Cricket Chirps

A single word cut through the quiet that had settled around us.

“Satellite,” my father said, eagerly extending his arm upward.

He always pointed to them as they passed. Tiny specks floating through the dark expanse, out of nowhere and into nothing. My eyes watered a bit as they searched hurriedly across the path his finger traced.

“I see it,” I said, matching his hushed excitement.

We followed it as it steadily made its way into darkness and disappeared, holding our gaze for a second or two even after it had.

Minutes passed, an hour or so maybe, with moments of silence and moments of conversation intertwined. I heard the click of the flashlight and watched the beam stretch upward into the night. He talked about that light reaching space and how far it might go and how quickly it might get there. We spotted a planet and decided that it must be Venus not Mars. I shared elementary school facts; how hot the sun is and how far the moon is. Talking and listening and hearing the sounds of tiny creatures in the summer night. All these things I remember. But, more than that, I never wonder if I am remembering things as they were. 

  I had always known these memories must be cherished and cherish them I do. But, ultimately, they became like old photos in an attic: never thrown out, but always stored away. 

They are present with me now though, as I stand here at my front door. The man I married 10 years ago stands 10 steps behind me. Why had he fallen behind?  Maybe our discussion minutes earlier had flipped a switch. Was he seeing things differently? I had to know. I turn around and as my eyes adjust to the dark I see that he is not looking at me.   

“It’s a beautiful night,” he says, “look at all those stars.”

I walk towards him, turn my head up, and agree.

“Reminds me of back home,” he continues. The moonlight lets me see his eyes and I catch the moment they begin to glisten.

Minutes pass. Again, as it often has with us over the years, the silence waits too long to be broken. We stood motionless, only hearing the rustle of leaves and chirping of crickets.

“What are you going to do?” I ask.

The wind seemed to carry my words away. I wondered if I had spoken them. I shift my gaze downward as I wait for him to speak, though I am sure I will not receive an answer.

“Does it matter? It looks like you have your mind made up.”

 I nod my head in acceptance. I believe the time has come to admit defeat. Though heartbreaking, there is no hope to reconcile if both have not resolved to do so. Still, I decide to look up one last time. 

“Orion,” I whisper, pointing towards the south, though his eyes never shift. 

I lower my hand and stare ahead. Countless unknowns stare back. I think of the questions people will ask, and the answers I will give. The expression on my mother’s face when I tell her. When she wants to know what happened, what will I say? Honestly, it would be misleading to answer with a list of errors and misbehavior's, and it was not even the instance of infidelity. Not really. All these may be forgiven. The problem is that my forgiveness or lack thereof is of no interest to him. A chill runs through me and the trees rustle as if reading my thoughts.

 Then, abruptly, a brazen event made for just this moment. All the despair and anguish and emptiness that had been felt for years, was in this moment not felt. The exhilaration and excitement and joy that had not been felt, was felt all at once. All this I came to know when a brilliant white light suddenly streaked across the night sky. Without a thought in my head I let out a gleeful shout. It is amazing how long an array of emotions can lay dormant, without being thought of or missed until reawakened. 

 I turn to look at him. I can see his silhouette, but his expression remains concealed. What a shame, to miss out on his wide-eyed amazement. How I envision his expression of child-like wonder will be my memory of him in this moment.

A rush of energy had filled the atmosphere, I felt it lingering, waiting to be absorbed. If something was to be done, now was the time to do it, to say it. If I felt it, he must too. I need to gather my thoughts and allow him to gather his. As I had done so many times before, I contemplate how to begin. What have I not yet said? My mind races wildly, searching for the answer, the one that will make things right. The silence weighs heavier with each passing second. The seconds soon turn to minutes. Shortly, the energy that was will dissipate. Another admission of defeat will follow and all, once again, will be lost. 

I raise my eyes heavenward. At least there is this. As I search through the maze of beauty, I notice something in the distance; not brazen or brilliant but climbing steadily. A tiny spec is floating through the dark expanse. I watch as it continues gradually up, and then across. I follow it as it passes overhead and continues into darkness. I keep gazing even after it disappears. He did not seem to notice at all.

The silence remained, but now had turned into a kind of weightlessness. A permeable calm that I stepped through as I walked back to the doorway.  

“Marrying you was a mistake.” 

The words dispersed through the air, each rising and falling with the wind, slowly but surely making their way towards me. I might have out run them had I not hesitated a moment earlier at the sound of his footsteps approaching. I turned around to see he was only inches away. He looked at me for a moment before again turning his eyes upward. 

“It’s so beautiful,” he said loudly.

“You say that like you think it’s what you’re supposed to say,” I tell him.

I finally cross the threshold as he laughs at me. I turn to close the door and he is laughing harder because I think I am smarter than I actually am. I can still hear him as I walk towards my bedroom. I open the window and his voice echoes in the distance. Soon, however, quiet begins to settle all around as the sounds of tiny creatures drown out all else. And I keep listening for them even after they fade to nothing.