The Sky Grows Grey ~ Chapter 4

He just stood there, in the doorway, not moving, just watching as I scrubbed the blood from the floor. The suds bubbled up from the carpet and tickled my fingertips. Tears fell from my eyes and dropped into the pinkening suds. My hot tears crushed the bubbles on their way to the carpet underneath leaving indentations where they fell. Under my breath, I cried, “I cannot do this anymore, I just can’t. Nobody should have to live this way, nobody…” The words were faint, barely audible, and shaky, so very shaky. I violently continued to scrub, hoping that he didn’t hear. I trembled in fear that there would be retaliation for what I had said.

The fire began to build in the muscles of my upper arm, and my shoulder started to ache. My fingers were a pale white due to the force. My skin began to prune and the cold from the door gave me a chill, but I still did not look up. I couldn’t look in his direction. I was so frightened. In a whisper, I broke out, “You are killing me, everything that was me is dieing and dieing slowly…” I let out a gasp of air as the sweat beads began to form on my brow. The fire shifted to my shoulder and my forearm, but I did not stop. I diligently scrubbed the carpet, listening but not looking, hearing but not seeing his reaction.

His keen ears caught my words, and he began to weep lightly at first, but then louder. Once again, he cried and begged, “Baby, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to do it. I really didn’t. You know how I get when I’ve been drinking. Without you here at night, it’s hard to figure out what to do with myself. It’s difficult for me to be without you,” he rushed as he spoke; but he continued, “so I just sit here and drink, and I start to think about all of the guys that look at you the way they do, and I think about you smiling at them making them think they have a chance, and I get so angry. I just need reassurance when you get home that it’s me you want, that you don’t want to be with anyone else but me. And then, you refuse me the way that you do, and I can’t hold in the anger. You know how I get, and you know when I am like that, I cannot control myself. Only if you weren’t so damn…. Well…look at you. It should be a crime to walk around looking the way you do. You are so wonderful to look at; you're perfect with your perfect little body and beautiful smile, and look at me. Why did you choose me? I know I’m not much to look at. Just look at you, you shouldn’t make yourself look so beautiful…”

“What!” I quickly turned my face to him, my hair flying in the air and whipping the wall. “Look at me!” The scrub brush fell from my hand into the suds, crushing them as it landed, and the color began to return to my aching fingers. His head dropped and my voice rose, “Why don’t you look at me? You can’t, can you? You cannot face your work. How beautiful am I now? You fixed it so that everyone will turn their heads when they look at me, didn’t you.” I pounded my fist on my legs as I talked, but still, his eyes were diverted to the floor. So, I screamed, “God damn it, why won’t you look at me? Where is the beauty that you speak about; where is the perfection that you talk of? Do you see me?” I crawled across the floor, underneath him. His eyes were tightly shut as I grabbed hold of his thighs and looked up into his face. I shook his legs and screamed up at him, “Look at me!” My head ached from the pressure of raising my voice, and my jaws trembled from the pain of stretching my swollen skin and making my battered muscles to move.

His eyes popped open and a crystal clear tear broke free from a short amber eyelash and feel upon my swollen cheek. To his knees he fell, and the tears ran free. He brushed back the long brown hair from my face and pulled my head to his. “I am so sorry, baby. I don’t mean to hurt you. I don’t want to treat you like this. You deserve better; you deserve more. Please, don’t leave me. I promise I will make it up to you.” He laid his lips upon my forehead and gave me a gentle kiss. “You are my dream-girl, and I can’t live without you. I always wanted a girl like you, and I would never survive if I lost you. I will make it up to you I promise. I know I have to make it better for us. I know I do, and that is what I’ve been doing. That’s where I’ve been.”

“What are you talking about?” I spoke softly and quizzically.

“I have got a plan, one that will make life easier for you, one that will give us time with each other. I joined the army…”

“What?” I asked in disbelief and pulled myself from him in order to look into his face. “What are you talking about, and how is that going to put an end to this?” I listened as he explained how he thinks his aggression comes from his lack of physical activity. He also told me how he felt that being in the army would prevent me from having to work so much. He confessed about not going to school and being kicked out because of his lack of attendance. He went on to tell me how good the military would be for the both of us and how it would give us more time together. He also told me that I would have free medical care so that we could see about getting my little problem fixed so I could have kids some day. I interrupted, “Hold on, you made all of these plans without talking to me first? Why?”

