bother me. When I grow up, I’ll always be alone. Why do people drink whiskey? she wondered. She thought of her father and Mr. Larson. They never drank. She thought of her mother, the town, and the people who lived there. She was still a child and couldn't understand the insanity of it all, the evil which seemed to hang over them. Her father would be home in three days, but where would she stay tomorrow night and the night after that? There was no use worrying about it, she thought. She was safe tonight. Maria put out the lantern and went to sleep.
When Maria woke up, it was already dark. Her mother would be home soon, drunk again, probably with some man from the bar. Their loud, crude voices would fill the small house as they stumbled inside, followed by a brief silence then laughter and another kind of noise coming from her mother's bedroom. Maria didn’t understand, but she knew it was wrong. She pulled the blanket aside and sat up, placing her feet on the cold floor. She lit the oil lamp she kept by her bedside, stood up, and dressed quickly, the cool night air flowing through the cracks in the floorboard. She put on her coat, then folded her blanket and sheet and put them in her pack. She placed a box of matches in her coat pocket, turned off the lamp and walked to the front of the house, grabbing a lantern on her way out the door.
The moon was nearly full and hung low in the sky. On the front porch were her father’s fish traps, waiting to be mended, and an array of brightly colored floats hanging from the railing. There were fish scales on the wooden porch and the smell of fish and the sea. She walked down the steps, adjusted her pack, and crossed the front yard. She climbed the hill to the top of the levee, listening for the sound of her mother. The night was peaceful, and she enjoyed being alone. On the other side of the levee was a small canal winding through the marshland which led to the bay. There were a few small skiffs and a couple of fishing boats docked at the wharf and on the opposite side of the levee, rows of sugarcane fields and the scattered houses of farmers and fishermen.
Maria heard the sound of a horse and cart coming from behind her on the levee road and she started. It was too late to run back down the hill but when the driver appeared, she could see that it was Tom Larson, the only man she liked beside her father. "Maria," he said, stopping his horse. "Where's your daddy? In the bay?"
"Yes," she said, smiling.
"Oh well, when he gets home tell him I have those rabbits for him. You still want them, right?"
"Oh yes," she said, nodding her head.
"Where you headed?"
"I’m not sure," she said, looking down at the ground. "I might go up to Jack's."
"Yea? Well here," he said, reaching in to his pocket. He pulled out a nickel and handed it to her. She reached up to grab it. "Buy yourself a Coke or something."
"Thank you, Mr. Larson. I will."
"Bye now."
"Goodbye."
He pulled the reins and the horse started to move again, slowly pulling the cart along the road. Maria began walking north, following the horse and cart toward town. After a mile, the canal turned sharply to the east and the marshland gave way to a growth of cypress and tupelo trees. She was now surrounded by woods on either side of the levee and it grew much darker. From deep in the forest came the sound of a barred owl. She wondered if she should light the lantern but her father always told her that the sound of an owl was a good omen.
She walked for half a mile, until she came to a sharp bend in the road. The levee now headed east, toward the bay, following a long curve before heading north again toward town. The smell of salt water carried along the wind and it reminded her of being in the boat with her mother and father, of repairing nets by the bay, before her mother had started drinking whiskey. Maria walked off the road and began making her way down the hill toward the trail which ran through the woods into town. It was the same shortcut everyone used. As she was approaching, the silhouette of a man appeared, framed against the light of the moon. She could tell he was very drunk and as he staggered toward her, she saw that it was John Turner. "Hey!" he said, in a drunken stupor, his eyes squinting in the darkness.
"Who's there?" he asked, an evil grin on his face. Her fingers trembled, but she struck a match and lit the lantern, adjusting the flame as high as she could, hoping someone would see her. She didn't want to be alone with the man in the dark.
He paused, swaying on his feet, a far away look in his eyes. "Maria?"
"Hi," she mumbled.
"Maria," he said, lunging forward. She stepped back, her eyes wide with fear.
"Come here," he said, reaching out toward her. His demented laughter rang out in the night. "Where's your momma?” She circled round him.
“I wanna see your momma tonight.”
Now she was behind him and running toward the trail. She went over the wooden planks that crossed the ditch where water collected on the side of the hill and ran into the woods. “Tell her I’m looking for her,” he called after her. The path was worn and she could feel her way without the lantern. She paused for a moment, breathing deeply, peering out of the darkness of the woods toward the levee. She could see John Turner making his way up toward the road. She adjusted the flame low, and began walking down the trail. An owl sounded nearby and she began to cry a little. I wish Daddy was here, she thought to herself. The trail was not long, and after a few minutes of walking, she could see the glow of the gas lamps on main street in the distance. As she walked from the woods, Maria put out the lantern. She felt braver and decided she would go to Jack's for a milkshake.
She would have to pass in front of the bar and she could already hear the music and the sound of men and women conversing loudly. She crossed to the other side of the street, wondering if her mother was still in the bar. Maria put her head down and began walking slowly. A bald, fat man in a striped suit suddenly appeared in front of her and Maria almost walked into him. She looked up at his red face and noticed that his eyes were bulging. He pulled a gold watch from his pocket. "Well, little girl," he said, glancing at the time, "it looks like you're up past your bedtime."
Maria grinned and he let out a large bellow of laughter. She could smell the whiskey on his breath. Before she realized what was happening, the man placed his arm around her neck and began pulling her toward him.
"And such a pretty little thing, too."
"No," Maria shouted, pulling herself away and running past him. She ran down the sidewalk towards the bar. She stopped outside of Oscar Poppin's jewelry store and leaned against the window. She then turned into the alley that ran between the jewelry store and the grocers and stepped out on 1st Street. Maria began walking toward the church. There would be no milkshake tonight. No one to tuck her in and kiss her goodnight until her father came home.
She passed in front of the brick homes owned by local tradesmen and wealthy farmers. It must be nice to be rich, but I wouldn't want to live here, she thought. A dog began barking and Maria continued to walk, a small shadow moving on the dark side of the road. When she got to the church, she could see the light of a lamp in the parson's house but she knew it would be easy to sneak in to the church. She simply went up to the large wooden doors, glanced behind her, then walked in. The church was completely silent inside, and very dark. She struck a match and lit the lantern, carrying it up the wooden stairs to the choir loft. Maria pulled the blanket from her pack, spread it on the floor, and then unfolded her sheet. She placed the lantern and matches by her side next to the pack and lay down.
This is how I like it, she thought, no one else around, no one to bother me. When I grow up, I’ll always be alone. Why do people drink whiskey? she wondered. She thought of her father and Mr. Larson. They never drank. She thought of her mother, the town, and the people who lived there. She was still a child and couldn't understand the insanity of it all, the evil which seemed to hang over them. Her father would be home in three days, but where would she stay tomorrow night and the night after that? There was no use worrying about it, she thought. She was safe tonight. Maria put out the lantern and went to sleep.