Inn The Thick Of It

“Please, stay.” wasn’t said.

“I’m sorry for hurting you.” wasn’t either.

What started out as a pingpong of words turned into a tumultuous game of Scrabble-Padel. Both husband and wife ended up battered and bruised, as tensions reached mountain tops and neither willing to see the red in the other’s red eyes or the red drool dripping from the other’s blue and purple face. Whiplashed, both fell backwards to the ground, after a 2 hour battle neither conceded to. On the floor, they lay still and flat. Both had blacked out. 

When the tenuous cloud over their eyes dissipated, both emerged, seeing a flashing light, then seeing themselves sitting on leather armchairs, all patched up with cleaned-up stitches and bandaged body-parts, but unable to move and face each other as they remained locked in a back-to-back position. Between their chairs was some metres of empty space, filled only by a third mysterious voice they couldn’t see.

“Mr and Mrs black…you both have been charged with the offence of domestic disorder, Class 2. You are extremely lucky that there are no children involved otherwise the offence would have risen to the highest Class, Class 1 - a point of no return for any unfortunate soul. Nevertheless, these charges should not be taken lightly and are still very much just as serious. So, I start by asking, how do you both plead?”

“What, wha - what do you mean? What’s going on? Why can’t I get out of this seat?” panted Mrs Black.

“That one’s guilty for sure.” Mr Black snorted as he got comfortable in his current condition.

“Oh put a lid on it would you, as if you're SO innocent.” She angrily retorted.

“SILENCE!” a tall, wrinkly, bearded man in a navy robe with a maroon stole draped over his shoulders shouted as a visual appeared on tv screens in front of them.

“We are here to put an end to this, one way or another. For a Class 2 offence we will discuss your punishment, but after this, there will be no further fighting. Do you both understand - yes or no?”

Both silently nodded their heads in quick succession.

“SPEAK!” the man shouted again.

“Yes, yeah” Mr Black said in short breaths.

“Yes, mm-hmm.” Mrs black replied with a quivering voice.

“Now, Mr Black, state your case before the court of DU.”

“Sorry, but what is DU?” Mr Black asked.

“Domestic Upholsterers.” A squeaky, high pitched voice replied from the left of the strange bearded man. It was a typical secretary-looking woman in a black suit, round glasses cliffed off the nose and brown hair tied in a crisp top bun.

“Aha…o-k…so, my case…umm, well, I guess, my wife doesn't respect me, she doesn't listen to anything I say, she has a superiority complex and, and will just do whatever the hell she wants to do and not care about me at all. Basically.”

“That’s NOT true!” Mrs. Black blurted out.

“Right, then Mrs. Black, kindly tell us your truth.” the bearded man said.

“I’m…not well. I haven’t been well for a long time, and he just refuses to listen nor does he try to understand me. It's depression and anxiety you see. Silent killers in this world. But, just because he can’t see what’s going on inside of me doesn’t mean that I don’t feel pain or that I’m not struggling. He’s perfectly healthy and takes his ease of life for granted, whereas every single day, just to wake up and crawl out of bed is a struggle for me. Especially next to such a critical and condescending person. And he just doesn’t get it, He refuses to get it! Then he undermines me, is demeaning and excessively critical of me, mocks and bullies me and shifts all blame of everything that goes wrong in his life on me, ONTO ME, ahh, I mean come on, how much can a girl take? Then he expects me to be the perfectly happy housewife he thinks he deserves, serving him trays and trays of intercontinental delicacies and picking up his dirty socks off the floor. He wants ME to work hard but doesn't know the meaning of hard work himself and I HAVE worked hard all my life, up until I got ill. He’s lazy, selfish and arrogant and thinks everything should be handed to him on a silver platter, no hard work or sweat required, no need to show any care or empathy for anyone else, just suck the life out of your wife till you get bored, then throw them away like a dried up piece of meat, because you decide there’s nothing left to suck and you can simply replace them with another fresh piece of meat, only to repeat the same damage onto another. I pity the foolish girl who will fall into his trap next.”

