THE TRAP
The Autumn sun played hide and seek with a few
clouds in an otherwise clear, blue sky. It warmed her back as she
stood by the mound of freshly turned earth. It was over. Now
there was only stillness and memories.
It should have been raining, she thought, everything should be
wet. Wet shoes, wet coat, wet hair, wet face to hide the tears
that ran unchecked down her cheeks. Licking her lips, she tasted
the salt on her tongue and fumbled in her pocket for a tissue.
She knew she should leave. There was no-one else around now and
really there was no point in standing there. Yet to walk away was
such a definite step, the final goodbye - and it was so hard to
do.
Looking up, she noticed the purple heather like a misty scarf
swirling around the edges of the hills. A hawk hovered and
curved, cutting patterns through the air. Once this would have
been a good day for a walk.
Tramping over the moors, enjoying
the freedom and each other's company. She with her
hair wild - tossed in the wind. He bursting with life and energy.
But then, every day had been a good day for a walk.
A smile tipped the corners of her mouth as she recalled the first
snow last winter. They had awoken to a white world and crept out
early. No need to warn him to be quiet as they slipped through
the sleeping village towards the woods. Snow muffled every
footstep, every sound. They'd stopped at the stile and had seen a
veritable wonderland spread out before them.
Branches hung down low, laden and sparkling. The river, encrusted
with ice, glistened in the pale morning sun. Every stick and
every stone was magically transformed into a mysterious crystal
shape.
Suddenly, clambering over the stile like an excited child, she
had plunged into snowdrifts, laughing and shouting. He, darting
between the trees, twisted and turned, startled as the dislodged
snow showered him. Finally, rolling and sliding, they had
collapsed together in a heap, breathless, exhilarated.
Then what about that glorious
summer ? She could still smell the scent of the river flowers,
tinged with garlic, the dampness of the moss and the heat rising
from the smooth, black rocks. He'd jumped out of the boat,
tipping it up, then swam for the bank. Laughing and spluttering,
she'd reached it soon after him. He was nowhere to be seen. She'd
called and called but all was quiet. Then, just as she'd finished
drying herself, he'd appeared, a mischievious glint in his eye.
Throwing himself at her, he tumbled her to the ground, smothering
her with his wet body. Life with him had been so much fun.
But, somewhere along the line, it had changed. Slowly,
insidiously, the illness had overtaken him, sapping his vitality,
leaving him helpless. There was no pain, she was told, but
watching him deteriorate every day was an agony.
She'd turned to Jeff for comfort. Cried in his arms as he'd held
her, so patient, so kind, so loving. He'd soothed her with
stories of his Australian home. He could make her see the
sun-drenched beaches, the wild bushland and the coral islands. A
house with wide verandahs, fringed with eucalyptus trees, their
pungent scent rising in the noon-day heat, became so real to her.
She could hear with him the sound of the surf, the raucous laugh
of the kookaburra and the tinkling bell-birds.
"Come home with me," he'd begged. " There's
nothing you can do for him now. He'll be well cared for."
The persuasion was strong. She'd felt the pull. She'd wanted to
say: "Yes,oh yes !" and go with him. Cupping her face
in his strong, brown hands, he'd kissed her tenderly.
We have so much to give one another," he'd whispered. "
Don't make me wait too long."
Every night she dreamed about the house. She walked its rooms
with Jeff, sharing its comforts, knowing it was home for her too,
but every day it became more clear that it was not to be.
Her responsibility lay with that poor trapped body, whose eyes
followed her everywhere. No matter how much she longed to go she
could never leave him. He'd been so loving, so faithful and she
loved him too. He depended on her totally. She would not leave
him in someone else's care. They would share the trap together.
The day Jeff left, she knew a terrible feeling of emptiness. His
promise echoed in her head.
"When you're ready to come
with me," he'd said, "I'll be there."
Had he realised how torn she was? The beginning of a new life
with him meant the end of the old life with her partner of many
years.
She was roused from her thoughts by the rasping sound of a metal
gate and footsteps on the path. She felt his hand touch her
shoulder.
It's time to leave, my love, " Jeff said. " The trap
door has opened for you both."
She sighed deeply and whispered, "goodbye, my darling."
She dropped the worn collar and lead on the grave and walked from
the Pets' Cemetary.
Copyright Norah E Bishop