Eloquent Silence

by Weise, Margaret

  I can’t go on like this. I simply can’t, she thought, sensing the impending end of the doomed relationship and wondering how she could safely leave and take her children to sanctuary without causing him to seek her out and take his revenge on them.

  Sometimes when the tortured aspect of her life became too much for her she walked outside to take a break. He never failed to come after her immediately and herd her back into the house like a cattle dog herding up its charges.

  Sometimes at night when the children were asleep and he ranted or droned on interminably at her, she took to the streets, running frantically through the night, hiding in an empty paddock down the road from the house. He never failed to drag the children from their beds and drive around until he found her, roaring the car through the long grass until he located her. Many times he resorted to hauling her parents out of bed as well in the middle of the night to check if she was at their house.

  One way and another he always forced her home from her hiding place, wherever it might be and ordered her to get into the double bed and take her sadistic medicine. The reason she returned with him had only to do with her motherhood.

  Tears were shed and shared with her parents should he find her at their house. He congratulated himself on making her return to the marital home, never failing to realize she went because of three little souls lying half asleep in the back seat of the car. For years her return had nothing to do with her feelings for him.

  After he had succeeded in getting her into the marital bed and doing what he had to, they would lie there in the dark, all alone and hating each other. Annie had heard the ancient maxim that love and hate were two sides of the one coin but for her this platitude no longer applied. She could not forgive, nor could she forget.

  Her soul, falling apart, was burning to ashes.

  The train wreck was just over the next hill.

  Time for a change of tactic, Conrad decided as they were side by side in the kitchen after the latest brutality. He knew he wasn’t winning any trophies as the world’s greatest husband. By this time her eyes were puffy and red, her nose running miserably.

  ‘I love you, Annie. Do you believe me?’ Tears welled into his china blue eyes, rolling down through the dust on his cheeks. He reached for her but she moved further away, trembling at the thought of his touch, freezing to the core of herself.

  ‘I believe you, Conrad,’ she answered with resignation. Once again he had knocked the wind out of her, literally and figuratively. He was so adept at the swift slap that she never saw it coming until the deed was done. An innocent remark about a job of work for him to do had brought out his worst side, the side that lurked just beneath the surface, longing to hit out at her for the slightest reason. Where did such rage come from?

  ‘You love me too, don’t you?’ he implored her guiltily.

  ‘Mmm,’ she answered almost inaudibly. She hated his acne-scarred skin, his contemptuous attitude, his barely-controlled rages and eruptions of uncontrollable temper. She hated his outbursts of violence, the impotent anger he stirred within her, the shame she felt at being part of each and every debacle She loathed the indignity of her children seeing her trying to defend herself, the humiliation of knowing the neighbors heard the ranting and raving and screams of the terrified children. Left behind in the wake of all this impotent sorrow was just pure unadulterated grief.

  Could anything be salvaged from this mess? He had adamantly refused to go to marriage guidance counseling with her, saying there was nothing wrong with him and the way he acted. This was the way people lived and she had better learn to accept the truth as told by him. She was the one at fault.

  Stunned by this latest outburst of temper, she had no reply to his accusations. Always of a strong Christian faith, she no could no longer detect any presence of God in what was left of her soul. Layer by layer it was peeling away like the layers of an onion until all that would be left would be a useless core.

  How could I help but love you? she wondered to herself in answer to his eager question. Who would not find you the most lovable of husbands? She stood still, frozen, waiting for him to make the next move knowing that, as always, he would be ready to cut her dead with a quick sneer. But this was not to be his tactic on that particular occasion. He made a few hasty, jerky, meaningless gestures while gathering up his words for the next onslaught.

  ‘Say it. Say you love me, say you forgive me,’ he begged, his hangdog attitude completely changed into one of sorrow and remorse. Suddenly he was overcome by guilt, rising to gather her to his side where he sat at the table.

