The Slide

“Anna … you know that curiosity killed the cat.”

I always hated how he said my name when he used that know-it-all voice.  Ann-ahh; nostrils slightly flared, eyes narrowed, and chin lifted so he somehow seemed to be looking down on me more than usual. God, I hated him. Had I just thought that? I remember thinking. Surely, I didn’t mean it?

“Yes, but satisfaction brought it back!”

Ha, take that! I had thought. You don’t know everything, and you can’t win every argument!

“Ann-ahh nothing can bring back a dead cat”.

I remember wanting to slap that supercilious look right off his face and grind it into the freshly vacuumed carpet. Imagining that greasy expression smearing through the perfect white of his new pride and joy, the awful shaggy rug that kept tripping me, lifted the corners of my mouth and a chuckle escaped on my exhale. Jude smirked. He must have taken my laugh as an ode to his superiority.

Just breathe and walk away. You can’t win this argument. Let it go. Every discussion we had back then seemed to end in a heated debate or a volatile argument.

It hadn’t always been like that, though. We were happy once.  Even as my stomach had clenched and my shoulders stiffened in irritation that day, the thought of what was coming had not entered my realm of thought. I wasn’t that person. I looked down on those people.

How I hated him at that moment. It had felt like a physical force; a tightly rolled ball lodged under my ribs, spinning out of control. I can’t even remember what we’d argued about. Was it about a cat? Or was he illustrating his point about something else trivial?

I wish I’d listened to him, though. Jude was right. Nothing can bring back a dead cat.

Looking back that was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. That argument about nothing, something, or a cat, started the slippery slide. It had been coming for a while, tentacles of dissatisfaction crawling through my intestines. He must have felt it too. Perhaps the frustration that started darkening his eyes had been disappointment or confusion. Maybe even helplessness. Even a sergeant major has feelings.

Perhaps that’s unfair of me. If only I could have seen the wood for the trees as they say. 

My tale begins the day after that silly argument. You need to hear my story and learn from it. Don’t climb up the slide. Don’t even go near the slide. And if you ever find yourself at the top of the steps in a moment of madness, holding the bright yellow, red, or green handles – don’t sit down and let go. Climb straight down those steps and walk away.

The exhilaration of the wind whipping through your hair and the pumping adrenalin as you whoosh down the slippery tunnel of fun is short-lived, and always ends with a jolt of reality as you fly off the end and hit the hard ground with a thump.

Jude and I were happy once. But life tarnishes the gleam of romance until all that’s left is a faint glimmer. A hint that it still exists somewhere in the world beyond the boundaries of the daily grind that your relationship has become. Real life and its endless duty and responsibility slowly suffocate the breath from love until only the bones of emotion remain.

Jude was a good man. And I loved him once. I still do. But instead of backing down those steps, I stared down the steep incline that shone bright red in the warm sun and let go with a shriek of excitement, looking forward to the ride.

We met through our children. It was a parents' information evening at their elementary school. Jude was working late, again, and I was there alone. So was Kyle. My babysitter had been delayed and I’d arrived just as Maya’s new teacher had been introducing herself. I slipped inside quietly and sat in the back row, grabbing an empty seat near the door. As I sat down, a man darted in and settled himself beside me, bumping my arm as he did so. My eyebrows lifted out of the frown as I glanced at him.

His cheeks dimpled slightly as he leaned over and whispered “Sorry. My wife’s plans changed at the last minute, and I had to rush to get here on time. I’m Sophie’s dad”.

My annoyance dissipated as my heart skipped a beat.

“I’m Maya’s mom. I was late too. I guess we’re the naughty kids in the back row”. I winced as the words left my mouth and I felt a slight heat moving up my chest.

“I guess we are”, he winked at me, and his full lips parted in a wide grin.

I don’t remember much about what Miss Jackson communicated that evening. As hard as I tried to concentrate on her words, resorting eventually to staring at her candy pink lips to help me focus, my nerve endings were on fire and all I could feel was his shoulder pressed against mine. His aftershave assailed my senses with leather and freshly cut oranges and mandarins and I bit down hard on my lip to control these unwelcome sensations. I hadn’t felt like this in a long time and my visceral reaction shocked me.

“Lovely to meet you Maya’s mom. I’ll catch you at the next one”.

Little did I know that I’d already been caught.

Although still rattled by what I’d experienced that night, my curiosity was winning against my better judgement, and I found myself lingering at school drop-off and pick-up times. Emerging out the front gates some mornings, I was rewarded with that dimpled smile as he entered the building with Sophie. Those days always seemed brighter, but I convinced myself it was the golden summer beaming down on us in all her glory.

One particularly sunny day, Maya skipped out to the car, her flushed cheeks stretched wide, barely able to contain her excitement.

