Cold, like a corpse waiting to be
dumped into tiny grains of dunes, and gloomy like an inside of a coffin
vacuumed and void, which could be one way of defining the layout of that night,
but the fact still remained, even when the entire neighborhood was sound asleep,
A soul was still awake bearing bulging eyes and dilated nostrils and avoiding
every possible note that could have occurred. The Silence was professionally
maintained by that lone ranger since this was not his maiden attempt to pierce
into Wilson’s house at such hours of darkness. The keys were plugged in and
rotated which produced a metallic utterance breaking the tranquility that
prevail the area. The lad’s teeth clenched involuntary upon hearing the
deafening sound of the door’s aperture, and he tiptoed inside trying to avoid every
sign of his occupation. He crossed the
threshold of the lounge and entered the living room, with his coat in one hand
and a bunch of keys in the other. He was en route in devising a plan of
silently entering his study, when the entire living room lightened up to life.
He yanked abruptly, his heart racing like a race horse in the field, blood
pumping through his veins vigorously; a wave of fear ran through his spine as
he tilted his skull to discern his wife sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Her
face expressionless, her eyes dry like an aged woman’s breast, her hands
balanced neatly on her lap. She stood up, took a step forward and then uttered,
“You were with that girl I believe?” She asked raising her eye brow. No matter
how much she protested, but somewhere deep she bore a scar that was getting
worse day by day. The idea that her husband no longer find that charm, passion
and beauty would deteriorate any woman’s personality and Samantha was on the
verge of going downhill. Harry grinned,
“Look Sam, I really don’t want to have this conversation right now”. He turned
his back on her and went towards the staircase, Samantha’s mouth hung open, her
heart stopped by the thought that her husband doesn’t even feel like talking to
her. She waved her hands in utter amazement as she saw harry walking up the
stairs towards his study. “We have a Son and a daughter Harry” yelled Samantha
in a pretty decent audibility that echoed in the entire house. Harry paused at
the door of his study, casted a glance on Samantha shook his head in
disappointment and slammed the door behind him. Samantha, who stood isolated in
the living room, couldn’t stop her tears. She fell on her knees with her palms
rested on her lips, weeping miserably as this was her only option. She thought
of separation like a millionth time but every time the innocent countenance of
her children acted as a great barrier, since she loved her children way more
than she despised Harry that instant. Samantha was sufficiently dehydrated
after sobbing for almost an hour, after which she finally decided to have a
word with her better half first thing in the morning. She pulled herself up and
lay on the sofa behind her. As soon as her cord was at ease, the involuntary
occurrence of a highly distinct characteristic of human phenomenon acted causing
Samantha to pass out.
The next morning was warmer than
yesterday’s compelling Samantha to wake up early. The thermostat was already on
low, and the entire house felt even hotter by each passing second. Samantha’s
weeping session prompted the mascara to strew over her entire face making her
attire even more horrible then it already was. She ran her fingers through her
hairs, adjusted her scattered locks and proceeded towards the kitchen to pour
herself a glass of wine. She came back to the sofa settled herself with her
knees folded covering her pelvic region. She kept goggling at the table that
lay right in front of her and started brooding over the dolefulness of her
life. She couldn’t apprehend the reasons that stipulated her better half to
spit over their relationship without realizing the consequences that rested
ahead. She kept drinking that alcoholic fluid and kept pouring herself more,
and in doing so her gaze went over to Harry’s study. The door was ajar, and so
Samantha abided with what she aimed last night and stood up to find harry. She
placed her partially filled glass of wine on the table and went up the
staircase. Since she was sufficiently drunk hence her steps were not quite
steady as they should be. She shuffled up the stairs and floundered herself
inside Harry’s study, only to discover his absence. She looked at the entire
room, since Harry had a history of hushing up confidential stuff which later
became his habit. She observed the table keenly, still hung over by the wine,
and started inspecting the papers that were scattered unevenly covering the
entire desk. There were a number of unsealed envelops with Mr. Harry engraved
upon it, and on the lower left side in a bold text was printed Dr. Kelly Morgan
(Seattle General Hospital). “A Doctor, Seriously?” thought Samantha, as she
dropped herself on Harry’s chair and started staring the ceiling. She was broke
since her suspicions relating her husband’s affair were somehow evolving into
mere facts, which was something Samantha wasn’t ready to cope up with. She kept
sitting there with her sight etched on the ceiling, when out of the blue the
sound of the main door opening floated up to her ears. She stood up, and left
the study to see her Harry entering the living room, “Well Well Well, if it
isn’t my beloved husband” uttered Samantha sarcastically. Harry raised his
eyebrow, his expressions altered completely to perceive his wife’s drastic
condition. “You’re wasted Samantha” replied Harry turning his face away. “Well
at least I am not a w***e who cheats behind her husband’s back”, riposted Samantha
who triggered the anger and frustration boiling inside harry. “SAMANTHA!” he
shouted as loudly as he could, which took Samantha by surprise as she never saw
this coming. The room was silent, the couple stared each other directly in the
eyes which took them both on a trip down memory lane. It was their wedding and
before the trademark wedding kiss was performed the couple looks at each other
in the eyes and in the same manner but the expressions were highly distinct.
