The Avoidance

Ever stood your ground, only to find out you had nothing to stand for in the first place?

The phone chimed on the nightstand, illuminating the darkened room as it did so. No movement greeted the phone's declaration. The room was plunged into darkness once more with no sound. Then the phone chimed again. Still no reaction, except this time the hand on the mattress thumped four fingers in a tedious manner. The occupant of the bed stared coldly at the phone. She didn't blink. When the phone stopped chiming again, she still stared at it in the dark. She didn't move at all. The phone still sang out after another brief interval, again and again. She sat in the bed, not moving. She wouldn't dare. 

That first call woke her up from a moderately sound sleep. She had just nodded off when the phone lit up the room seemingly so bright and the chime was so shrill, she thought she must have really been out. She didn't touch the phone. Didn't even look to see who it was. She knew who it was. It was Evontre. It better be Evontre, if he knew what was good for him. Her mouth was closed as she breathed through her nostrils. Her eyes continued to stare at the phone, tossing out illumination into the room. And she simply waited for it to stop once more, as she had waited all night since that first one startled her so, she just sat and stared at the phone.  

How dare he think she would talk to him after what he did. She confronted him, but of course he denied it. She knew he would. Clearly he thinks she is stupid. 

Phone chimed again. She listened to the chimes. They carried on longer this time. She lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, putting her hand to her forehead. It had been such a nice evening. She liked the movie, but didn't enjoy that girl in front of them laughing everytime Evontre laughed, like she was trying to impress him or give the idea she was in synch with him. Who did she think she was. No woman would laugh at the things depicted in that movie. Evontre did, but no girl would laugh at pratfalls and such. But Miss Down-In-Front did. Then she watched one time the girl was laughing, she turned back to look at Evontre. She gave that girl the coldest look, the same kind of looks she had been giving the phone all evening. She was glad when the movie was over. She hurried Evontre out of the movie as fast as she could. 

Phone chimed again. She continued to stare at the ceiling. Seemed like this happened all the time. They try to go out to the club or a movie and some female has to hit on him and pays no attention to her sitting there. She thought once she spied a female following Evontre into the men's room. They were kicked out of that restaraunt. They couldn't just go anywhere without someone harassing them. 

The room became silent, but she heard the ringing in her ears from the silence. How long could she go on like this, having to constantly fight off these women for her man, and having to continuously question if he truly loved her, or was he two-timing on her. It had been a while since that last call. He better know better than to not try to call her, if he knows whats good for him. She didn't look at the phone, but sat in the silent room. She heard nothing. She began anticipating the worse. 

If it wasn't that girl at the movies, then it must be the waitress. That was the most recent one. That must be the one he finally decided to pursue; the lowly little waitress. He probably went back to the diner to chat her up. That's what he would do. 

She pictured him apologizing for her. How dare he? She could just hear him telling the little girl how jealous she gets. Well, she wouldn't have to get jealous if he'd stop leading all these women on with his friendly smiles. What woman could resist his smile? She certainly couldn't. That's why she loved him so. She did love him. She looked to the phone. It wasn't chiming. 

He'd had enough, she thought. So he's with that waitress now, because he grew tired of her getting jealous. It was over. She had to accept that. Could she accept it? Could she deal with him being with someone else? Throwing her over for a waitress? Is that what she wanted? How long can she fight for her man? Why must she keep fighting for him like that? If he's with that waitress, next chance she gets, she's going back to that diner and have it out with her. See what he thinks of that. 

The chimes began once more. Okay, that's more like it, she thought. He's still trying to apologize. He's just growing frustrated trying to figure out what he can do to just get her to at least answer his calls. Then that's what he needs to be focusing on; how to apologize to her and make amends with her and not be hitting on some girl at the theatre or the gas pump or the diner or texting them. 

The chimes stopped again. He better not give up now. If he's not capable enough to continue on trying to call her throughout the night, while she is having no problem sitting there daring him to not call her, then maybe he isn't a good enough man for her. Doesn't seem then like he's very interested in being with her. Seems like then he may not have truly loved her as much as she thought, if he's not willing to move Heaven and earth for her. If she didn't love him with all her heart and soul, she wouldn't do everything she could to be all the woman he needed and make all those other women stay away. She was only doing it for him, but he had to learn not to encourage them. With that smile. 

She'd go to that diner next opportunity and look for that waitress. Didn't think she'd ever be able to find the girl from the movies again, but she knew how to catch the waitress. She'd tell her a thing or two. 

Where was the chime? Why was there no chime lighting up the room from that phone? Evontre? Don't you have some calling to be doing? Don't tell me you are throwing away all we had. 

There were the chimes. Okay, good. That's more like it. She wanted him to crawl. He should be sitting outside her front door. That's where he needed to be. Why wasn't he doing that, instead of talking to her over the phone? He could have somebody there with him out of view. Oh, no doubt about it now. She was going to go have words with that waitress. Why wasn't he right outside her front door trying to talk to her instead of calling her on the phone? That's what she'd like to know. 

She sat up on one elbow and leaned across the bed to get the phone while it was still chiming and ask him why he wasn't on his knees outside her front door when she moved back. That's what he wanted her to do; answer the phone. Go running to him. Well, she wasn't doing that, mister. Nosirree. 

The phone continued to chime and blink while she continued on up out of the bed. Thinks she's running to him. "Oh, Evontre! Is that you, Evontre?" It better be him on that phone. She made her way to the bathroom. The phone continued to chime as she left the bedroom. She entered the bathroom and reached to flick on the light. No light came on. She clicked the switch a couple morre times, but nothing happened. Well, fortunately she knew where everything was located, so she'd have no problem relieving herself. 