“Mom, mom! Sophie invited me for a playdate on breakup day! Can I go, Mom? Can I go? Can I? Please say yes! Please Mom, please!” she begged in squeaks of excitement.

“Honey, did Sophie’s mom say it’s okay?” My own breath caught in my throat. Breathe Anna. You’re not a teenager, for God’s sake.

“Sophie’s mom said yes! Please can I go, Mom?!”

It was all arranged. Maya would go home with Sophie the next Wednesday, and I would fetch her at 5pm. Her happy squeals, as she spun around the garden with arms spread wide, reminded me again of the bubbles of excitement that had fizzed through my veins during the parents’ evening. It’s just a play date Anna, I chided myself. He probably won’t even be home when you fetch her. You need to snap out of it! But the bubbles stubbornly remained.

He was home that day. And she wasn’t. And Jude was working late again.

Now this is the part you must take note of. We all reach crossroads along this path we call life. Some are big and some are small. Some choices are obvious in their magnitude, and some are not. Good people, take heed. Don’t let curiosity sweep your common sense out with the dust. Learn from me.

Those steps shone bright red and lured me slowly to the top with promises of delight. Back then I was only enjoying the climb and not thinking about letting go. Each step brought me closer to the thrill of abandonment and I felt safe in the knowledge that I was just curious about the view from the top. I wasn’t going to let go. I was in control.

That first play date started a delicious game of hide and seek. While the girls played their innocent version shrieking with joy as they ran around the house, Kyle and I were seeking the feelings that we had unsuccessfully been trying to hide from each other.

Sophie’s mom had been invited to a last-minute conference and was away for two days, as I found out when I arrived a little before 5pm to pick her up as planned.

“Ah mommmmm”. She was her father’s child. “We’re having so much fun! Please can I stay a little longer”.

“Please Maya’s mom! Please, please, pretty please!”.

“Come on Maya’s mom”, his voice lifted slightly as his dimples grew deeper. “Let them play some more. Come have a glass of wine with Sophie’s dad and we can sit at the back of the class again … “. His innuendo hung heavily between us.

I hesitated. It had been so long since I’d experienced someone’s eyes holding mine with genuine interest. My foot moved to the second step.

“What are you pouring for us, Sophie’s dad?” One corner of my mouth lifted as I held his gaze under lowered lashes.

After two glasses of crisply chilled chardonnay bursting with the same citrus notes as his aftershave that had plagued my daydreams, I knew I had to leave. Jude would be home by then and I needed to return to the real world.

Squeezing my shoulder lightly, he opened the door for Maya and then turned to me as he pulled my door open.

“I had a good time this evening Maya’s mom. I hope I see you again soon. With Sophie I mean, of course. You, I mean, she is welcome anytime.” He paused. “So are you.” The laughter in his eyes was dulled by uncertainty and he suddenly looked vulnerable. “I mean it Anna. I really enjoyed the evening”. My name slid off his tongue like warm honey.

“Me too Kyle. I … I have to go”. I hurriedly climbed in and started the engine. Glancing at him quickly, the fuzzy warmth of the wine buzz was cooled by a sudden image of Jude’s narrowed eyes as he’d dropped his pearls of wisdom.

Curiosity killed the cat. The words settled heavily in the pit of my stomach. This wasn’t curiosity anymore.

Soon after that first evening, we met in an out-of-the-way nondescript coffee shop that we were sure nobody we knew ever frequented.

“Kyle, it’s a slippery slide. We shouldn’t even be meeting. Nothing good can come of this. I can see where this is heading. It’s a slippery slide”, I repeated in a rush.

And then, I continued to tell him, just as I am telling you, how hard it is to stop falling once you have let go. But he didn’t listen. I hope you will, though.

I didn’t listen either.

We slowly climbed the freshly painted wrought iron steps together, all the way to the top. Hands intertwined we stood on the precipice for a while admiring the vista before sitting down with our legs dangling over the summit. Finally, eyes blinded by the glare, we took a deep breath, letting go of our rails together.

The downward slide was as exhilarating as we'd anticipated. Life held so much more meaning for those brief moments as we flew through space and time together.

The ground at the bottom was harder than I could ever have anticipated. The momentum we gathered had us soaring over the bottom of the slide on one final flight of joy. And then we hit the ground. Hard. We were left dazed and broken.

Jude was right.

“Curiosity killed the cat, Anna.” Jude’s voice faltered; anger tinged with sadness. His mouth twisted as his tear-filled gaze burned into my soul. I never thought I would miss his arrogance.

“But satisfaction brought it back...” I tried to lighten my tone, to keep him here longer, but guilt choked my throat, and the comment fell flat.  

He turned from me, calling for Maya, his shoulders hunched. Grasping her hand, he straightened his spine and held my gaze over her downturned eyes.

“You can’t bring back a dead cat, Anna.” The words drifted over Maya’s swaying pigtails as he walked away taking her with him.