'MOVING DAY' A SHORT STORY

Barbara Calkins is a former resident of Key West, a graduate of Key West High School, and on the second phase of her life. In the first phase, she lived in Key West through 1999, met her former husband, and moved to Europe. In this phase, she enjoys being a mom, writing, making people laugh, storytelling, and helping others. She presently resides with her four kids (2 human, 2 canine) in Virginia Beach, Virginia.

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MOVING DAY

The grating sound of the alarm announced the morning. A second confirmation came by way of the flimsy blinds slicing the sun’s early rays. Before she opened her eyes, Bonnie raised her right arm to stop the noise and resume the silence she craved.

She drew in a weighted breath to release a heavier sigh, a feeble attempt to shake off the dread of the day ahead of her. She widened her eyes and glared at the ceiling. Then, she rolled her head towards the window. The unrelenting sunshine forced her eyes shut. She enjoyed the embrace of its warmth. When she could no longer stand it, she shuffled out of bed.

Since this dawdling cut into her morning routine, Bonnie wolfed down some semblance of a breakfast and took a hasty shower. When she finished getting dressed, she caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror. She stopped everything to focus on its interpretation. Her ponytail muted the vibrancy of her dark blonde hair. She leered into her reflection, overanalyzing her cornflower blue eyes and creamy alabaster skin. Such features on which she once prided herself–her youthful face, her toned, shiny legs, a figure that told men she was indeed a woman–were now faint and insignificant. Her emotions encroached upon self-pity. Refusing to go there, she blinked her eyes to shake off such weakness. Bonnie then headed towards the living room.

She made sure she had everything she needed for today near the front door, waiting for her in a box from Andy’s Grocery Barn. She grabbed her purse and keys from the desk, picked up the box, and left her apartment. Due to the unexpected heaviness of the box, she opted for the elevator. She pressed the call button, startled by the immediate opening of the doors. Relieved to find it empty, she took a corner of the car and pushed the G button.

Bonnie didn’t notice when the elevator stopped, a result of her locked gaze into nothing. She snapped out of it when the doors opened. She walked out and headed towards the building’s entrance. She saw Mrs. Grant and her dog, Sasha, head in her direction. Knowing Mrs. Grant will make her weekly inquiry, Bonnie let out a quick sigh to brace herself. Upon exhaling, she gave a weak, syrupy greeting out of politeness. “Hi, Mrs. Grant. How was your walk?”

“Well,” Mrs. Grant started, “it was a bit warm. You know that Sasha doesn’t like the heat. How are you, dear? Where are you going?”

Damn, Bonnie thought. Mrs. Grant has to know everything. She forced a smile and answered, “I have to go to my old house today to take care of some things. The realtor found a buyer.”

“Oh! How exciting,” Mrs. Grant exclaimed with more enthusiasm than Bonnie felt the moment needed. Mrs. Grant continued, “You’ll feel better once that’s gone.” Sasha’s whimpering broke the tension the statement caused. Relieved, Bonnie smiled at Mrs. Grant. She knew she meant well, but didn’t want to process this today. “Thank you,” Bonnie said, “I look forward to it.”

Distracted by Sasha, Mrs. Grant shortly replied, “Yes, dear.” Before Mrs. Grant could finish that statement, Sasha pulled her towards the elevator. Bonnie seized this opportunity to leave without further discussion. She walked to her car out front and put the box inside. When she started the car, she muttered, “Finally,” and drove away.

Bonnie grimaced at the red light; she wanted to get this over with. Unable to sit still, she flitted with the buttons on the radio until she found some recognizable music. She looked up to adjust her mirror. She leered into it, enjoying the ease of staring into oblivion.

Bonnie drove ahead once the light changed. She proceeded through the city, the intensity of the day strengthening. She crossed the long drawbridge that transported her from her future back into her past. A short time later, she entered the city of Edgington. She found out about this majestic town online. It provided everything vital for a future with your husband–good schools, quiet, shady streets, and friendly people. The town was foreign to her today. She didn’t recognize it as the place she once idolized.

