I’m rummaging in the hated basement. I’m going through those same boxes again. I’ve realized that when I leave, I can’t take everything with me, so I’m salvaging the things I can’t bear to part with. I do know that I’ll have to take the bus and walk to the train station. I have a bunch of old suitcases; I pick the two biggest and less battered of the pack. I clean them up and put them away, behind other junk. I find myself singing. I also have two brown paper shopping bags for toys and snacks. I put those inside the suitcases. I have butterflies in my stomach, anticipating the moment when I run from here. Michael is still holding that money for me and I give myself headaches wondering when the right time will come. You’ll know when…
I putter around a little further away, towards the other side of the basement, just to be sure I haven’t missed anything. Suddenly I freeze where I stand. There’s someone behind me…I can hear him breathing…I can’t move. My heart is galloping in my chest. He’s so close…I will myself to move and I slowly turn around. There, not five feet away, is Jeff. He’s sleeping, naked. I blush and my terrified brain registers the whole scene…and the relief floods over me. There’s no wall or anything, down here, separating the two sides of the house and he’s set up his bedroom the best he could, almost in the middle. How long has he been living down here? It’s a wonder I didn’t wake him with all my banging around and singing. I take my suitcases out of there and I run back upstairs to my place as fast as my shaky legs can take me. Why would he want to sleep down there…I hide the suitcases under the babies’ beds. I can’t take the chance that Jeff might see me and go blabbing to Sandy, who then blabs to Jonathan, that I’m down there messing with suitcases.
I don’t mention anything to anyone. Even when, a few days later, the subject turns to Sandy; while she’s back East, he tells me he wants to move. I’m not moving because he wants to run away from his little girlfriend. I tell him, he can go right ahead, but I’m staying right here. We can’t afford it anyway. I just don’t want anything to mess up my plans. The only way I’ll go is if we move right next to the train station. That would make it sooo much easier for me, when I escape.
I’ve just put the babies to bed and I’m doing the dishes, dreaming and planning. He’s running around and I have no idea what he’s looking for. He goes down into the basement and my heart starts to pound. He comes back up with some tools. He’s fixing something or other and I breathe easy. Jeff must not be down there…He goes back a second time and this time he comes flying up the stairs and grabs me asking me if I know that Jeff has a bedroom down there. I knew this was coming. “What are you talking about?” I ask. I’m sufficiently scared, for other reasons, that he lets me go. He runs back down there, runs back up with all these pieces of wood. He gets a hammer and nails. He boards up the basement door…I so want to laugh as I watch this frenzy…I could dance with joy…my days in the basement are over…
Next -> Love Hurts
Tags: butterflies, escape, naked, shopping bags, suitcases