Chapter 1 - Seventh Installment -

Deborah bid Mrs. Pierce good day and headed into the back yard. While gathering the supplies for the burn barrel she began to feel nauseated. Just the thought of what she was about to do was almost too much to bare. The night’s events came rushing back to her and she began to feel dizzy. With each graphic memory, the world around her seemed more and more off balance. Her head felt light and her knees weak. While trying to reach the bench that sat along the shed wall, she stumbled.
She yelped in fear when she felt a hand grab her arm. See looked up and tried to focus on who had a hold of her. Mr. Mapleton looked down at her with great concern as he guided her to the bench.
“Deborah are you alright?” The affection he felt for her was obvious in his voice. She was the closest thing to a child he had ever had and his love for her was as tender and protective as any father.
“I think I stood up too fast after bending over to pick up my gloves. I’m fine.” She covered the truth with as much calm as she could.
“Are you sure you are alright little miss?” He had called her that ever since she was a young girl. His stare was strong as he waited for an answer.
“Yes, yes I’m fine. It was just a head rush, that’s all.”
“Good.” Suddenly his tone changed and he crossed the back yard to the gate. “Because there is a lot to do today.” And then he simply left.
Although it bothered Deborah a great deal that he was acting so strangely, she was glad that he had not offered to help with her yard today. But as soon as she was done with the duties planned, she would find out why he was acting so unfamiliar.
Deborah focused on the wood box that held her darkest secrets and felt almost like a zombie as she gathered her weeds and leaves for burning. It was like being in someone else’s body as she filled the burn barrel and set it ablaze. There was a small amount of shrubbery to burn, so she quickly added her clothes and shoes. Then, promptly added the shrubs Mr. Mapleton had left near the back gate to the top of the pile. Still afraid that the leather and rubber soles would not burn, she added some wood from the wood box as well.
Deborah stood there, transfixed on the flames and smoke that seemed to carry all her pain and fear. Slowly she began to cry, then weep. Years of silent agony began to spill out of her. She fell to her knees and buried her face into her gloved hands. Her whimpers were full of anguish and anger. Nearly a decade of suffering tore through her body, racing to be freed.
Deborah could no longer hold inside the bitterness and sorrow that ate at her soul for so long. The flood of agony and guilt she was releasing caused her to choke, and she began to vomit. With each convolution, her body was released of a great weight. And when it stopped, she felt lighter, freer, and even cleaner.
She remained on her knees for some time. Her body was weak, and her muscles ached. She just sat there, listening to her own breathing. She took her time getting up. And after checking that the fire was doing its job as it slowly dwindled down, she headed inside for a glass of water.
Deborah stood at the kitchen sink and washed her tear stained face. She noticed that it felt as if she had just wakened from a very long sleep. She felt groggy and sluggish. Turning to the clock, she realized that over three hours had passed since she began burning.
Deborah rushed through the yard, putting the lighter fluid, matches, and gloves away in the tool shed. She checked the burn barrel and noted that although the rubber and leather were not disintegrated, they were, for all intense purposes, unrecognizable.
While returning the wheel barrel to Mr. Mapleton, Deborah noticed another set of neighbors from across the street in deep conversation. Deborah waved, but received what appeared to be a stern glare instead. Perhaps it was the bright sun that caused them to frown.
Mr. Mapleton greeted Deborah at the gate to his backyard. “Finished?”
“Yes. Zach, is something bothering you today?” she asked with great concern, being sure to use the shortened version of his first name, Zacharias, the way only family did. He looked her straight in the eye and twisted his mouth as if he was unsure how to answer. After a long pause, he simply shook his head.
“Are you sure? You seem … well, distracted or something. If there is something you need to talk about, I …”
He interrupted, “Nope. Sometimes things are better left unsaid.”
She noted the finality in his tone. “Oh, okay. Well I guess I will be going then.” The concern and rejection was equally notable in her voice.
“MmmmHmmm.” Was all he offered.
Not knowing what else to do, she retrieved her purse and keys from inside the house and drove to the store.
The store was very quiet, almost eerie. Deborah picked up a few needed items and headed for the check out line. While she waited, she watched a group of people gathered at the pharmacy desk. The feeling around them was dark and unapproachable. They were talking in hushed voices and she couldn’t help but stare.
“What is going on around here today Trish?” Deborah asked the check out girl, whom she had graduated high school with.
The two were not friends. In fact they were nothing, if not civil to one another. They had led to very different lives and had nothing in common.
The obviously bored and less than observant clerk blew a bubble with her gum and shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno.” Her long bleached curls bounced slightly as she rang the items up and placed them into a paper bag.
“Haven’t you noticed how strange everyone is acting?”
“Ahhh, those old blue hairs always got something to whisper about. I stopped paying attention a long time ago.” She hit the total button. “$17.32.”
Deborah handed her a $20.00 bill and noticed that through out the entire process, Trish never once made eye contact with her. When Trish handed her back the wrong change, Deborah simply rolled her eyes and took the loss.
She found it pitiful that no one ever took the time to notice how uneducated Trish was, despite her diploma. It was apparent that as long as they had a cute, blue eyed, well built, blonde to ring them up, no one cared. She served a purpose, and there was no value in giving her the keys to unlocking her potential.
As Deborah scooped up her grocery bag, Trish finally looked at Deborah. “Hey Debbi, don’t forget your purse.”
Deborah was a little confused, as she had not began to walk off with out it.“Uh, thanks.” She responded awkwardly as Trish held eye contact until Deborah turned away to leave.
Deborah waited at the park for nearly fifteen minutes before Marcy arrived with the boys. When they finally pulled up, Deborah walked to greet Parker. But Marcy grabbed her instead.
“Oh isn’t it awful? Just horrible? I am in shock, complete shock. I just can’t believe it!” Marcy was one decimal from a shriek.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“You mean you haven’t heard? My word! You haven’t. It’s Travis. Travis Myers. He’s dead! They found him in the river about two hours ago!”
Deborah went ash white and almost fell to her knees.
“I know! Isn’t it just shocking? Especially it being Travis. He had so much going for him. It is such a waste.”
Deborah grabbed Parker’s small hand and raced towards her little car. She faintly heard Marcy calling to her.
“I'm sorry Marcy, but I need to get home. I am not feeling very well.” Deborah called over her shoulder while getting into the car.
- posted by Cindy @ 1:24 PM |