She pulled onto Maple Street and crept past the houses, the steering wheel gaining weight in her hands as she headed forward. Six houses later, she reached a grey one-story with red adornments, number 1433. She parked in front of it and turned off her car. She sat and digested the scene. The mid-morning sunshine favored the grass out front, enriching the near emerald hue. The bushes were equally chipper, yet needed trimming. In the midst of this idyllic display, she saw the cold reality piercing through her dream–a large, obnoxious For Sale sign. She leered at the photo of the realtor hanging from it, longing to knock the smile off of Daisy Perkins’s face as easily as she could take out that sign. Bonnie stared long enough for Daisy’s welcoming smile to reveal itself as a sneer, looking down upon Bonnie and cashing in on her misfortune.

Bonnie’s cell phone went off in the middle of this observation. She winced and answered the call.

“Hello.”

“Where are you?” Her mother bellowed as usual. “I thought we were having lunch today.”

“Oh…” Bonnie trailed off. “I have to take care of something.”

“What? Where are you, Bonnie?’

She stiffened. “Someone wants to buy the house. I have to clean it before it closes.”

“Bonnie, I told you not to go to that house by yourself! Why would you do this? You’ve been through so much.”

Bonnie loved this home as much as Sam, the one who should be in there with her. Everyone knew how much losing it broke her down, one more thing she couldn’t hold onto. Any time she attempted to come out here alone, friends and family intervened. However, she knew she needed to have this day; to absolve the guilt she carried from letting everything go.

“Mom, I need to be here today,” she explained. “I won’t be long.”

“Let me come out and help you. Don’t do this alone.”

“NO!” Bonnie sighed so she could lower her voice again. “I have to do this. I’ll see you later.”

Bonnie ended the call. She grabbed her box, shut the car door, and turned around.  She sized up the house from where she stood. It lost its luster, Bonnie thought, or maybe I did.

She unlocked the door, set the box on the floor and came inside. It looked different now, no confirmation that she ever lived there with Sam, nothing to show what they started or why he ended it.  The shared living and dining room area blurred into one large anonymous space. To her left, she spotted a small table festooned with Daisy’s business cards. Across the room, there was an object by the window covered with a drop cloth. The air in the room was lifeless and stagnant. Weighed down by this, Bonnie struggled to get into the box. She took out her cleaning gloves, a dust cloth, and polishing spray. She walked over to the mantle and set down her supplies. She put on the gloves, grabbed the spray, and sprayed the cloth. She started dusting the mantle in small swirls. As she spiraled out, she remembered how much she liked this fireplace.

“Look how beautiful this is, Sam. It’s so unique. I love the color of the wood.”

“Eh, I guess.” Sam replied. “I suppose it ties the room together. Isn’t that what your friends would say?”

Bonnie smirked at his teasing. “Yes, Sam. I suppose it does tie the room together.”

She ran the cloth over the intricate detail of the wood framing the opening. Despite the sturdiness of the wood, she touched it ever so gingerly. She wanted to preserve the memories it held, what this room held.

Bonnie moved onto the baseboards and window sills, sweeping over them with the care she gave the fireplace. She lingered by the window next to the covered item. Curious as to what was underneath, she removed the drop cloth. It revealed the corner chair she hauled home from a yard sale one afternoon.

“What will you do with that?” asked Sam.

“I’m guessing I will sit on it. It is a chair, you know.”

“But it’s just odd…and used.”

“Aren’t we all, Sam?” Bonnie mused. “I’ll put it by the window. It will be my reading chair.”

“Oh, it will definitely be your chair. I’ll never argue with you over that.”

She sat in it and looked out the window, running her finger over the arm. The smoothness of the wood evoked tranquility. It was midday now and the sun wouldn’t allow Bonnie to sit here for long. She left the chair and went to the box. She traded out her polishing spray for the bathroom cleaning supplies. She headed toward the guest bathroom down the hall. She never noticed how stark white this room was until today, aware of the brightness closing in on her as she cleaned the sink and toilet. While cleaning the mirror, the cabinet jiggled. This was nothing new, but she made a mental note to have it repaired for the new owners.

She headed down the hall to the master bedroom. She stopped in the doorway, blocked by her emotions. The empty room made no mention of the love shared in there, the plans made on lazy Sunday mornings, arguments that led to passionate resolutions. She braced herself to enter and walked through the doorway. She went into the master bathroom and swiftly cleaned it. When she finished, she reentered the bedroom at a slow pace. She found the pain left in this room unbearable. She lowered herself to the floor and lay on her side. She pulled her knees up to her chest and squeezed herself in an attempt to get this out of her system. She rolled over on her back and stared at the popcorn ceiling. The soft texture of the carpet soothed her. She closed her eyes to enjoy this sensation, remembering what this room held.