  Annie continued to stand silently beside him as he turned to engulf her in his arms, burying his head against her stomach. Oh, yes, flashed through her mind with an internal gasp of sheer fright, the stomach with the time bomb in it, I think. She could feel his tears on her hand where it rested as lightly as possible against his shoulder.

  ‘Say it, Annie,’ he repeated emotionally. She could smell his sweat, a sharp, strong male smell, unpleasant in its staleness. He was slobbering into her skirt and she was revolted. Knowing if she did not agree to how much she loved him, he would be off at a tangent again, a whirling dervish in the little blue and white kitchen in Bergen Street.

  ‘I love you. I forgive you,’ Annie whispered resignedly, unemotionally. Cut to the quick, she would not let on to him how much he distressed her, so she smiled at him. But her eyes were cold with a chill that was hard to remove now, even on her best days and she was full of emotions that she could not afford to let loose. Her pulse was hammering in her head as she fought to regain her composure.

  Anything to get the scene over with. Silently, she thanked whatever God there might happen to be that the children had been too wrapped up in the television program hear the ruckus. Either that or they were too afraid to appear. Who knew? At least they were not crying audibly, a blessing in itself.

  The important things were unsayable between them. She did not have the words to convince him that she was unable to live like this after coming from a home where voices were never raised in anger and blows were not dealt out willy nilly. Nobody called the other derogatory names or stooped to violence in order to control.

  Although she had tried numerous times to tell him this was not the way of life she was used to, he merely sneered and told her it was time to get used to it. This was the way the world turned. She felt betrayed and helpless, consigned to a life she could not bear.

  She knew in her heart of hearts that he would not support her decision with regard to the pregnancy, would not be on her side no matter what road she chose to go down. The choice would be hers to make and God help her whichever choice she made.

  If she had a disagreement or a difference of opinion with a neighbor or a friend she could guarantee he would take the other person’s side, going against her in any possible way. This was a source of great satisfaction to him, just another way for him to keep her in her place.

  Just like he relished going against her in whatever matters she told the children they could or could not do, could or could not have. He was triumphant when he opposed her in either forbidding or allowing her decisions in direct opposition simply for the sake of undermining her attempts at being a competent parent. The children did not understand the emotional complexities of the situation. They only knew that whatever their mother had decided, either for or against, their father would give directly opposing views. And, as children have since time immemorial, they made the best of this.

  As for his failure to support her in and difficult matter that arose, she recalled a time when the girls had been little a few years previously, she sent them to Sunday School each Sunday morning. They loved this little outing in their frilly dresses and their lace-trimmed hats. Whether they absorbed any religion beyond the very basics, Annie was not sure but she hoped they were learning about kindness in the outside world, tolerance and acceptance from other people besides herself.

  Before long their two cousins of a similar age,
Kate and Molly, daughters of Conrad’s sister, Erika and her husband, Max Brown, had made it known that they would enjoy the getting of some religion as well.

  Sandy-haired and ruddy-faced with a little beer-gut beginning to grow, Max used to bring his daughters to town while Erika stayed home with her other smaller daughters. Very generously, Max offered to collect Annie’s girls and take them to the church. Then he would return to have a coffee with Annie while all the little girls partook of religious instructions, a little social activity organized in the name of a family outing.

  This worked well for a little while but as the weeks went by, Max became more and more friendly until, almost bursting with friendliness he informed Annie,

  ‘While the kids are all away it would be a good time for you and me to have a little cuddle and get to know each other a bit better. We’d have the best part of an hour. Conrad’s always off playing cricket or golf or bowls. Who’s to know?’

  He sidled up to her ponging of stale sweat and maleness, his heavy face darkened with blood. She took one look at his big crooked teeth and for a moment her mind went blank with horror. His straggly whiskers hid a weak chin and an indifferent face.

  But the main abhorrence she felt was towards the fact that he was her brother-in-law. Nor was she about to give Conrad any further ammunition for his regular fits of jealousy.