He replied, “When I got up this morning and saw you lying in bed.” He nodded to the bed that still had the dark brown, crusty stains from the night before. “I didn’t recognize you. Then it dawned at me that I had done that to you. I had changed you from a beautiful woman to a battered shell of what you once were. I knew that if I didn’t do something drastic, I would lose you forever; and I don’t think I could bear that. Just give me this last chance, this shot to make it up to you and I promise, I will never have to ask for your forgiveness again.” His head dropped and a single tear trailed down his pale cheek. I stared in disbelief. I looked him over and pondered the choice I had before me, and I knew in the bottom of my heart the choice was no choice at all. It was an order, which I must obey if I wanted to survive the next few months. I listened about the delayed entry program, and how it would give him time to prepare for basic training.

The plan was not exactly the one I had come up with. It was much different, and was one that took trust. But, I knew once he became government property, he would have to follow the letter of the law. I tried to listen to all of the details, but my mind began to drift. I stared at his face and tried to remember why I fell so hard for him. His golden hair caught the light of the ceiling fan above. He stood and began to walk around as he talked. As he paced the floor I stared as if I heard every word he said. His six foot four lanky body paced back and forth across the carpet. His large clumsy feet carefully diverted from the pile of fading suds in the carpet, and I continued to stare wondering why I was there in that room, what had brought me to the place that I was in at that very moment. As he talked, his face began to glow and he often chuckled, revealing the huge gap between his crooked front teeth. His large nostrils flared as he gained excitement from all of the plans he made. The bridge of his nose held the secret of a break from his own father. His big ears held up the thick-framed glasses that he wore in front of his pale blue-green eyes. I remembered; it was his eyes that drew me in when I first met him.

…I had just interviewed with the manager of the local fried fish restaurant. She told me to wait as I sat on the cold blue vinyl cushioned wooden booth. I chipped away at the red nail polish on my fingers as I waited, revealing the natural pink nail beneath.

Suddenly, someone sat across the booth from me. He introduced himself as one of the night managers, which was the shift I would work if I received the job. I nervously shook his large hand and looked at him. It was then that I noticed his eyes. They were so beautiful, a pale blue-green, so nice, and comforting, so terribly deceiving, but I had yet to learn of how they deceived me.

When I smiled at him, he stopped the interview. I was instantly self-conscious and thought I had blown the job interview. He got up and walked away without a word. Not knowing what to do, I just sat idly by, confused. He returned to the booth with a blue three pocketed half-apron, a blue visor, and two yellow polyester shirts with blue collars and ribbing. He told me that I would be working the same nights he is working and wrote down my schedule. Then he instructed me to acquire a pair of navy slacks and black socks and shoes.

Again, I smiled and thanked him for the job. I assured him that I would not let him down as I placed my small hand into his shaking it vigorously. Again, I looked into his eyes and stopped shaking his hand, but my hand was still in his as I peered into those beautiful eyes. And, there we stood, hand-in-hand losing track of time. Again, I smiled, but this time it was a softer smile, a gentler smile. Suddenly, he jerked his hand from mine as the bell on the entrance door rang. He frowned at the girl who had walked in and said, “Okay, so I’ll see you tomorrow at 4:15, sharp. Right?”

I grinned and replied, “Yeah, I’ll see you then.” I dashed out the door and began to walk down the street, back toward the apartment a few miles away…

“Well? What do you think? Are you listening?” he asked.

I had not been listening for a while, but I glanced up at him knowing that the littlest insubordination could set him off. So, I shook my head and replied, “Of course, I’m listening.”

“Well, then, what do you think?”

“I think you are right,” I replied. Foolishly, I accepted the arrangement and told him I thought that it would be good for us to make some changes and this may be the change we both needed. I didn’t lie to him. I knew deep down in my heart that changes must be made, but they were not what he had planned. I also knew that this could quite possibly be my way out of this relationship. Therefore, I agreed that his lack of physical activity possibly caused additional stress on him, which led to aggression, which was, as I knew, a downright lie, but the blame is was never to be put on him. Our problems were to never be his fault, just mine. He was the king that ruled with the iron fist that must be obeyed at all cost, and I was the peasant at his feet and bowed down to his every whim.

He instructed me to relax, and he would clean the floor and that I had been through a lot in the last couple of days. I sat on the edge of the bed with my favorite novel in hand, Stephen King’s Salem’s Lot. I tried to read, but could not focus my eyes on the text. So, I sat and pretended to read the yellowed, crisp pages of the worn book. I turned the pages, and the dog-ear of one page fell off as I tried to lift it. The triangle shaped piece of paper slowly floated to the floor and landed on the pink and white swirled suds that he had made on the carpet next to where he was scrubbing in violent circles.

