Mardi was looking out at the snow accumulating in the drive, fluffy flakes and then heavy, almost sleeting. Her upper lip curled as the wet flakes hit the ground. The driveway was almost covered. She’d have to call the man to shovel if it got deep and then they’d have to wait and not get out until past noon, which meant she’d have to make lunch and probably put a load of laundry in…..
Spiraling and fluttering like punch drunk teenagers, here came the snow! Another winter, another white landscape to navigate.
The TV changed channels, interrupting her reverie. Gray, in his chair, had found political commentary again.
She grabbed the remote. “You can’t watch that.” Graves reacted only a little.
“I just like the talk, you know that.” Gray crossed his arms. He was wearing a plaid flannel shirt lined with fleece. He was always cold nowadays.
“Boy, it’s piling up,” he said. “We gotta be able to get out. How we gonna get out?”
“We don’t have anywhere to go, and you certainly aren’t driving. Here, watch the soaps.”
The snow continued, the flakes gathering size, their weight pulling them down faster to the driveway, which was now covered.
At the doctor’s recently they’d tested Gray. The new doctor was very nice.
“So personable,” she told their daughter. The daughter wanted to come to the appointment but lived too far away. Their son was busy commuting between Albany where his kids were and Boston for work.
“He was great with dad, you know, didn’t make him feel….just asked him stuff you know, like who’s the president, what year is it…”
There was a score they gave. “Out of 50, your dad got 15.”
“I did pretty good, huh?” Gray said after, settling a hand on each knee.
“Well now, I was hoping you’d do a bit better than that. You got a 15, so let’s see…” the doctor said.
Graves couldn’t follow the story. It was short term memory that was the problem.
A brain scan showed no irregularity at the next appointment.
It did show a lump, benign, at the base of his skull.
“Gray can you remember if you’ve ever been in an accident? How you got that lump?”
“It was on the Common, in 1957, me and Tony Furlano and the gang were skating and I fell. Almost knocked me out.”
The doctor looked at Mardi, who made a face. Sure he could remember Tony Furlano from when he was sixteen but couldn’t bring his plate into the kitchen. There was nothing wrong with Gray. Even the scan said that.
Every day she was cleaning, doing laundry, cooking, just like always, except now she was counting his pills, double checking the bank account. Buying a door at the Home Depot to replace the one with the broken lock. Storing Christmas decorations, mounting the bird feeder. She insisted he drag out the trash and recycling once a week.
Shoveling was a no-no for Gray since he’d collapsed in the driveway of the old house a few streets over. After that they tried a retirement community but people upstairs walked across the wooden floors in high heels at all hours of the night. And when they moved to a second floor unit, someone kept poking a broom at the ceiling to get them to be quiet.
In the kitchen Mardi remembered the Common. Maybe she was there the day he bumped his head? It was a huge skating rink in the middle of town. They had a warming house and hot chocolate and you could rent skates. It was safe and there were no threats, not like nowadays. Kids were snatched off the street, and someone knifed at Clapp Park, the one with the big hill that Gray used to take the kids down on the plastic toboggan. It was Gray who loved to take the kids. He’d give a running start and then hop on the back, “Whee, baby doll!” And the kids would squeal. They’d go so fast the sled would keep going until it almost met the road. The kids could barely stand it they were so giddy.
After lunch, Mardi put the sliced bread away and wrapped the cheese and ham. She poured the leftover soup into a plastic container and put it in door of fridge. She washed the few dishes and then took off her apron.
“Come on, Gray. We’re going out.”
She wanted to see the Common again. She’d do anything to not have to stay at home again, not going out, not going anywhere, her friends were dying, was this her life? He couldn’t find the pizza house the other night when she sent him to get dinner. Who knows how long they had?
Gray was squinting at the TV like it was far away, arms still crossed.
“Gray! Get your shoes on. We’re going for a drive.”
“What? Where?”
“You can’t sit in that chair all day. You have to move. The doctor said exercise helps.”
She backed up the Subaru onto the main road.
“Watch the curb, Mar.”
“Gray! I know how to drive. Now put on your seat belt.”
They went down the hill, past the hospital, and onto North Street, where gangs hung out at the Tractor Supply. The old England Brothers Department Store was now a bank. A few restaurants hung on, and a new cinema. She wouldn’t go to a movie there if they paid her. Probably get shot coming out.
Mardi took a left onto Second Street and they passed the Highland Restaurant where they’d gone with the kids when they were younger. It was affordable and had good spaghetti dinners.
Through the stop light, down another hill, and they were across from the Common.
It was now an abandoned park with overgrown weeds and part of a chain link fence. Blowing along the new snow were a McDonalds wrapper, a plastic 7-eleven cup, a Styrofoam takeout container. Across the street was The Elbow Room, where they went with couples when they were just dating and newly married. God knows, some crook probably ran it now.
She eased into a parking spot.
“Where are we going?” Gray said. “I can’t walk, you know my legs hurt.”
“Come on, Gray, you’re fine.”
They wandered around the park a bit. Mardi picked up some pieces of trash and put them in the receptacle, a green painted steel barrel.
There was good solid pack on the ground, like the old days, when snow covered the streets and it stayed that way all winter. That never happened now. One day it was warm, then it froze. Not steady and consistent, like today, a few more flakes freshening everything up. Like doing a small load of laundry, and topping off the drawers with clean clothes.
She’d walked into the bedroom one day recently and found Gray staring at a calendar.
“What are you doing, Gray?”
“Just checking some dates. Let’s see here…”
He came out a few minutes later worried he was later for the doctor.
“Gray! This is the calendar out here. Remember? We put all the doctor’s appointments on it. Give me that one.” She had to tug it out of his hands.
Their daughter’s birthday was on the wrong day. She threw the calendar out.
The Subaru rolled down onto North Street again. Her route was around town and then maybe to the mall for a coffee. But the sun was coming out, cracking through the sky of cotton wool. The flakes dispersed and a few shards of bright sun slashed through. Mardi’s heart surged.
She pulled onto a side street and didn’t recognize where they were. It was dark and one-way. She couldn’t turn around, she’d have to back out. Gray was quiet, arms crossed and staring as if calculating a difficult math problem. Mardi slung the car into reverse and inched back until she heard a crack.
“Mardi, watch the curb!”
Mardi put the car in gear and got out to find a pile of junk in front of a house that she’d run into. There were mounds of plastic bags and a pile of toys that included a faded orange plastic toboggan, the source of the sudden crack. It wasn’t broken, she’d just nipped a corner. The yellow rope for steering was still intact.
She opened the hatch and tossed it in. She inched out onto the road and sped through the intersection and down by the old middle school across from Clapp Park.
“C’mon,” she said.
Gray looked confused but followed.
At the top of the hill, Mardi got on the back and wrapped her arms around Gray, who was now in control of the action.
“Ready?” he yelled, over the flurries blowing over them.
“Go, Gray now! Now! Now!” Mardi burst out laughing.
Gray steered and they whooshed down the hill, bumping along. It hurt more now, she would be in agony later. Would she even survive it?
“Hold on, baby doll!” Gray shouted.
And she did.
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
0 comments