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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612
Hurricane Alley

0 posted 2001-11-23 10:49 PM




He stood facing the ocean, his hand placed upon the cool glass of the sliding door. As the waves crashed onto the rocks below he could feel the reverberation in his open palm. Like the beat of his own heart it pounded fiercely with a coming storm.

His storm had passed. He turned and looked behind him. The unmade bed sat in the middle of the room. Strewn around it like fallen leaves were empty plastic hangers. She grabbed her clothes quickly before she left. He remembered the look in her eyes. Defiant. Hateful.

Why she hated him, he couldn’t fathom. He was the one wronged. He was the one who found her in bed with his best friend. Suddenly he remembered an old joke. A man’s wife slept with his best friend and the man couldn’t decide who he missed more, the wife or the friend.

Jack didn’t miss either of them. He felt sick. His stomach churned as he turned back to watch the ocean. He loved the sea. His favorite novel was “Moby Dick” and he moved from the Midwest just to be near the ocean. Until now it had been his refuge and gave him peace when he needed it.

But now? He wasn’t sure what he needed.  Maybe a new heart? Maybe a better radar for choosing wives and best friends.

He sighed. Unable to cry he just stood there looking out at the ocean, watching the sunset turn the blue green water into golden fire.

**
The ringing of the phone woke him. Jack turned over and found that he wasn’t in bed, but has slept on the floor next to the window. He rolled over and crawled on his hands and knees to the nightstand and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Jack? Did I wake you? It’s…”

“Mary” Jack whispered. His wife. Soon to be ex wife.

“What do you want Mary?”

“Jack I want to come home. I’m sorry. I made a mistake with Steven. Please! Let me come home. We can talk and I know I can make things better if you just give me a chance.” There were tears and pleading in her voice. Jack hated tears. He could never stand to see women cry; it brought out some pagan protective instinct in him.

“Mary.” It was all he could say. His mind was blank, his heart, devoid of feeling. He put his hand over it, to make sure it was still beating. It was.

“Jack, I know what happened was wrong. You have every right to hate me. But please, let me come home and we’ll talk about it.”

Jack wondered why she bothered to call instead of just walking into the house.

“Where are you?” he asked.

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

“Mary, where are you?” he asked again.

“I’m in Miami. I need help Jack. I don’t have enough money to get a plane ticket home. Could you call and put one on your credit card for me?” Her voice now was quiet. Sweet and soft. It was the same voice he’d heard when he stood in the hallway yesterday. The same voice he heard as she talked to Steven about how much she wanted to be with him.

Jack hung up the phone.

He rose quickly, holding his breath. He felt if he didn’t, he would begin to sob. To cry in big gulping weepy sobs. Like some out of control child, frustrated at not getting another cookie.

He walked into the closet and began to pack his suitcases. He ran down to the garage and found a few empty boxes. Back in the house he walked from room to room, tossing his possessions into the boxes. His books, his photos. His camera.

When he was done, he loaded the back of the Blazer. He took all his personal items out of the office. He filled a cooler with food and soft drinks.

The phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Jack, please!” Mary cried.

“I’m on my way out Mary.”

“Out? Where are you going? Did you call the airline?”

“Hold on.” Jack pressed the conference call button. “What airline?” He asked Mary.

“Delta. The number is 800-555-3456.” She said.

Jack was amazed for a split second that she had the number ready. She thought she knew him. Knew that he would call and buy her a ticket.

When the ticket agent came on the line, Mary gave him all the information. Jack gave out his credit card number and hung up.  Mary would be home in five hours.

Jack walked through the house one more time, pausing for a few minutes to gaze out at the ocean. Then he turned. Ran down the stairs to his truck and got in.

Backing out of the driveway, he stopped to pick up yesterday’s mail. There were no bills, just some ads for local mechanics and a flyer from the grocery store. He put them back into the mailbox and drove off.

**

Five hours later, as Mary got off the plane at San Diego Airport, Jack was filling his gas tank outside Vegas. He was going east, alone.

© Copyright 2001 Poet deVine - All Rights Reserved
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
1 posted 2001-11-25 09:09 AM



Seems like more should be coming along with this story...

well written!

Lucie
Senior Member
since 1999-06-20
Posts 1077
Houston
2 posted 2001-11-28 05:55 PM


Ok.. so now.. he meets this beautiful, fabulous, interesting poetess, and ....


giggle

this was very very good.. I enjoyed.. but I wanna know the end.. tell me the end..

see.. thats why I never come in here.. you people keep me hangin.. Balladeer can tell a whole story in 12 stanza's or less.. giggle

Remember me with a smile on your face, or please don't remember me at all.


Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612
Hurricane Alley
3 posted 2001-11-28 06:28 PM


That's one of the reasons I like to write short stories...because they can have a second part or they can end and let YOU choose the ending.
Solstice Son
Member
since 2000-09-19
Posts 469

4 posted 2001-11-30 01:37 PM


grrrr....yes...I'm growling ...for many reasons....some of this hits entirely too close to home...((...umm I'd be Jack...just to clarify nodnod ))....but I like it....Vegas huh?? Hmmmmmmmmm.  

sol

" The question shouldn't be...'Why are we here?' but rather 'ARE we here? "

Leonard Nimoy


Dusk Treader
Moderator
Senior Member
since 1999-06-18
Posts 1187
St. Paul, MN
5 posted 2001-11-30 05:21 PM


Wonderful tale, deVine one! Such beautiful sadness and hardship... I loved the ending by the way, just like you said, this leaves a perfect ending with the possibilities offered, or it makes an excellent lead in to chapter 2. My heart goes out to Jack, you truly created him  

"A hard, cold wisom is required for goodness to accomplish good. Goodness without wisdom always accomplishes evil" - Robert Heinlein

LadySofia
Member
since 2000-05-16
Posts 238
FL., USA
6 posted 2001-12-04 01:57 AM


This prose just made me realize I'm glad to be back online again. It's been too long. Keep them coming, they're so deVine! One note: you should put a "had" in between "She and grabbed (her clothes)".

^_^ Ladysofia  

"The smallest feline is a masterpiece."

Leonardo Da Vinci

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