by Cole Savage
“Kyle, do you remember back in eighth grade, when you found that package on your front door, after the football game that you scored three touchdowns in?”
“Yeah, of course. That was the first time I knew you liked me. It was a candy bar from the five and dime. You also picked some flowers from the Wainwright’s garden. I was excited because I always liked you and you never showed any interest.” Kyle paused to look at her.
“Yeah, Nicki— I liked you— all through elementary when I carried your books. Junior high when I did pull-ups for you in P.E, to impress you, and Franklin when I realized you were better than me, that you would never go out with an uncultured ogre like me.”
“I have a confession to make,” Nicki said putting her head down, trying to be cute, fiddling with her fingers, and Kyle interrupted.
“You mean, another one?”
“Kyle, you”-
“I already know, Nicki. Jackie Lynne told me a year later. She was mad that I didn’t call her when I got the candy... I knew you changed the note when Jackie put the box there because you were with her. You told Jackie that I was gross and you didn’t like me. The worst part was that Jackie Lynne endured all night in the woodshed for taking Fiona’s flowers.”
CHAPTER 11
It was a beautiful night even as the thunderheads rolled in. A few cars drove by, bouncing their headlights off Kyle and Nicki, creating a silhouette on the buildings as the cars came down Main. It was Tuesday night so most folks would be sleeping. The only lights on in town were at McCoy’s, the Conoco down on the end of Main, and a few street lamps on the east side of Main street.
They seemed transfixed on each other, both wondering if it would be appropriate to hold hands, but neither dared, afraid to commit social suicide. They took turns looking at each other, as if trying to say something, and you could cut the sexual energy with a knife— acting like they were in High School all over. If this were a movie, one could imagine the audience yelling at this moment: Take her hand and kiss her, you fool. A bomb could drop right next to them and they’d be oblivious. Meandering down Main, finally, he took her hand and they laughed at the awkwardness of the event. Flowing through their gaze, their power seemed strong. Kyle bent over, picked up a few stones and heaved them at a dumpster next to Cliff’s Auto Repair. Nicki didn’t remember Kyle being so affable and charming while they were married, and she was having fun hanging out with him—but the suspense was also getting the best of her. What did he mean when he said; he left his heart in Franklin? Did he still have feelings for me? She had to broach the subject subtly without being obvious, and finally, her interest prickling, she asked, “Kyle, really. Why didn’t you ever get married?”
Under an ink dark sky, Kyle stopped walking. He looked at her, took her hand and his eyes drew a single tear. In a welling of relief, he felt the intimacy of her hand. He didn’t pinch himself, he knew from the prickling of his senses that she was right there with him, in the present. The charge of contact gave Kyle goosebumps. He lifted her face to his and Kyle could feel a breeze coming off her skin, a warmth around her eyes. Kyle waited, hoping she wouldn’t see the hunger in his eyes, then finally, he peered into her emerald green eyes and said, “Because I’m still married to you.”
Nicki’s world stopped turning in an instant. Her head recoiled, her already sagging countenance drooped. The color left her face. She dropped his hand, pushed him gently back and brought both hands to her cheeks. The pure reality of that statement splashed her face like a cold surf. In his longing to hold her, hug her, to ease the constriction in his chest, she had just escaped whatever hold he had on her by reciting those five simple words.
“What do you mean we’re still married? What are you talking about, Kyle?”
“What I mean, is, I never signed the divorce papers at the Court House when we divorced.” Nicki looked at him, and a crimson heat encompassed her face, so abruptly, the effect looked violent in her eyes, and her world drained to grey impressions.
“I saw you sign it, Kyle.”
“Well— I did sign it. But I signed it Benjamin Franklin. The court sent back the papers for me to sign when they saw the error, but I never sent them back, and I never told you about it. I called Karen. I told her to throw them away when they came in the mail.”
“And she threw it away?”
“Of course, she threw it away. Karen always liked me.”
Nicki didn’t know what to say. It seemed like she needed a minute to process this. Despite her surliness, she didn’t want him to leave. She searched for words, fearing she’d be disappointed if he suddenly left.
“You, son of a bitch… You, son of a bitch.”