Upon completion, she washed her hands and splashed water on her face. How long did she plan to make him suffer? She looked at herself in darkness in the mirror. Nothing really but a silhouette. She'd make him suffer as long as necessary. Why was she doing this? Why was she this way? Why couldn't he make her happy? Why wouldn't she believe him? 

She walked out of the bathroom and listened. No phone was chiming. She needed a distraction of sorts. She'd go see what she could have as a midnight snack. She didn't want to see that phone. She didn't want to see anything going on. She was tired of what was going on with everyone and everything else. She just wanted some of her time, where she was all that mattered.

She made her way to the kitchen and looked about. Once more, she hit the lightswitch and again, no lights. Power must be out, she thought. She'd go see if she could find out what was going on in a bit. She opened the fridge and got out a soft drink. Of course the light in the fridge was off, but the drink was still cool. Hadn't been off too long, she decided. She was going to head back to the bedroom and get the phone to see what power outages there might be, when she saw the flashing sirens through the blinds on the windows. Must be in the neighborhood, she deduced. She took a drink from the can and began walking to the front door to peer out. She couldn't help but notice there was a sensation the closer she got to the door. She placed her hand not holding the can on the door handle and opened it. 

She was astounded by what she saw. She douldn't find her way back into her home with what was before her. She finally did manage to creep a bit going inside, and the carpeting swayed and dipped, like she was on a trampoline. She didn't get far, never releasing the door handle. She made her way back as the carpet continued to sag. The couch dipped, coffee table and chairs all tipping over, until the weight of the couch plunged through the carpet, leaving a darkened hole in its place. She stared at the destruction and just stood barely within the door frame. Somehow, someway the soft drink can was no longer in her hand, but she held the door handle as tho it was going to save her life.  

Outside her home was no better. Where once there had been her yard, a car, a sidewalk, all was now gone. Even the ground had vanished, as it now seemed to be doing on the inside. She looked out over the openess to see what was beyond. The road was gone. The house across from her was on it's side in the chasm. Far off in the hopeless distance, she saw flashing lights from police cars and rescue vehicles. A helicopter flew nearby. 

"REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE! WE'RE GOING TO GET YOU?" the helicopter blared. 

How, she thought. Were they going to lower her a rope and swing her over? She did everything she could to not look in the cavern, but even if she did, all that was there was emptiness. It was as dark as that bedroom when the phone stopped chiming. She looked up and mouthed the name, "Evontre?" 

Now the speculations began to flow. If she had only answered the phone. If it wasn't Evontre calling to warn her, it must have been someone else. Evontre was calling to save her, not apologize for something she knew never occurred. She just wanted to be possessive. How she truly did wish he was with her now. 

A spotlight was trained on her. It was coming from the ground, enabling the helicopter to see where she was. She saw brief lights flicker in the hole, then concluded they were power lines that had gone in. She knew all she was standing on was that centerpiece on the door frame, but she didn't dare look at it. When are they going to get her? 

She looked to see a basket lowered to her, for her to get in. That seemed like a lot. She would have just grabbed a rope. There was a man with the basket, harnessed and secured, to make sure she was properly strapped in. How was she supposed to let go of the door frame? The basket was practically in front of her, the rope was grazing across the roof just above her head. 

"Give me your hand," the rescuer shouted. She did as she was told and as soon as he had hold of her, she felt her feet give way beneath her. She didn't know if it was the small piece of flooring falling or if she was just too exhausted and collapsed when she felt she was safe. She tumbled into the basket and covered her face with her hands and said nothing. She wanted to cry now, but was just too emotionally drained. The rescuer did some buckling and clicking, she thought they would never move. What was he waiting for? 

Then suddenly, they were airborne. She still held her hands to her face, covering her eyes. 

"You're going to be okay. Everything is okay now," the man said, but she wasn't listening. 

Now it seemed the flight was taking too long. How big was that hole? She still had her hands over her face when they seemingly landed and she was unharnessed. Paramedics were gathered around her. She said she was okay, but she seemed too give out to even stand as they helped her up and put her on a stretcher. An oxygen mask was placed over her mouth and nose. She was about to finally give way to slumber when she saw him. Holding the phone. 

"I have to see if this one is her. Let me through to see. Tanina? Is it you? If you're still in the house, please answer."

But now he stepped into view and saw her, and she looked back at him. 

"Oh, baby, I've been trying to call you all evening that the road and ground was all caving in. You never answered. Was you asleep? Did you sleep through the ground breaking up when it started?"

No, she thought as she held his hand and a tear rolled down from her eye. Obviously what she thought was the phone was when the sink hole began, so she was awake the entire time he was trying to call her, trying to warn her, and she refused to listen. She gasped under the mask. 

"Evontre," she said, "I love you," as another tear made its way down the side of her face. 

"I love you, too, baby. Can I ride in the ambulance with her?"

Back at the house, the foundation had continued to deteriorate. Everything she had, every bit of her existence, it was all collapsing into the dark underground. Floors slanted, windows broke, boarding splintered. Pipes ruptured, but the water pouring out didn't matter. Eventually land swallowed them up with everything else. 

The bedroom creaked, then tilted. The nightstand toppled over and the phone fell to the leaning floor. Gradually the entire room turned on its side, the now lower inside wall giving way, so nothing prevented the phone from dropping into the deep plunging ground below.