The staring session continued for a couple of seconds, when harry turned away.
Samantha who knew that the water has risen way above their heads and she
finally asserted, “I want a divorce Harry”. Harry tilted his head in
stupefaction, not believing what Samantha just said. Samantha, who didn’t felt
like having further conversation, went straight to her bedroom. Harry could
hear her sobbing; he looked down in disappointment and then headed straight to
his study to sink in his own agony.
It was Sunday morning, the sun
gleaming through the perfect white curtains which seemed such a beautiful sight
to start a day with but Sunday mornings usually lasted longer in Wilson’s
household. The Silence that was spread across the house was brutally ruptured
as harry marched outside the house and started his vehicle. The ear-splitting
sound of the engine compelled Samantha to pull herself up. Her head felt like a
drum set with a rookie playing it. She stood up moaning, went towards the
windows and pushed aside the curtains to see Harry with his mobile settled
inside the vehicle. He kept speaking on his cell for several minutes and then
geared in, pushed down the accelerator and raced outside the Cul de sac.
Samantha savvied that this was her only chance for catching her husband red
handed and with this notion, she rushed downstairs adjusting her hairs slightly
which hardly bore fruit, pulled the car keys from her purse and raced towards
the parking lot. She threw herself inside the car, calibrated the mirrors,
plugged in the ignition followed by rotating it. The engine roared to life and
Samantha drove away. She pressed the accelerator as hard as she could forcing
the car to thrust along the driveway. She took an erratic turn towards the
right and stopped at the signal, where she caught the sight of Harry’s hummer.
Samantha was vigilant in following Harry and was cautious in concealing her
presence. She followed Harry downtown and then towards the heart of the city.
He entered the parking lot of Seattle general hospital and parked his car in
the front lane. Samantha followed him inside the lot and parked her car in the
parallel lane, to avoid getting caught, and waited calmly for her better half
to show up. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes like hours and hours like
lifetime, Samantha kept sitting in her car, holding her horses firmly as she
was about to unfold her husband’s swindle. Almost an hour passed when Harry
appeared under the scope of Samantha’s observation. He Settled inside his
hummer, reversed the vehicle, straightened it and raced along with a burn out,
giving Samantha complete liberty to carry out her investigation that she had
been planning for so long. She stepped out of her car, pressed the lock button
on the key chain, a pitchy sound erupted confirming that the car is secured
allowing Samantha to head towards the main entrance. She entered the hospital,
eluding a loud entrance, and went straight towards the receptionist. She was a
brunette in her twenties, wearing the usual hospital uniform. She greeted
Samantha with a smile “Where can I find Dr. Kelly Morgan?” demanded Samantha in
a casual tone, hiding her anxiousness. The brunette pressed a few keys on her
computer, dragged the mouse in several directions and then uttered, “She’s in
room number 42, fourth floor, Samantha responded with a smile.
Samantha was always reluctant in
using elevators; she usually preferred escalators but unfortunately hospitals
didn’t have any so she was forced to abide with the lifts she hated the most.
The elevator took almost half a minute to reach the required floor; Samantha
stepped out of the lift and stood idly on the aisle. She looked on her left and
right side respectively and observed the doors lined on the parallel walls. She
preferred to go left and soon realized that she chose the correct direction. Samantha
was expeditious in finding the room she longed to visit for and gave a slight
thump on it. It was complete silent for several seconds and Samantha felt she
was at a deadlock. She couldn’t enter the room without permission as this would
be a clear violence of ethical laws but on the other hand cannot give up at
such a crucial stage hence she preferred waiting. She stood right in front of
the door staring at the silver plate with Dr. Kelly Morgan inscribed upon it.