“You know, Nicki. It’s not that big a deal. If you still want a divorce, I’ll sign it with my real name.”
“You, son of a bitch.” Kyle felt a sudden sense of shame that was a canker in his heart.
“Nicki, listen to me. You pushed me out. I made mistakes, but there has always been one incontrovertible truth, and that is that I loved you, I have always loved you, I will always love you. From the first grade when I carried your books between classes, and high school when I took you to prom.”
“We know how that turned out,” Nicki said.
“That side of me is in the past…Nicki, look at me.” Nicki remained stone-faced, looking at nothing. “Even today I never quit thinking about you. I didn’t sign the papers because I knew you were the one for me and I thought you’d come around. I also knew if you decided to marry somebody else you’d have to call me to get a proper divorce signed, and yes, I would try to change your mind… Nicki, every girl I dated after you left, left me longing for you. Cheap superficial relationships attempting to fill a void that you left. My thirst for you was unquenchable. The first three years after you left, I was comatose. I couldn’t eat; I couldn’t sleep. Dragging my ass out of bed to face the world without the only thing that mattered. But the kicker, the thing I couldn’t deal with, was knowing you left because of the things I did. Getting you back was my motivation to get good grades, to change my ways. Your ghost was with me at the fire station, on every call and every fire. Everything I did was to prove that I could be the man you needed me to be. And you, Nicki, never taught me how to live without you, and I’m sorry that I haven’t gotten over you. I remember, Nicki. I remember every detail of your wedding dress. Your jewelry, how you wore your hair, but I should have said it. My learning curve has cost me— us— a lot.” I'm lonely, Nicki. I’m lonely. I’m tired of this bullshit, and I’m tired of wallowing in a deep dark well. For years I’ve felt how lonely and how deep this feeling runs. And it scares the shit out of me to be without you any longer.”
At each response, Kyle felt an alloy of emotion that had become familiar in the course of this day—triumph checkered with scorn. Turning her gaze to Kyle, Nicki could see the pain for her suffering and she seemed to be taking refuge in his cathartic rant. His eyes were veiled as he waited and hoped that Nicki wouldn’t sense his desperation and terrible need to purge himself of the poison embedded in his soul.
“What about the boys, Kyle. You never sent us money.”
“I’m sorry, Nicki. I was hoping to come back with my savings to woo you back. I could have sent monthly installments, but I’ll admit I was trying to squeeze you, hoping you’d call me—I was desperate. I thought you’d forgive me after a few months…When you called the other day, I was so happy, not because I thought we could get back together, I just wanted to see you again.”
“I wish I could believe you. Or maybe you just feel sorry for me because I’m dying, you ass.”
“Listen, Nicki. I didn’t come here with certain expectations. I wanted to see you—that’s all.”
“I’m not going to lie, Kyle. I’m glad you’re here, but whatever your thinking, however, you thought this was going to go. Please don’t. You can’t compress ten years of absence into two, three, or even four months— trying to repair something you think isn’t broken anymore. It’s not t
hat I wouldn’t forgive you. I’m over that. Having Cancer changed my perspective. Things I felt were important when I was healthy, instantly changed when I faced the prospect of dying. It’s not that I don’t love you. I have always loved you. I never saw your shortcomings as a flaw— you were who you were, and you weren’t willing to change for me and the boys. That’s all I saw. I never judged you for that. I get it. You had to overcome some character deficiencies I wasn’t willing to wait for. We made our beds and we have to lie in them.”
Nicki paused as a couple walking a schnauzer approached. The broken sidewalks were dark with night damp, the hills outside of town a dark gray against an ink-washed sky, and the smell of distant camp-fires covered Main Street.
“Good evening, Nicki.” “Hey, Nicki”, said the couple, a thirty-ish man wearing denim and a multi-colored plaid shirt, the woman in a long black, scoop neck, sleeveless dress.
“Hey, Paul. Hey, Shirley” The Schnauzer barked two successive times, a noise that brought Kyle out of a haze.
