FICTIONAL SHORT STORIES TO INSPIRE THE SOUL...
Visit www.christinwebb.com for details about her first published novel, Enough Time.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
"Cup Runneth Over?"
What makes a person tick? What are the triggers that allow a person to see life outside of the tunnel vision they are so often conformed to because of the level of comfort it can often be perceived to possess? How often do we know that the situations we continue to wade within are more detrimental to us than the unknown of distancing ourselves from the complacency? At some point, actions occur in life that allows and sometimes forces insight or empowerment to take control of the driver’s seat and lead ourselves out of that comfort zone. While Joanne’s turning moment has many ideas left to the unknown, it is the fact that the moment came, it was seized, and she found herself more liberated than she could have imagined. Some comfort zones aren't as comforting as we believe.
“Joanne, I believe I asked you not to leave my keys in the garage door, ‘hun? It can’t be that difficult to remember something so important like this. It’s just not safe,” Herbert spoke to his wife of twelve years. She was a meek woman with the courage of a giant. This was particularly true when it came to her tolerance of Herbert.
“I forgot, baby. I’ll do better about remembering,” she responded in her soft spoken tone with her head lowered as if ashamed of not abiding by his rule. Herbert did have a point about the safety of his household as it involved leaving the key in the garage door. However, it was the way in which he tried to make Joanne feel about her actions. She was often belittled, emotional tormented and reminded that he was the one with the control.
“Yeah, I bet you will,” he continued. “Have you seen the kids today? I wanted to let Kendel know about the grades I got in the mail last week. I wasn’t pleased, Joanne. We’ve got to talk some sense into that girl. She’s going to throw her entire college career away constantly making average grades. It’s just unacceptable!” he went on. “Didn’t I tell you to get her hooked up with a tutor for her Chemistry and Biology classes? Didn’t I, Joanne?”
Without turning her slumped back from the stove she was preparing dinner, she cleared her throat and spoke, “I did as you asked, Herbert, but she refused to attend the sessions I scheduled. Remember I asked you to talk to her about it. I’m assuming maybe you just haven’t had the time to do so. I just left it alone.”
“What are you trying to say, Joanne? I dropped the ball?!?!” he began in anger. Herbert was a broad shouldered, 6’3”, 270 lbs man. Even when sitting in a chair, his tall and dominate stature was intimidating to even the most aggressive man; let alone his small framed wife. He began walking towards her from the kitchen table as she continued to mix her spices for the chicken she was baking. As she felt him get near, Herbert tightly grabbed her by her long, silky hair with his fist and pulled her closer. Before he could turn her around, she gained enough strength to take the red pepper, garlic, and oregano spices she was mixing, thrust it into his eyes, and made a run for the front door.
Overpowered by the unsuspecting weapon, Herbert fell to the ground, crawling to find the sink or closest water available. It was in that moment that Joanne also discovered her ability to actually show her strength. Heck, she was realizing for the first time in her marriage she had strength. As she began to feel empowerment running through her veins, she ran towards the kitchen, grabbed the largest frying pan she could find in her rage and began to repeatedly strike Herbert. She began to yell and scream her feelings to him as she had never attempted.
“How dare you think you could continue to treat me like you do, Herb! I’m sick of it. No more! No more!” she continued as tears of released pain fell from her cheeks. “You will not hurt me! You will not hurt the children! The time has come, Herb! I will always remember the times you would drag me to the balcony and threaten to take my life. All twenty-eight of them! Why, Herb? You did it because YOU ARE insecure with yourself. I will always see the residue scars on my back, neck, arms, legs, and face that you placed upon the woman you said you loved. And how will I ever forget the night Natalie, Justin, and Kendel watched you rape me repeatedly as I begged and pleaded for you to have mercy on my life? I won’t Herbert! No more pleading! No more begging! I won’t put up with it anymore. While I will try to forgive, I won't forget. You’ve damaged me, the kids, and for sure yourself!” She had finally found her cup running over. As she walked out the door, she felt she was finally walking away from her despair; from her struggle, yet walking towards her new, freed life!
Written by Christin Webb