She felt exceedingly frustrated and was about to give another knock when a
voice from inside commanded, “Come in Please”. Samantha was quick in penetrating
herself in. The room was handsomely furnished, with a translucent glass
opposite to the door and in the center was a lady with a couple of papers in
her hand and stood right beside the table. “Dr Kelly Morgan?” inquired Samantha
in a dominating tone that was hardly noticed. The lady placed the papers in
proper order, adjusted her coat and gestured Samantha to ensconce herself on
the seat meant for clients. Samantha obeyed to what she was told and allowed
the lady to continue. “Yes I am certainly Dr Kelly Morgan, but I don’t think I
recognize you”. The reply triggered the anger and frustration boiling inside
Samantha but she kept herself calm and emphasized more over her words. “I am
the one whose husband is sleeping with you” uttered Samantha which completely
took Kelly by surprise. Her expressions were absurd, her eyes goggling
Samantha’s face, her brows narrowed as if she’d filed a petition against her.
“Excuse me?” asked Kelly her expressions consistent throughout their
conversation. “Oh yes! You slept with my husband and yet you are the one to be
excused. Well that’s just brilliant” yelled Samantha sarcastically followed by
a pause and then resumed, “Harry Wilson? Ring a bell?” asked Samantha pushing
herself towards the table to face Kelly a bit more directly. “Are you
Samantha?” asked Kelly in a polite tone with altered expression causing an
abrupt change in Samantha’s attitude since she was forced to step into a deep
ditch of curiosity. “How do you know my name?” inquired Samantha still curious.
Kelly sat back on her chair, sighed in disappointment, recommenced her position
and then began, “Look Samantha, this might come as a really big shock to you
but…” and before she could complete Samantha intruded and began speaking, “Not
as big of a shock after discovering your envelops in Harry’s study. What are
you two exchanging love letters now?” “YOUR HUSBAND HAS CANCER SAMANTHA”,
shouted Kelly as she stood up. Her eyes wide with rage, eye brows reached her
forehead, her expressions intense dominating Samantha’s sarcasm, attitude and
frustration. A highly awkward situation spread across the room, Kelly who was
still standing whereas Samantha who couldn’t believe her ears. Both ladies
didn’t have any notion of how to carry along this not-so-pleasant conversation
and were thinking of devising a method when the nurse entered the room and
inquired if everything was alright, “Everything is fine, can you give us a
minute” demanded Kelly adjusting her skirt. She sat down trying to loosen her
temper and regaining her patience. Samantha, who didn’t know how to deal with
this inauspicious news, kept staring at Kelly with spacious pupils. Kelly felt
that it was feasible to narrate Samantha everything that she knew and so she
began, “Look Samantha, your husband has been suffering from brain cancer for 6
months. He has been taking medications regularly but not at home, never at
home, he never wanted you to know because he didn’t want you to get upset and
tensed. Those envelops you saw were mine, but it had medical prescriptions for
his medicines and nothing more. He loves you Samantha and your children but you
never realized his pain rather you kept abusing him and torturing him when he
need you the most.” Samantha burst into tears, as she was on the verge of
losing the man who loves her the most. She stood up and rushed outside the
door. She kept running and took the staircase instead of the elevator and
finally exited the hospital to enter the lot. She pressed the unlock button on
her keychain, floundered herself in, and went straight towards her home where
she was confident of finding Harry. Samantha reached her home and her journey can be
summed up in a phrase called “A FLICK OF A THUMB”. She entered the Cul de Sac,
threw herself out without closing the door behind her and went straight towards
her house. She opened the door and suddenly caught the sight of harry standing
halfway across the lounge. Samantha stood there with insanely red eyes and sour
cheeks, her heart pumping strenuously, her lashes wet as she felt pathetic of
herself. Harry knew he had to be zealous even when he is broken and tormented
from the inside, he had to be strong even when there was no reason to be, he
had to show love, even when he was deprived of it. “Kelly just called, it’s
nothing Sam I am feeling way better now” said Harry with a fake smile. Samantha
who stood in front of the door, crying, stepped towards harry with moist and
sullen eyes, with her hands on his chest, “You can’t even lie properly can’t
you?” murmured Samantha causing the couple to giggle. Samantha hugged Harry
tightly, still sobbing, since the thought of abandoning her husband in his most
crucial period clanged in her mind. Harry kept consoling her, which was
followed by placing her palms on her cheeks and looking directly in her eyes,
“You are the only Woman I loved and nothing can change that ok?” Samantha
nodded in reply and they both headed towards the staircase, as a couple, one
who was determined to beat the disease whereas the other who was now a firm
believer in her partner’s determination. And finally they climbed that staircase,
hand in hand, eyes in eyes, and then when they reached the top they showed the
world that even the harshest times can be dealt with if you truly love your
better half.
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