Nicki looked up at Kyle, Kyle looking straight ahead, mad at himself, and Nicki continued, “Don’t read too much into this. It isn’t about a life lesson where I feel compelled to punish you because of the pain you caused me. I’m not blind. I see the change in you. But in the end, it doesn’t matter. It would be unfair to you as it is for me to hash a summer romance to fulfill your emotional needs. Emotional needs that would eventually end in the Franklin Cemetery. I wanted you to change for the boys and me, not because I was dying… I get it, Kyle. Girls have always thrown themselves at you. When I pushed you out of our lives I became that one girl. The one saying you’re a great looking guy but you’re not a good guy. You spent ten years mulling it over in your mind, some longing to understand why I left, and you couldn’t believe that I left. It shattered your ego, made it tough for you to move on with dignity. Sweetheart, I have too much on my plate to even think about getting emotionally involved with you, or anybody else for that matter. If absolution is what you want— here, take it. I forgive you. But don’t do this to me, not now.”
Kyle took a seat on a bench, on the corner of Main and Second, his brows dimpled with anger, sitting with his hands locked in a tight fist, legs apart, eyes lit with quiet scorn, looking down, avoiding eye contact with Nicki, hiding the tear with his shoulder, as if crying voided his manhood. How could Nicki possibly understand the physiological riddle that she presented to him right now.
It had been dark for a while, the street light above them dimly lit, illuminating the silhouette of a circle on the pavement below them, like a spotlight at a Broadway play. Nicki pacing to and fro in front of him.
“Nicki, I’m sorry about the tumor, but it doesn’t matter to me. I mean it matters, but that’s not why I’m here. I could cut and run right now. No drama, no parades— I wish to God I could, and I wish I would have called you first. I only know that even if it’s a few months I cannot imagine another day without you. I didn’t know it was going to play out this way, but now that it has, let me be with you when you wake up in the mornings. Let me take you to your doctor’s appointments. I have an apartment spacious enough for the four of us. Forgive me for my shortcomings and come home with me.” Nicki crossed her arms and stopped pacing right in front of Kyle.
“You know Kyle, I’m very young but I’ve absorbed a lot of wisdom the last ten years. Most people get a lifetime to right their mistakes as they mature and grow old. It’s part of the cycle of life. I wish we could have spent the last ten years together— God, I wish. But we didn’t, and I can live with that. But I can’t live, in pain, knowing I would lose you again. The pain of you walking away the first time was enough for one lifetime. It’s hard to wait for something you think still exist, but it’s even harder to give up something you’ve wanted all your life and worked so hard to make work,” she said, her hand on his chest. “I got tired of looking out the front door, you son of a bitch, at the path that took you from me, while I waited every day, for three years with baited breath, for you to return down the same path. Yes, I did wait, but waiting had boundaries and I reached mine seven years ago. I’m sorry, but you kept me hanging on a thread too long. Kyle paused, looking discomfited, shifting in his seat.
“This is not the ending I imagined, Nicki. I just want to be there for you— with you.”
Kyle stood, approached her, reached for her hands while Nicki wiped her tears, still looking in his eyes. She was plainly mortified by her own tears and fighting to repress the jagged scorn of her red face. Then, out of nowhere, she threw his hands down and pounded his chest screaming, “Goddammit, Kyle. Don’t do this to me. Not now. Where were you when I needed you?”
Kyle allowed her to blister him with her hands, and when she finally stopped, exhausted, Nicki leaned into Kyle and sobbed—her head on his chest. The space hummed as the wind passed through them. Beyond the expanse of asphalt, concrete, and evergreens, God’s vernal beings wheeled under the greater vault of the sky. One yielding, the other rigid, looking for equanimity. In her pain, her vividness, in her thespian performance, she seemed to have accessed some higher frequency of emotion— a spectrum of light invisible to Kyle’s eyes. The architecture of her cheeks were glazed with tears, tears that reflected brilliantly in the moonlight. Kyle pulled a handkerchief out of his coat and wiped her tears. He held her in a tight grip, rubbing her head, smelling her hair. His eyes glazed, drowning the flames of his bitter memories. He turned his eyes against the tears, hiding the thing that made him human. Looking away, he closed his eyes so the world wouldn’t see his weakness— a world that had the strength to make him cry. Nicki turned from Kyle, her arms crossed, crying, staring into nothing, giving her a moment to absorb it all.
