An Old Woman's Tale (Part 1)

The wind pushed through the cracks of the ramshackle house. Barely livable. That’s what she called it. Everything worked though, the lights were on, and an aggressive fire was burning in the woodstove that sat on broken tile. There was a soft spot on the floor in front of the main entrance that came from years of floods and bad storms, you had to make sure to step over it when you came through the door otherwise your foot was certainly going to go through the boards and there would officially be a hole there. I don’t think that poor old woman could handle it if there was one more hole in her house. She raised 4 children in that house, and they took their toll on it for sure. Although some of the damage came from fights with an abusive husband who left her there one day and just never returned.

That was a peaceful day though, the day he never returned. She had cleaned the house; she had made the dinner. All the kids had grown and moved away at this point. She hung a picture over the freshly broken drywall in her kitchen with the hope that not being able to see the mark on the wall might be a great way to keep the peace tonight. 4 o'clock came, he would be there in 20 minutes. Her hands were shaking so she stirred the chili again and went to work setting the table. She poured him a glass of sweet tea, and herself a glass of water. 4:30 came and went. A little strange, since he is never late. She sat down. Just breathe, she reminded herself. Three deep breaths and she was able to force her heartbeat to a normal rhythm again. 5 o’clock, and then 6. She sat at the table still. Waiting. Her stomach growling. She moved to stand in front of the pot on the stove. Stirring again, lowering the heat so the chili didn’t burn. There was a knock at the door, and she paused. Visitors don’t come to this house. The walls were thin and everyone on the street heard the fights, the cries, the thud of a body hitting a wall or a floor. She opened the door a crack and to her surprise a thin, young boy was standing on her porch. He was holding a letter and without breaking eye contact he held his hand towards her. Urging her to take it, he never said a word.

“I’m sorry dear, what is this? I think you might have the wrong house.” she said this in barely a whisper, with the realization that it had been a few weeks since she spoke to anyone but her husband.

The young man shook his head and held his hand out further. She took the letter and within two seconds he was off the porch and sprinting down the road.

A wash of embarrassment flushed through her as she thought of all the reasons the boy might be so nervous. He must live nearby; he probably has heard the rumors and stories of the things that have been done to her in this house and sometimes even in public.

Remembering the envelope, she flipped it over, and realized it was not sealed. A panic set in. If it was for him and he saw it unsealed, then he would assume she read it. That would not be okay. That would be another terrible night. After last night she needed a break, she needed everything to go smoothly tonight. She would seal it and he would never know. She moved the envelope to her lips, ready to seal it when she stopped a small thought gnawing at her.

What if it wasn’t for him? What if it was in fact for her? It isn’t sealed, she could take a quick peek and then seal it if it’s none of her business. Her hands started to shake, and her heart was pounding in her ears with the thought of doing even the slightest thing that he might not agree with. But why would the boy bring it here, and give it to her in silence if it wasn’t for her? Why, when there is no car in the drive and barely a light on but the kitchen would he think that her husband would be home to receive it.

She had to know. She didn’t know why, but she all of sudden needed to know exactly what was in this letter. She pulled the thin piece of paper out of the envelope, only a few words were scribbled in cursive. She focused and then her mind went blank.

He is never coming back. You can breathe now.

She sat back at her spot at the table. Her mind was racing. Suddenly she stood and took her bowl to the pot on the stove. She filled it with her homemade chili. She sat it down at the table and looking at her water she switched it for his tea. She took a deep breath, and she ate her dinner. That night she went to sleep, and she prayed that when she woke up the note would be true.

That was 15 years ago. Nature has taken over the destruction that was started but she sits in her warm home, that has been quiet and peaceful for years. She walks to the entrance to turn the lights out for the night, before she can, she sees a silhouette at the door and hears a sharp, strong knock.....

To Be Continued