“Damn it! How and the hell do you expect me to get all of this shit cleaned up if you keep making a mess?” His voice was raised, and at that exact instant, I yanked my knees to my chest, wrapped my arms around them, and tightly clenched both my legs and my book. I tried to hold in the shakes and shuddering of my body with my grasp, but my attempts were futile, which caught his attention. He raised his head, “Hey, baby, I was just playing. Don’t worry about anything. I-I-I’m just kidding, really, trust me.” He picked up the scrap of yellowed paper and tried to flick it at me as he chuckled. The damp paper stuck to his fingernail, and with a frown, he shook his hand to get it to fall off.

I slowly let go of my bruised legs and let them drop to the mattress. There I sat with my legs crossed in front of me, and I cautiously opened my book back up. “It’s okay. I knew you were joking. I was too.”

He smiled and returned to scrubbing the blood from the carpeted floor. Again, I pretended to read, but I cautiously watched him work over the top of my book. I could see the muscles in his arm contract and bulge beneath his shirt as once again he scrubbed violently in circular motions. From one stain to the other, the suds of the cleanser turned pink as it bonded with the blood. “Oh, before I forget, your mother called this morning while you were sleeping,” he said. “She told me that your cousin is in from Tennessee, and they are making a trip to visit you today.”

“What? I-I can’t see them today. When are they leaving? Are they on the way now? I cannot let her see me like this. I just can’t…please… don’t make me have to see her today…” I began to cry. I could not let her know that she was right, that what I had with him was not love. I would have to admit that I was wrong when I told her that he loved me, and I was not ready to do that. I was still afraid of her, so I cried.

“Here, this is what we will do. It is icy outside, because it’s been snowing all day. As we speak, the sky grows more and more grey. By the time your family gets here, the roads and sidewalks will be very icy. We’ll just tell them it was like this last night, and you slipped and fell down the stairs.” He plopped his hands down into the pink mess, “Damn it, I cannot get this cleaned up… I am going to have to go and rent a steam cleaner. You work on getting the rest of the blood cleaned up while I am gone, and we will explain everything to your family when they get here.” I nodded my head in agreement, and he knelt in front of me on the floor, lifted my chin with his long, white index finger, and looked into my eyes. “Don’t you worry about a thing, I’ll take care of everything.”

I knew he would because he always did. He was a master of disguise, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a devil in human form. He was a smooth talker and had all of my friends, as well as his own, convinced that I was a clumsy one, that I was just an accident waiting to happen and was childlike. To everyone I knew, I was a child that had to be guided and directed by him, and without his guidance, I would surely fail and hurt myself. I was ignorant, frail, and innocent as he told many, many people. I had a delicate condition and some emotional problems that were the residual effects of my tormented childhood.

His kiss upon my swollen lips ached, but I had played this game before. I managed to smile and said, “Okay, I’ll get started on the cleaning” like the fight was no big deal. He stood and walked out the door, which didn’t shut all of the way. The cold crisp air brushed against my weak legs. I walked over to the door to close it, but I went outside instead. I stepped out on the cold, frozen concrete next to my doormat. The sky was dark and grey. I looked up at the clouds as my face caught the tiny snowflakes, which drifted slowly from the sky. My bare feet were frozen and ached, but the cold felt so good on my battered face. I looked up at the sky and laughed as I raised my arms toward the snow. Streams of golden light peered from the edges of the grey clouds and hit the dangling icicles from the balcony across the courtyard. Golden light danced underneath the thickening layer of ice where the waves lapped against the edge swimming pool. The crystal clear water swayed gently in the wind. I thought of jumping in and letting the frigid water take me to my grave. I walked to the edge of the pool and stared down to the bottom, as I let the cold envelop me completely. I slid the ball of achy foot back and forth onto the slick ice. Mesmerized by the beautiful colors dancing on the ice in front of me, which were refractions from the sun through the icicles above, my body began to sway in the frigid wind. I thought for an instant to put weight on my foot and let myself slide across the ice and fall through the center of the pool.

The water was so inviting, but NO! Not like this, not today, I thought. Then he would win. I regained my composure, pulled my foot alongside the other, and walked back toward the opened door of the tiny apartment. Before I stepped across the threshold, I turned and looked back toward the sky. I smiled as the snowflakes drifted down to my face, down from the sky that was so cold and grey.


...to be continued...