  ‘Do you think I’m crazy, Max,’ Annie replied haughtily. ‘Come to think of it, are you crazy?’ She threw her hands up in disbelief that any man could be so stupid as to foul his own nest in this way. But then, Max had never shown a propensity for much nous. Not the brightest light in the chandelier, are you, Max, Annie thought as she stared at him in disgust.

  ‘Just our little secret, Annie. Come on. Be a sport.’ He placed a weather-beaten hand on her shoulder as she passed him to go outside and be visible to anyone passing by the street should he not desist.

  ‘No way. Give over or I’ll tell Conrad and Erika. You’d better be getting down there to pick up all those little girls. Just remember I’ll rat on you if you don’t call a halt to this foolishness.’ Annie was nervous about the whole incident, aware that Conrad had never taken her side in any matter and would not be about to start now with one of his family.

  Unfortunately this threat was not enough to make Max pull his head in. Each Sunday morning the sham was repeated until Annie could take it no longer and informed Conrad.

  Hopefully, he would have a quiet man-to-man talk with Max and put an end to the whole shemozzle.

  However, Conrad was not of the disposition to take the easier way offered and slammed out the door. He thumped noisily down the steps and banged the door of his pickup as he prepared to back out of the yard at a million miles an hour. Off he went to confront Max in front of his wife, Conrad’s mild-mannered sister, Erica.

  Before long he came storming home, throwing himself down in front of the television. He refused to speak to Annie, clutching the television remote control in his big-knuckled, grimy hands fresh from working on the machinery in the yard.

  The phone rang and she answered, knowing already that she had been assumed to be in the wrong.

  The usually placid Erica was furious with her and siding with her ever-loving Max.

  ‘Conrad said you said Max propositioned you. How dare you stoop to such lies? You’re nothing but a bloody little troublemaker. Max won’t be picking your children up for Sunday School in the future, you can bet your life on that.’ Bang.

  ‘Who was that on the phone?’ he asked rudely.

  ‘Erica. She seems to have taken the attitude that I’ve been leading Max on until he got a bit excited and let him make a fool of himself.’ Annie was grossly mortified as of all the family, Erica was the one she had the most time for. Now Erica would look at her in the light of being a scarlet woman and their relationship was as good as ruined.

  ‘I told you I wouldn’t put up with any nonsense,’ Conrad said through the usual clenched teeth. ‘You’d better apologize to Max and Erica for causing him to step out of line.’

  ‘In a pig’s eye I’ll apologize,’ she snorted on a wave of disgust.

  Thank God for that thought Annie as she slunk away to lick her wounds. Tried and found wanting as usual. Always the one in the wrong. Always take the side of the opposition, Conrad, that’s a good husband.

  Distant flashes of similar experiences ran through Annie’s head as she waited to be free to move away from her captor. She shifted uncomfortably from leg to leg as she felt his head on her abdomen, myriads of thoughts and memories rolling through her mind as she tried to think of a way to go on living this horrifying life. Her mouth smiled at him in forgiveness but her eyes despised him.

  ‘Jesus, I love you and the kids,’ he sobbed, his voice cracking as he held his bull-necked head against her and moaned in sympathy with himself.

  ‘I know,’ she whispered bitterly. And all I feel for you is fear and loathing.

  ‘You mustn’t leave, Annie. If you do it will cost the partnership a lot. I will have to write you off as a partner and I’ll have to pay a lot more tax if it’s a single income. And were in partnership, also, with Arnold and Bertha. It would cost them big bickies, too. Arnold would be livid.’

  Where he previously been enjoying his regular tantrum, suddenly he had realized that the letting off of steam he indulged in so compulsively could cost him serious money. This was a different matter, one to be regarded as noteworthy.

  ‘Do you think for moment that will keep me bound and gagged for the rest of my life, Conrad? It’s not worth it to me,’ Annie told him, backing away out of reach.