“I owe you so much, Sam. You’re just amazing.”

“I think you’re amazing, too, Bonnie. That’s why it’s easy to love you.”

“I’m so grateful for you. I can’t wait for us to be parents. I love the idea of making you a father.”

“Eh, yes, well, all in due time, love.” Sam kissed Bonnie’s forehead softly.

“I suppose you’re right.” Bonnie buried her face in Sam’s chest, allowing his scent to lull her to sleep.

Bonnie shut her eyes tight to maintain this memory. Sam always smelled incredible. He also had the softest skin. His embrace shielded her from disappointment. It brought her back to life on the days that deflated her. She found his touch magical, from his hands to his lips. The idea of not experiencing that again overwhelmed her. Water stung her eyes. Bonnie realized that tears were forming and sat upright. She cleared her throat to stop herself from crying, lifted herself from the carpet, and left the room.

Thirsty from working, she headed towards the kitchen. She looked through each cabinet in hopes of finding a cup. She stopped when she found a near empty bottle of Jameson’s. Ah, she thought. Sam forgot this. She pulled it out of the cabinet, opened the cap, and immediately took a swig. She licked her lips with slow precision, realizing this is the last time she’ll ever share anything of Sam’s. She took a second gulp but the burn in her stomach overwhelmed her, forcing her to stop consuming the elixir. She emptied out the bottle, rinsed it out a few times, and refilled it with water. She inhaled the water and set the bottle on the counter.

She headed back to the bedroom to get her supplies. When she came out, she passed by the other room. The distinct odor of paint led Bonnie to enter it and investigate. She noticed the walls matched the rest of the eggshell walls in the house. She set down her supplies so she could touch them. She ran the tips of her fingers across the wall from the door to the closet. It felt cool, but not wet. The bright painter’s tape on the baseboards to her right caught her eye. “Thank you,” she said softly. She fully appreciated that this room carried the vapid color of the other rooms. She needed to forget.

“How can we paint the room if we don’t know what I’m having, Sam?”

“You’re having a child, Bonnie. Doesn’t that narrow it down some?”

“Sam, I really need your help. I supported you when you asked to keep the gender a surprise. Can you meet me half way on a paint color, please?”

Sam thought for a moment. “How about sky blue? No matter what we have, it will be a beautiful day, just like a clear blue sky.”

Bonnie fell in love again at that very moment. “Thank you, Sam.”

Bonnie went over to the window and looked out into the yard. It definitely needed mowing and didn’t share the vibrancy of the grass out front. She pressed her head against the glass and shut her eyes. She breathed deeply, processing the emotions gurgling inside. She exhaled hard. Bonnie wanted to leave everything here. Once I leave, I can heal, she tells herself. This room is what she dreaded most. This is where she needed to let her sadness unfurl, permeate the room so she could leave it in here when she shuts the door. It wouldn’t surface. Maybe I’m OK, she thought. She removed her forehead from the window and turned to leave, but the closet revealed something that grounded her for a moment.

On the shelf, Bonnie saw something soft and colorful. She knew what it was, what it would do, but she had to take it out. She had to touch it. She opened the door further. She stared at a blanket on the shelf, fearful to remove it. Her eyes burned now, but she didn’t care. She hoped they burned out of her skull. She needed to do this.  Bonnie extended her right arm. Her hand quivered as she reached for the blanket. When it finally reached the blanket, she pulled it down.

She forgot how luxurious it felt, so pure and kind. She brushed it against her cheek. She shut her eyes, now pained and blurry. The image of the baby meant to be in this blanket instantly rushed back. Bonnie howled unabashedly. She sobbed as if she had never shed a tear in her life. This sadness caused her to collapse. She fell to the floor. She held the blanket tighter, hugging it. It took her back to that day, the only day she ever wanted to forget.

“Sam! What’s happening to me?”

“I don’t know, Bonnie. I…I just don’t know.”

 “SAM! I’m bleeding! Please make it stop! Where is the ambulance?”

 “It’s coming, Bonnie. Just hold on. You’ll be fine. I…”

 “Sam? Sam? Sam, where are you going? AHHH! This hurts so much. Please help me.”

