Thursday, January 22, 2009

Wild Turkey

When Granny Mary first got married she thought there'd be but two men in her life - her father and her husband. The first three years with Harry were all she could expect from marriage. She became pregnant immediately after getting married - truth be told she was probably a few weeks pregnant when they got married but she didn't know that at the time. With a baby coming, there was little time for a honeymoon period. Mary's days were spend preparing to be a mother; and Harry's days were spent working at the factory. Each day she'd make him his lunch and send him off with a kiss and then spend her time making what she called the baby's nursery, but was really just a corner in the living room of their one bedroom apartment, ready. She'd found a second-hand crib from a neighbor down the street. She painted the living room a bright cheery yellow and she started sewing sheets and drapes and clothes. All of her spare money, of which there was little, was put into the home, making it better, nicer.

Harry worked long hours, coming home dirty and hungry. She always tried to have dinner on the table but sometimes, especially after the baby was born, she'd just get caught up with sewing, or chores or something. Harry didn't ask for much, as he liked to remind her, but he asked that his dinner be ready when he came home. The nights it wasn't, he'd get angry, flop down in the easy chair, arms crossed, while he glared into the kitchen, waiting. He wouldn't take a shower, he did that after dinner. He wouldn't play with the baby, he did that after his shower. He wouldn't do anything but wait. He rarely yelled; his preferred method of getting his point across was sulking. Like you'd just done him a great injustice and he couldn't believe how you hadn't considered his feelings. Mary's reaction to this was to try to console, to hurry and make dinner and then apologize over and over again the entire meal. She knew he worked hard and one of the few things he asked of her was dinner when he got home. If he had just said, once, it was OK, Granny Mary might have stayed with Harry. If he had just once accepted her apology; just once acknowledged that she worked hard too making the house a home. But he never did. And so Mary believed that deep down he really hated her and thought she was worthless.

After a couple of years and another baby, Mary thought she was pretty worthless too. She'd never had the highest of opinions of herself, and living with Harry made her feel like she couldn't do anything right. And so one day, she stopped trying. Instead of making dinner or even planning for dinner, Granny Mary dropped the kids of with the neighbor and went out to the tavern down the street. She knew Harry'd never look for her here, she rarely drank, so she went in and ordered what she saw her mom drinking all the time, Wild Turkey.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Ah, the seeds of alcoholism. And such fertile soil in which to grow. I’m getting a decidedly 'reverse Annunciation' vibe from all of this. Mary, the anti-virgin, having the sacred mysteries of the winged creature - the Feral Angel in a bottle - revealed unto her. What wondrous and terrible adventures might now come to pass...

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