  ‘Obstinate bitch.’ His temper again flared, but she was out of reach and running around the back of the house to where he would not find her until he had cooled down a little.

  She was afraid that he was one of the ones who loved their wives so much that they had to resort to killing them in order to control them.

  What he attempted to do, what he thought he achieved best; was to wreck her and then try to make it all right. To build her up into a whole human being again, perhaps even built up enough to believe that things would improve, stabilize, normalize.

  Each time he appeared to think he had made it all right, but every time was a step further towards the train crash.

  Every time he simply took another slice out of her soul until there was little of any worth left.

  Later, when she thought it was safe, she returned to the kitchen to find he had settled down. Her face was damp, swollen with crying and flushed with distress. He saw none of this, but smiled at her lovingly.

  ‘Hi, sweets. You were a long time out in the lavatory. Will be good when we get an indoor toilet. Should be next year, they say.’

  Tongue-tied, she tried to move warily past him and could think of nothing to say to him. He grabbed her firmly and planted a kiss on her tear-stained cheek.

  ‘Tonight’s the night, hey, Darls?’

  He bathed while she perched in the compulsory position she was forced to take when the mood was upon him, sitting on the side of the bath tub. This was his ultimate sign of approval—to invite her to watch him bathe. For the rest of the night she would be the world’s greatest wife and mother.

  Later, he made numerous phone calls to his customers. He ate his dinner and actually praised the onion gravy. All was well for that night. The moment had passed and been lived through. He had intercourse rapidly, unemotionally, then he slept contentedly, the sleep of the just man who has done a good day’s work as an admirable husband and father.

  At 2a.m. he woke and reached for Annie, shaking her by the shoulders to wake her from her deep slumber. This was one of his less endearing traits, to wake her from a deep sleep for intercourse no matter how difficult her day had been.

  Her long brown hair fell in a heavy sweep across her face. Surprised and still half asleep, she asked, ‘What’s wrong?’

  Nausea hit her like a hammer. She leapt out of bed and ran to the bathroom, violently ill
for the third time in as many days.

  She washed her face and drew a clean nightgown over her thin, gaunt body. After bearing her children she had been softly rounded but her plump healthiness had disappeared as a result of the ever-increasing anxiety and strain.

  ‘What’s the matter with you now,’ Conrad asked in disgust as she crawled back into the double bed.

  ‘I don’t know. Must be something I ate,’ she told him briefly as she pulled the bedclothes over herself. She felt an irrational desire to burst into a fit of the giggles. If only it was something I ate! How easy that would be.

  ‘Come on. Let’s get on with it,’ Conrad said, slipping his hands beneath her nightgown.

  ‘Oh, no, Conrad, not now,’ she pleaded, trying to turn her back on him as further waves of nausea threatened to engulf her again.

  He held her firmly to him and began to kiss her roughly, his stubbly chin rubbing hard against her bruised mouth and cheek.

  ‘My mouth’s still sore from that clout you gave me,’ she said, pulling away as best she could.

  ‘I told you not to mention that again. Come on, love. Don’t just lie there like a log! Let’s have a little smooch,’ he persuaded, tugging at her shoulder. His voice was sharp, irritated. She should know by now that he must be obeyed at all times, but especially in the bedroom.

  ‘Leave me be. I’m sick,’ she begged, starting to cry, knowing he was utterly heartless and would not give up easily. Now was definitely not the time for a sparring match, the moment to tell him of the suspicions she had about a new life. She was cold and sick and doubted if she would be able to get back to sleep easily.

  ‘Christ, you’re a selfish bitch,’ he concluded as he flung himself over onto his side.

  With an overwhelming sense of relief, Annie turned her back on him. It’s as if he must defeat and demolish me, she thought sadly. Insane control freak, unfortunately.

  ‘Who are you saving it for?’ he yelled into the darkness, waking David in the next room.