There was a brief pause of silence, then the tappity-tap-tap of the assistant’s type-writer went on a rampage. Mrs Black couldn’t see her husband’s expression, but she imagined he was probably smirking and indifferent to everything she had just said. This was confirmed by what he said to her next. 

“Do you pity yourself?” asked Mr Black with a tone of arrogance.

“Is that all you got from everything I just said?” his wife shaking her head, aghasted.

“I’m nothing she accuses me of,” Mr Black yelled.

“I’m nothing he accuses me of!” Mrs Black yelled back.

“ENOUGH!” the bearded man’s words echoed in the room. “Both of you will only speak now once spoken to and will not interrupt when anyone else speaks, otherwise there will be terrible consequences!”

“Oh yeah, and what have you got that’s gonna to be soooo scary?” Mr Black mocked.

Not a moment later and Mrs Black watched on the screen as a bucket load of cockroaches were dumped over his head. He started to scream. To the amusement of Mrs Black, his suffering continued as he was locked in his chair, unable to run free.

After a few minutes of his child-like screaming, the sound of a vacuum overtook the room and slowly but surely the screams died down, turning into shallow panting. 

Both were now silent and serious. After such a reprimand, she imagined that the bearded man would’ve expected nothing less.

“Now, we’re going to indulge ourselves in a little game of sorts, to see if we can quickly and effectively sort out this mess you both have created. And it is the BOTH of you who have created this mess, not anyone else, and certainly not just one of you.” The bearded man appeared now to be in his element with a great grin on his face.

“Your mutual experiences of disconnection - from each other and life - have driven you down this road. So let us try to reconnect. Both of you need to describe what you want in an ideal partner and thus your lives moving forward. You have two minutes thinking time, though I’m sure you must’ve thought about this already.”

Mrs Black nodded her head vigorously.

Mr Black let out a “Yo, you bet I have!”

“Did somebody order a bucket of gunge?” the bearded man said. Mr Black screamed like a child who had just had their favourite toy snatched from their hands as he became drenched. Some men just never learn.

After the two minute thinking time had passed, the chairs swiveled round so both man and woman were now facing each other. Mrs Black couldn’t help but chuckle though she tried her best to conceal it behind a palm. But Mr Black still noticed and not amused in the slightest, gave her a cold death-stare. 

He was then allowed to answer first, probably seeing as he was so keen to have his voice heard.

“I want a beautiful woman who takes care of herself and takes care of her responsibilities and me. I don’t want to be constantly nagged and disrespected. I want her to listen and trust me and trust that I know what I’m talking about. I don’t need her flashing her education in front of my eyes all the time, acting like she's better than me. I just need a good woman and a good wife!”

“Hmm. Noted. Mrs Black, your turn.”

“I want a partner, not just a label for the world. I was looking for someone with soul when I met him. He sold me the promise of a stoic philosopher in our first handful of meetings. But then he turned out to be a snowflake. The entitlement, the easily offended temperament, the inability to deal with opposing opinions and the general inflated sense of self - are all a package I do not wish to carry on this short journey of life, so things need to change. I want someone honest, patient, loving, kind, compassionate, empathetic, humble and generous. That’s it. Not someone who constantly keeps score and thinks it's him versus me. Marriage is a partnership, not a competition. But He never seems to get that!”

“Hmm, also duly noted.”

Mr black rolled his eyes and crossed his gloopy arms over an even gloopier chest. He still doesn’t get it. Mrs Black sighed and turned to her left to look at the bearded man and his assistant typing away with fingers that looked like scurrying mice.

“Both sides have been heard and notes have been taken. But that is not how we resolve things around here. In these parts of the woods, we put you to a real marriage-sustainability test. This test will put you both in the thick of it - quite literally. Only then will you be able to truly resolve this entanglement you both have got yourselves into. So for the next and final part of this session, myself and my assistant will be exiting this courtroom. Thereafter, your surroundings will begin to be filled with slobbering swampy mud, almost like you're in a spa mud bath.”

“What?” Mrs Black exclaimed.

“You what?” Mr Black cried.

