The Calm

THE CALM

  A Short Story By

  WILLIAM BUTLER

  THE CALM

  Copyright 2011 by William Butler

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The wind blew hard outside knocking open the screen door for the third time today. Jean ran over grabbing at the handle to pull it shut. She locked it so it wouldn’t blow open again. The storm was coming and Jean didn’t know what to do other than continue to make dinner and iron clothes. The television was blaring the news telling her that she should prepare for the worse.

  “What was that noise,” Linda said from her bedroom.

  “The damn screen door blew open again,” Jean said. She wiped her hands on her apron and then walked back into the kitchen to stir the steaming pot of chicken. She was going to make Kevin’s favorite meal tonight. He loved chicken and dumplings and she wanted tonight to be special.

  “The what,” Linda said again from her bedroom.

  “The screen door,” Jean said, yelling but stopped. She walked into Linda’s bedroom as she wiped her hands again on the apron. Linda moved from one end of her room to the next. Jean watched her as she placed a few mementos into her bag. “The screen door blew open again.” Linda stopped long enough to look at her mother.

  “Again, that’s the third time today,” she said.

  “That’s what I said,” Jean said softly as she walked over to Linda’s bed picking up a picture of them two. She stared at it. She remembered the day they took that picture. It was at Hollis Park during the fireworks for the Fourth of July. They were so happy then, not like now. “There’s someone missing from this picture.”

  “And rightly so,” Linda said. “I removed him from the picture. He doesn’t deserve to be a part of that happy day.”

  “You can’t just remove your father from a picture like that.” Linda laughed as she pulled a shoebox from the top shelf of her closet. “Sure I can. It was easy to do. I just took scissors and snipped him out of my life,” she said.

  “Life isn’t like that, you can’t just snip him out of your life like you can the picture,” Jean said. She smiled at the picture. Linda fell onto the bed bouncing a few times before she settled. She opened the shoebox and took the picture from her mother.

  “But don’t you wish you could, momma?” She slipped the picture into the box and closed the lid. “Only if you could just snip away,” she said as she gestured her fingers like she was cutting paper. “Snip…snip.”

  “Oh, child, you are a mess,” Jean said feeling nervous suddenly. She looked at her daughter who seemed very confident—happy. Linda sensed what her mother was thinking and reached over taking her hand into her own. She then hugged her.

  “It’ll be okay, mom. I’m going to be just fine.” Linda pulled back and after rubbing her mother’s arms kissed her on the cheek. “That’s after I get out of here.” She stood up from the bed and went over the inventory in her head of what she was going to take with her. The wind blew hard outside making the house creek a little. Linda stopped running over things in her head turning her attention to her window. Her face changed showing her concern. “I hope this calms down long enough for me to go.”

  “I don’t see any reason why you should leave today or ever for that fact,” Jean said folding her hands together in her lap. Linda turned to her mother.

  “Are you kidding me,” she said. “I can’t believe you said that to me.”

  “Well it’s true, you don’t have a real reason to leave this house—leave me,” she said.

  “Is that what this is about?”

  “No—yes,” Jean said. “I love you and I don’t want you to leave.”

  “But, mother, I have to leave,” Linda said. “I have to go or I will end up doing something terrible—”

  “Stop talking like that,” Jean said feeling shaken. Her eyes watered at the thought of Linda even—“I won’t sit here and listen to you say such sinful things.”

  “Well it’s true!”

  “Stop talking about it,” Jean said, tears falling from her eyes.

  “Why so you can deal with things a little better? Face the facts, mom, I was going to runaway or kill myself. It was one or the other and you knew it.”

  “Stop please stop,” Jean said. “I don’t want to think that you would have ever considered committing such an act.” Linda settled back onto the bed next to her mother.

  “I’m sorry for even letting you know. I just had it with everything—with him,” Linda said. “I just couldn’t take another day living with that abusive pig.”

  “That’s your father you’re talking about,” Jean said.

  “Oh there you go defending him. Why do you do that?” Linda slid off the bed with disgust. “You defend him too much and one day I hope you finally see him for the monster he is,” she said. “It’s only a matter of time, I tell you. You’re going to wake up one day and ask yourself where everyone has gone.” Linda pointed a finger at her mother as she talked to her. “You’re going to regret letting your life slip away—your youth.”

  “My youth,” Jean said with a huff. “I still have my youth.”

  “No you don’t.” Jean looked at Linda, angry. Insulting her like that.

  “I do.”

  “No, you don’t,” Linda said. “You gave that up when you married him. He bled you dry like he was trying to do to me. But I’m not going to let him.” Jean looked down at the bed. It was hard for her to hear what was coming from her daughter’s mouth.

  “You forget how much he has done for us,” Jean said.

  “He hasn’t done a damn thing for me,” Linda said. “But you have. You have helped me out a lot. And I’m grateful for that.” She walked over to her mother and hugged her. Jean stood up and continued to embrace her daughter. Tears pouring from her eyes.

  “It’s the least I could do,” she said as a beeping noise came from Linda’s pocket. They pulled apart long enough for Linda to pull her cell phone from her pocket. She checked the text message and smiled. “Is that her?”

  “Yes,” Linda said smiling. When she said it, she even sounded happy. “Oh, momma, do you have to worry so much.”

  “Linda, I want the best for you, but I don’t know about this,” Jean said.

  “It will be okay. I’m happy and I thought that was what you wanted.”

  “I do. I do want you happy.” They hugged again. The wind blew a hard gush against the house as something slammed hard against the screen door making both women jump. The bang came again accompanied by a man yelling.

  “Jean open the door and let me in,” the man said.

  They both looked at each other.

  “He wasn’t supposed to be home before I left,” Linda said worried.

  “I know—I know,” Jean said holding her daughter’s arms.

  “What should we do?”

  “Jean damn it let me in this house,” he said, banging on the door.

  “Honey, text Beth and let her know you’re going to be late. Your father is home. They must have let them go early from the plant because of the weather,” she said.

  Linda wiped under her eyes erasing the tears her and her mother shared. She then picked her bag up off the bed and slid it under it to hide it from her father. Jean walked up to the door and opened it as Kevin slammed his fist down onto the screen door again.

  “Let me in now, woman.”

  “Hold on I’m here,” she said, unlatching the screen door. The wind blew it open hitting Kevin in the head. Jean snickered, but stopped when Kevin pulled at the door and kicked it until it broke off the hinges. He threw it
onto the porch, letting the wind carry it out into the yard. Kevin walked into the house and slammed the door hard, which made it echo throughout the house.

  “You think that’s funny?” Kevin stared at Jean, harshly. She moved away from him. “The damn boss let me go early because of this damn storm. You know what that means,” he said not really expecting Jean to answer. “It means that my paycheck will be small. Damn weather!”

  “I’m sorry about that,” Jean said. “But it’s a good thing that you’re home and not in this mess. The news says it’s going to be bad.”

  “Shut up,” he said sneering. He walked in glancing at Linda who stood in the doorway of her bedroom. He pulled off his shoes and coat throwing them on the floor. She watched him as he moved through the house finally settling in his chair. Jean picked up his coat and slid his shoes by the door. She folded the coat and motioned for Linda to come over.

  “Go put your bag by the window and I will pass it out to you,” she said, winking at her. Linda pulled out her phone and sent a text to Beth. She walked into her bedroom and pulled her bag out from under it, placing it by the window. She peeked outside. Her phone beeped. She checked the message. She sent another text and looked out the window again. A car flashed its lights two times. Linda sent another text, smiling. She left the room walking back into the living room where her parents were. Jean stirred the chicken and added the