“Listen, Nicki. We’re still married. I have excellent insurance through the university. I don’t know if they can do anything for you, but would it hurt to try? Come up, have them look at you, no strings attached. Just friends. I promise.”
Nicki let her argument rest for a while, then turned back to Kyle, putting herself back into her ugly nocturnal world, reeling from the pit that Kyle had opened inside her, and suddenly, her new landscape was altered. She made no promises about a second opinion in Morgantown, but insisted that they see the current conditions of their lives in historical terms. Her life was a whirlwind, it was late and she needed to get Kyle back to talk to the boys. The meeting left Kyle sour— to soak in the mystery of a meeting that went sideways— disillusioned with the realm of suppositions he had made prematurely, which led from love to philosophy, and never quite back to good old fashion love. It had been a while since Kyle had to explain himself to a woman, and today, he not only welcomed it, he waited ten years for it. Kyle couldn’t explain why he hadn’t called her sooner. Part of him was afraid the truth would push her over the edge. That was how he explained his subterfuge to himself and Nicki, ten years later. Advice given to him by fellow firefighters. Advice that suited his furtive nature, but of course they’d never seen Nicki and couldn’t understand Kyles compulsion for the one that got away. My destiny didn’t lie in the cosmos,” he thought about a quote he had read. “or even in my gallantry. It lay in my ability to recognize a gift when it was placed in my hand the first time.
CHAPTER 12
Nicki decided that Kyle would come first thing in the morning to get the boys, since it was already three o’clock in the morning and the boys would be sleeping. Kyle drove to the gravel road by Karen’s house, where they sat for a few moments. His night had not gone as planned. He sat motionless, clearly broken-hearted. There was a perversity in the silence, a gaming of discomfort as he struggled to speak, to say anything that might salvage the moment. Whatever gave way for Kyle tonight, his moment of redemption had passed, so he took the silence, and her morose look, as a queue to leave. He leaned over, gave Nicki a light kiss on the cheek and said goodbye. Nicki stepped out of the car, leaving him torn in half, allowing him his sour grapes for the moment, and he watched her ramble up the gravel drive, defying h
er to leave, knowing what was happening between them was more significant than anything he had ever experienced in his thirty years of living on the planet. He got out of the car, put his hands on the roof and admired the stars, waves of panic breaking over him, but Nicki didn’t stop, she turned and gave him a smile, wiping misty eyes that glittered from the light of the moon. Fifty-feet away, looking at her back, Kyle said loudly, in voice totally devoid of color, “Nicki, the past is behind us.” She kept going—never turned around. He wanted to run after her, wanted to claim her as his before all the world, but couldn’t, he lost that right ten years ago.
Kyle slammed his hands on the roof of the car several times, ashamed of his weakness, having visualized this moment for ten years, and just when he thought the stars had aligned for him, Nicki drowned him in his own guilt. Even Kyle couldn’t deny the shift in atmosphere. He shook this line of thinking off instantly, and its appeal to his reptile brain that got him to this point in the first place. He waited for Nicki’s shadow to cross the porch light.
“Damn it”, a more comprehensive defeat was scarcely imaginable. He jumped in the driver’s seat and watched Nicki’s figure fade into the house, a lively young woman who under kinder circumstances might have accompanied him on the remainder of his journey. At this fateful instant of her life, right before his eyes, the girl whose warmth and lovely form he will never embrace and cherish, is vanishing forever, and he seemed astonished at the violence of his loss.
Whether you like Kyle or not, his isolation looked painful. Neither scenario he had presupposed came to fruition today, and he would have to ride all the way to Harman by himself, left to the mercy of his bitter thoughts. A woeful and cynical wanderer who could neither correct the mistakes of his past or live with the consequences—faced with the close of another year without the touch of his wife’s hand. Paradoxically, in the past, this kind of reflective moment took him to just one place— an alcohol-soaked excursion into a deep black hole, lit by the flames burning inside him, where he always knew what lay beyond the next corner, a place where violence governed his thoughts, and enmity always had its way.