  “You’ll be fine, Bonnie. I need to…Oh, uh, the ambulance is here. I’ll, um, go talk to them.”

Bonnie rocked back and forth on this floor, letting out what should have come out so long ago. “I’m so sorry! I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, “she wailed. “I loved you so much. So did your father. You deserve to be here with us!” That last proclamation made her cry harder, her body convulsing with emotion. “Why did you have to leave me, Sam? I miss her, too. I’M SORRY! I’M SO SORRY!” She kept crying in that room, with that blanket, until she passed out.

Bonnie woke up feeling the effects of her breakdown. Her sluggish body was a stark contrast to her cleared mind. She looked around the room and back to the floor. The blanket fell underneath her at some point. She looked at it with a bit of resolve. “I need to put you to rest now,” she said. She came off of the floor and picked up the blanket. She went back through the kitchen to enter the backyard. She grabbed a shovel and headed towards the back corner. She knelt underneath the small tree there. Bonnie loved that tree and fought constantly with Sam to keep it. It was small and young, but it already had a nest which cradled robin’s eggs today.

Bonnie dug a small hole as far as her energy allowed. She folded the blanket and then held it in front of her for a moment. She buried her face in it and gave it a kiss. “Goodbye, sweetie,” Bonnie whispered. She placed the blanket in the hole and covered it with the loose soil. She bowed her head for a moment to be quiet with her thoughts. When she finished, she stood up and patted the soil with the shovel. She looked at the tree for the last time and walked back to the house. She stopped in the kitchen to wash her hands.  Her sadness and remorse lessened. She took note of the reduction of these feelings and prepared to leave.

Bonnie picked up her box and headed towards the door. She approached the door and stopped, turning to review the area one last time. Processing the memories, she drew in a breath and let out a deep, cleansing sigh. She struggled to give herself permission to leave behind all of the dreams and plans they shared here, that there was change waiting on the other side of this door. She balanced the box on her left hip and grabbed the doorknob with her right hand. When she turned the knob, a loud bang and a crash jolted her. Her body shook and she lost grip of the box. Before it reached the floor, Bonnie made a beeline towards the back of the house to investigate the noise.

She glanced in the guest bathroom and found the culprit; the medicine cabinet vaulted onto the floor. Various shapes of broken glass peppered the stark white tile. “Dammit! Really?” she exclaimed. She kneeled down to pick up the cabinet. She laid it facing up intending to use it to transport the broken glass to the trash. Bonnie loaded the larger pieces into the cabinet. A sting from the palm of her hand broke her routine. She dropped the shard she held to inspect her hand further. The tingle surfaced from a small gash in the middle of her palm near her thumb. The air hitting it told her that the glass injured her more than the wound implied. The blood surfaced to the cut once she opened her hand. The sensation advanced to a feeling of pain, but Bonnie didn’t mind. Her eyes fixated on the cut, watching the blood bead along the incision. The throbbing radiated through her body. She continued staring, the warm blood pooling enough to trickle down her hand. Bonnie enjoyed the warmth of the blood on her skin. The pain brought a calm to Bonnie that she thought was impossible to attain, quieting her mind. Her body softened and she was able to relax. Succumbing to the power of this sensation, she lost her footing and stumbled to her left side. Although this broke her concentration, it did nothing to diminish her desire for this newfound serenity.

She wanted more.

Bonnie sat back along the wall. A well jagged piece of glass caught her attention. She picked it up for closer inspection. Holding it ever so carefully in both palms, she ran her left index finger over the broken edges, contemplating its possibilities. She discovered an exceptionally sharp area. She took this end and let the point find her vein. She used her right hand to press it into the inside of her left wrist. Once it did, she worked the shard back and forth. Aggravation set in, driving her to push it harder into her skin. She gritted her teeth and hissed, “Come on!” Finally, it pierced her skin. The release came. She dug the glass further into the gouge she created. This allowed the blood to cease trickling and pour out in a steady flow. The warmth from the blood crept down her forearm. The radiance Bonnie experienced earlier from the first cut intensified, streaming throughout her entire body. She leaned her head against the wall, shutting her eyes to fully appreciate this sensation. She let her left arm drop to the floor. She slowly opened her eyes to find the blood now inch across the tiles. She smoothly exhaled, her mouth forming a small grin. Bonnie shut her eyes again to take in this moment, this gift, and this chance she received to finally heal.

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