Enough

EKPHRASTIC (i think thats how you spell it) WRITING TO "THE LUNCHEON" BY MONET.

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Genesis paced back and forth in the kitchen. She held an icepack to her head. Gazing out the window she saw her son Tommy playing in the garden, waiting to have lunch with his mother. She could see the joy in his eyes, and the laughter he found in things as simple as a caterpillar on his finger.  She didn’t want to make that beautiful smile of his fade away. However she refused to endure the continuous beatings any longer. She walked down the ivory hallways, black and white photographs passing her with the walls.  Walking into her bedroom, embraced by her oversized bed covered in burgundy satin bed sheets, she heads towards her vanity. In the mirror she sees a pretty faced that has been aged by grief, and bruised by man. Lightly, she powders the multi-colored, swollen bruise that frames itself around her eye in effort to make it invisible.

   Once her face had reclaimed itself, she walks outside to meet her son in the garden. When Tommy sees her, he runs to the table and tries to hide the dirt on his new white pants. She sees this and silently laughs to herself.

   “Tommy my dear, you should wash your hands before we eat, they are simply filthy.” She says.

   “Sorry mummy, I’ll be right back.” He skips away into the kitchen.

  Genesis knew that this would be their last lunch in the garden, and so she hoped to savor it.  When Tommy came back they sat and ate their lunch of hot cinnamon tea, fresh baked croissants, artichokes, sliced potatoes and grilled tilapia. Tommy tried to eat on his own, but at five years old, he wasn’t very skilled at cutting fish and eating artichokes. Genesis reached over and cut his tilapia into small bite-sized squares and his artichokes in half.

     “Better?” she asked.

     “Yes, thank you very much mummy” he said with a smirk.

      She finished eating and wiped her mouth, “Tommy my love, when you finish eating, could you please go pick out your favorite toys and bring them to mummy please?”

       “Why do you need my toys? I have been behaving…” he whined.

      “You have indeed been behaving exceptionally, I just need to put them in a suitcase, and we’re taking a trip to see your aunt Bethany.” She told him.

     “Really?! When?! I simply cannot wait, I love visiting them. They have two horses and I get to play with Cousin Mark.” He asked.

    “We get to go tonight! But you can’t tell daddy, he would tell Aunt Bethany and we want to surprise her don’t we?” She questioned.

   “No we don’t, don’t worry mummy, my lips are sealed. This is going to be so much fun!” he yelled as he ran off into his room.

      Genesis was just thankful that he hadn’t asked her for her how long. It was an answer she didn’t have. She went into her house carrying the dirty dishes and set them in the sink. She could hear Tommy shuffling the toys in his toolbox. She went back into her room and opened the mangrove wood dresser; she hurried to pack all her best clothes and shoes into her worn out leather bag.

      She checked the clock and saw that she only had an hour and a half left before her husband would be home. She put in her hat and quickly dashed into the hallway, setting her bags by the front door. Then walking back to Tommy’s room to see if he had finished sorting through his toys she stumbled upon her wedding picture. She couldn’t believe the smile on her husband’s face, and she was disgusted at the thought of ever saying “I DO.” But those days were long gone, her life had become a daily battle against her husband. She had done all she could to stop him, but she finally gave up.

    Everything had been picture perfect, a prefect honeymoon, a perfect marriage, a perfect son. But one day Genesis’ husband came home from work; he was tipsy and reeked of rum.  That day, Genesis yelled at him for coming home drunk in front of his son.  He took a cup and threw it at her and the glass shattered everywhere, leaving her with small cuts on her feet. Ever since that day, he had come home drunk and he hit her and beat her every single day. That had been exactly 433 days ago.

     She realized that she could not let him keep doing this to her, so she decided to leave him. Of course, she would never leave her son behind, even though he had never touched a hair on his head.  Now she only had an hour and half to leave everything behind and get out of town before her husband would come home.

     She ran into Tommy’s room and packed his belongings in another bag, with these, his baby album and blanket.

     “Do you have all your toys ready?” she asked.

   “I wish I could take them all mummy but since I have to choose a few, I think I will only take these.” He answered, spreading out about 12 different toys on the bed.

   “That’s fine dear, just put them all in here.” She said, holding open the newer leather duffel.

    “Mummy can I take the rocking horse that daddy made me?” he asked inquisitively while tugging on the edge of her skirt.

     She wanted so deeply to say no, she didn’t want a single reminder of him. But she couldn’t deny a reminder of his father to her son.

    “Sure, just bring it out to the door.” She replied.

     She heard the motor of the car waiting for her outside. She grabbed Tommy’s hand and picked up one of the bags from the door, carrying it out and loading it into the car. She sat Tommy in the car and went back inside, making continuous trips until she had finally put all of their belongings into the car.

   At the very moment when she was ready to leave and was simply grabbing her purse, her husband pulled up in his car. She wanted to run, fast, as fast as she could. But she found herself paralyzed by fear of what her husband would do. He got out, his eyes bloodshot, looking obviously drunk.

    “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” he yelled.

    She wanted to answer but she found herself to have gone mute as well. He was approaching her, each footstep bringing him and fists closer.  All she could do was slowly back away, creeping, inch by inch.

   “WHERE ARE YOU GOING? ANSWER ME HARLOT!” he asked once again.

  “I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying right here…” she said in the smallest voice.

   He opened the door and pushed her into the house, out of the view of everyone. He threw her against the wall, clenched his fists and swung them at her stomach, repeatedly until she was crying and whimpering on the floor.  She looked up for one second and saw Tommy standing in the doorway. She wanted to yell! To scream! Anything to get him to run. But the words still would not come out. Luckily she managed to keep her eyes open long enough for her gaze to meet with his and she watched little Tommy run away.

   Her husband quickly helped her get up and threw his arms around her.

  “I'm sorry, I’m sorry, I love you. I promise it will never happen again.” He said as he cried with his head against her chest.

  “Shhh its okay, I know you don’t mean it. Come my dear why don’t you take a rest.” She asked.

  She held her husband’s hand and led him to their bedroom. He set himself down on the bed,

  “Wait here, I’ll bring you a glass of water and you’ll feel better.” She said.

  She got her chance. She ran outside and got into the car as fast as she could. She saw Tommy sitting with his bear, quiet. Tears ran down her cheeks as she looked back to her home.  Her husband had ran out in one last attempt to keep her home.

  “HEY! STOP! Don’t take them please! Tommy! Tommy look at me!” he shouted.

  Tommy kneeled on his seat and looked back at his father who was on his knees with his hands in the air. Tommy outstretched his hand and asked,

  “When are we coming back mummy?” he asked desperately.

  “I don’t know son, I don’t think we are coming back.” She answered as she ran her fingers through his soft blonde hair.

 “What?” he asked rhetorically as he began to cry.