“If you look up, you’ll see an arched opening at the top of that wall over there. That's a door. If you can successfully swim up and climb out of there, you'll find yourselves at the foot of a palatial Inn for both couples looking to spend some quality time with each other as well as singles looking to spend some quality time with themselves. Once up there, you’ll both know which category of guest you’ll fit into…”

“How?” Mr Black butted in.

“You’ll just know. Oh and it’s all expenses paid, so don’t worry about a thing once you’re in there, just worry about how you’re going to get yourselves up there in the first place. Consider this trial your final punishment from the DU and the outcome of this trial the result of how you will end up in the Inn and how your lives together will work out. See you on the other side then. Too-da-loo.”

Both mysterious figures poofed out of sight and as both Mr and Mrs Blacks’ bodies puzzlingly released from the invisible chains that were holding them down to their seats, the floor began to flood with brown sludge, just as promised.

Mr and Mrs Black both look around desperately for a way to climb up to the hole in the wall. Mrs Black spotted rope with knots she could climb up. Once there, she desperately glanced around to find Mr Black. She exhaled a sigh of relief when she caught sight of him grabbing onto a ladder. Both proceeded to lug their bodies up to their respective destinations. Speedy Mr Black was flying up ladder with the ever increasing pool of mud clenching at his ankles. By the time Mrs Black got to the rope, the mud was at her knees.

Both equally determined to get out alive and as quickly as possible, continued for some time while paying no attention to what the other was doing or facing. It felt like an ‘every man/woman for themselves’ situation. 

Fortunately, both were making good way to the door. But it was hard work, and both were also getting fatigued and moving slower and slower while the mud was rising faster and faster. They both knew that if either of them fell in, it would be a death sentence, so they were desperate to keep going.

“How you doing there?” teased Mr Black.

“Just fine, thanks.” confidently replied Mrs Black. 

But all was not fine, as just then her hand slipped and she fell a few knots down. Luckily she was able to catch back onto the rope before falling too far. The mud was now at her waist, and climbing up felt like trying to pull herself out of quicksand with arms that had just run a marathon. 

“Need a hand there?” He asked unceremoniously.

Mrs Black didn’t reply and kept yanking her legs out of the mud and heaving her body onwards and upwards. Mr Black carried on, thinking only to save himself, it seemed. 

Then, as he reached the top of his climb, his hand slipped and he too fell a few steps down, but with the mud so close to him, his fall was stopped and somewhat cushioned. 

“Careful!” Mrs Black gasped.

“I’m fine, you worry about yourself!” He replied in an annoyed tone as he grabbed back onto the ladder and climbed out of the door successfully. 

Mrs black, both emotionally and physically hurt and exhausted, managed to finally reach the door of her own accord and crawled out on all fours into a sunny grassy hillside view. But she wasn't feeling very relieved. Reignited resentment crawled her loins instead.

“So…are we going to do this thing or what?” Mr Black looked down at his wife with a chuffed expression on his face and his hands on his hips.

Mrs Black stared at him then dropped her head to the grassland. She needed a moment to catch her breath and absorb everything that had just happened and what her husband had just said to her. Squelching in muddy boots, with heaving lungs, she stood up, walked over to him until they were nose to nose, then froze tall and strong.

“No.” she said, then she satisfyingly moseyed off towards the Inn, leaving him standing partnerless, looking all confused and deflated, like she had just burst his hot air ego balloon.

She walked away from him in strides of confidence as she realised that she didn’t need him anymore. She thought she’d be nothing without him, but having just faced an incredibly hard and terrifying challenge, without his help or even the slightest expression of sympathy, she was struck with a new found self-esteem boost. Her depression and anxiety had caused her to lean on him like a crutch, even though his behaviour towards her was far from genuinely supportive and caring. In that moment however, she got the picture that she could do hard things and that too without him. She could finally let go of her crutch. And so, that’s exactly what she did. Because she was confident that now her bruised and battered body would finally heal. 

Freedom can be both sweet and sour. It comes with many revelations. When pushed into an opportunity for teamwork and mutual support, their relationship revealed a bitter yet hidden truth she had deep down known all along. And this time, she wasn't going to ignore it.

THE END