When Realities Collide

"That did NOT happen." Marla said empathically, sending daggers through him with her blue eyes glaring.

Her hair was swept up, held in place by combs that she had picked up during one of the many travels they had. Their bone delicacy almost matched the gray of her hair.

The bird’s egg blue dress she wore did not fit her like it once did, draping in folds rather than hugging her curves. She was thinner, older, but her perfume hung in the air as it always did, and her eyes had not loss the jewel like brilliance.

"Of course, it did. You just do not remember." Jack responded with a sigh. He rubbed his temple and wondered for the hundredth time how he was supposed to keep doing this.

He was exhausted, his eyes portrayed that with the brown irises dull and red rimmed. Their puffiness relayed minimal hours of sleep over the last few months.

“Marla, please.” He said when he raised his head to meet her eyes again

"Stop it!" Marla screamed. She was near tears now and hated when someone showed up and started telling her things that were not true.

She looked at him, trying to determine who he was. He was tall, much taller than she was. His salt and pepper hair accented his good looks. He looked remarkably familiar to her, but so many people had faces that reminded her of someone she knew.

Her frustration was brewing more now, frustration with him and with herself, after she failed to be able to think of his name.

"Who are you to say I do not remember. Maybe it is you who doesn't remember." She continued watching the way he looked at her.

She hated the sympathetic look he was giving her now, as if she were a horse on the way to the slaughterhouse. Speaking of horses, what had happened to them all? Her mind wandered along that path for a moment. And why was she here now? Why was not she at the ranch. She looked around, not recognizing the room she was in. The furniture did not look like any she had seen before.

Her breathing became rapid, and she felt the tentacles of fear tracing up from deep inside her. Those tentacles were now reaching for her heart to make it race more, reaching for her mind to tickle what should have been there.

Why was she here, in this small room with the walls that seemed too close and the small bed?

"Where is your bed?" She asked him suddenly. He saw the change on her face but had difficulty with this new train of thought. He decided to go with it; just answer the question, he reminded himself.

"You know where it is Marla. You know it is at the ranch.” Jack responded.

“Why do you have me here? Don't I belong at the ranch, with you?” she asked.

He was growing more agitated with her, and himself. He knew what was coming next and hated it. These visits always seemed to end the same. He would be exasperated, and she would cry. It was the same cycle. He would leave feeling guilty for being angry and she would just be in her own little world, whatever world that was now.

She opened her mouth to talk before he could answer, but this time it was different. Different than how these conversations usually went, and it took him by surprise. "Oh yes. You left me for someone else." She said and glared at him.

"Marla, you know I never would." He said incredulously, trying to comfort her by reaching for her hand.

"Do not touch me! You are a despicable shit!" she withdrew her hand and the anger building inside her made her head throb. I am going to die with this hateful man beside me, staring at me as though I am crazy. She rose and knocked her chair over, backing away from him.

"Marla, please stop." He said quietly, still shaken that she would accuse him. Surprised, too, by the curse word. He had never heard her curse and he had known her for years.

She turned her back to him, looking out the window, crossing her arms indignantly. The bars on the window created shadows across her face, a broken mask of the woman that no longer existed. Shattered like her mind.

A tear streaked down his cheek as he watched her. How could it have come to this? How could the sweet woman he had fallen in love with all those years ago become this shell of a stranger? I am losing my mind, he thought. She has lost hers and now I am losing mine.

"Mr. Lankzie? Mr. Lankzie?" The voice startled him. He looked up at Marla, who had not moved from the window but stood transfixed like the many mannequins in his stores.

"Mr. Lankzie, I'm sorry." Came the voice from behind him again. "Visiting hours are over. It's time to go so we can help Marla get ready for bed." The aide, Sharon, stood in her rumpled uniform, dark circles beneath her eyes and hair trying to break free from the scrunchie failing to hold it in place.

"Of course. Can I have just a few more moments please?" He asked, taking a deep breath.

Sharon nodded and ducked out of the room as silently as she had entered. Jack turned towards Marla, who was staring back at him.

"Marla. I have to go." He said, wanting to gather her in his arms, but not daring too.

"Why?" She asked. The look in her eyes was different now, changed yet again. He did not know what to think. Marla stood looking like the one he met so many years ago, the high school sweetheart that had stolen his heart.

"Marla." He whispered. His heart aching.

Her head tilted to one side as she studied him. He was handsome enough, she thought. Older, but handsome. A small smile lit her face, and he took a deep breath as he saw the look in her eyes change again.

It is her, he thought, my Marla.

She reached her hand out and he took it like many years ago, bringing it to his lips to softly plant a kiss on it.

"I'm Marla." She said. He gently took her hand and kissed it. She smiled again, before asking, "Do I know you?"

His heart twisted as if squeezed by a giant hand. A tear inched down his cheek.

"I'm Jack." He responded, still holding her hand.

"Oh Jack. It is a pleasure to meet you." She responded and held his hand tighter.