Norma
By Nita Wilson
Norma
sat on the ground next to the fresh grave and spoke to her dead husband as if
he was sitting across the kitchen table.
“The washing’s done
and I hung your work shirts in the closet; I’ll iron them when I get back this
afternoon. Supper will be on the table
at five and the tomatoes have been weeded.
I hope that pleases you. I’ve
done my best today.”
She sat picking at
blades of grass holding in her smile as she didn’t want to appear ‘uppity’ as
her husband used to yell at her. But she
was always happy when she could tell him she had finished all the tasks he’d
given her to do. She had to admit, the
daily tasks were a lot easier to complete since he was dead and out of her
way. Just knowing there would be no more
beatings and no more yelling made her smile in spite of herself. She was finally catching on; he wasn’t coming
home to yell and spit his fire at her.
The first week she couldn’t believe he was really dead. No way in hell was he going to leave and let her
go without killing her first, but in the last couple of weeks he hadn’t
returned from the grave, he hadn’t appeared in her sleep and he hadn’t surprised
her in the tub as he had so many times in their many years together. He was gone and he wasn’t coming back. She could stop washing the clean work shirts
and having supper ready every day at five o’clock on the dot. She didn’t like eating that early, but her
likes were never an issue with him. He
wanted to eat at five and by damn she would either eat at five or wear her food
in her lap.
Suddenly she was afraid. She was alone
and she was lost. Without him to tell
her what would to do how would she get by?
She believed him all the years he told her she would be lost without
him. Her stupidity would be her
downfall, she had believed it for so long, she had to stop and think. Deep down, deep, deep down in her soul she
knew he was right. She was a stupid
woman who wouldn’t be able to make it without someone as all knowing as her
husband. She was glad they had no
children to witness her down fall, her destruction, her falling into some abyss
of ignorance and ending destitute and lonely.
She
got her checkbook out of her purse and opened it. The insurance money had been doubled with the
help of Ms. Brian at the bank. Her
mortgage was paid off at the death of her husband and her bills were set to be
paid from the bank each month, from the interest of her money. She had to think about this. According to Ms. Brian, she’d never have to
pay another bill and would have more than enough money to live comfortably the
rest of her life and travel if she so desired.
Travel, where would she go? She
was sure she wasn’t smart enough to travel on her own, maybe she could take
someone with her, but who? She had no
friends, they weren’t allowed in her life.
Her family long stopped having anything to do with her, her husband made
sure of that. When she was young and
first married she packed her things and moved home when he gave her the first
black eye. She remembered the day well,
walking up on the big porch with such joy at being free from him and home
again. She couldn’t wait to feel her
mama’s arms around her telling her everything would be alright. She would help her mama put up jams and plant
tomatoes… but it hadn’t worked out like that.
“Frank
called us, Norma. Why you running back
here with your tail between your legs; you have a husband who loves and needs
you. He’s worried to death.” Her mama
met her at the front door.
“What’d
you do gal, to make your husband mad enough to slug you?” Her father asked pushing past her mama.
That
was the day her heart broke into a million pieces; not from the black eye and
the bad words from a husband she thought loved her, but her mama and daddy
blaming her for her husband’s outrageous behavior. She felt a deep betrayal, a betrayal so deep
and sorrow filled, she knew she would never get over it. She turned and walked back down the front
steps and took the first bus back to her husband. From that day on she knew she must have done
something horrible to warrant her husband’s disappointment in her and through
the years worked to right the many wrongs she did on a daily basis.
Gerry
looked across the cemetery at a woman sitting next to a grave, stood up from
his wife’s grave and took his hat from off her tombstone. Just that day the police told him he was no
longer a suspect in his wife’s death.
The coroner declared her death an accident after being shot in the head
while Gerry was cleaning his gun. Gerry
would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy about the report. He felt bad enough that things had gotten
that out of hand the night he killed his wife.
He’d aimed the gun at her before when she did something so stupid he
lost his temper, but this time he went that extra step and pulled the
trigger. It was her fault, damn it. She knew he hated biting into a piece of
fried chicken and finding blood. She
knew not to rile him when he was tired from working all day; would it have
killed her to make sure the damned chicken was done? He’d told her so many times he was sick of
telling her, but she was just too stupid and needy to listen. He was sorry now though. He missed her. He could have been kinder to her. She did try as best she could, but she just
didn’t get him. She had never understood
him at all. He just picked the wrong
woman. He missed her though. Her heart was in the right place and he
missed having clean clothes and supper on the table when he got home and God
knows he missed her in his bed.
He
was hungry; maybe he’d stop by the diner and eat a hamburger before going home
to watch “Wheel of Fortune”. Besides,
without Beth, the game show wasn’t fun anymore.
She was real good at guessing the words two seconds before the
contestants. He turned in the direction
of the parking lot and noticed the woman lamenting a flat tire.
“Need
some help, Mam?” He asked in his best
man-to-the-rescue voice.
Norma turned to the
man walking up to her car and gave him a nice smile.
“I’ve never had to do
this before. Frank took care of things
like this. I’m helpless when it comes to
car fixin’s.” She laughed nervously.
“We’ll have you fixed
up in no time. You got the key to the
trunk?” He asked and walked around to
the back of the car. He wondered if her
husband was in the cemetery with Beth.
Why else would she be out here at supper time.
Beth wondered if he was as nice as he
seemed. Frank would have been yelling
and cursing at her for getting the nail in the tire. This man was gentle and helpful. She’d bet he’d never yelled at a woman.
Once the tire was fixed he wiped his
hands on the towel she kept in the trunk and cleaned between his fingers while
glancing at her standing next to the back door.
“You from around here?” He asked as he put the towel back in the
trunk and closed it.
“Yes. My husband and I live over by Potter’s
Creek. Well, at least, I live over by
Potter’s Creek, my husband’s buried over there under the big willow. He just died a month ago.” She clutched the neck of her blouse with one
hand and smoothed the strands of hair from her forehead.
“My wife’s buried
over there by the fence. Just two weeks
ago. I miss her somethin’
terrible.” He took his hat off and held
it in both hands… it seemed like the proper thing to do talking about his dead
wife and all.
“My name’s Norma
Hatten.” She said and extended her hand.
“I’m Gerry
Potter. How you do, Mam.” He took her hand and shook it gently.
“Well I better go, I
left supper on the stove.” She turned to
get in the car and turned back. “You
want some supper? I got plenty.” She blanched; what the hell had she just
done?
“You a good
cook?” Great, open with an insult, Gerry thought to himself.
“I’m told I am.” Please
let him say no, she prayed to herself.
“I’d love some Mam,
or we could go to the diner and get a burger.”
This was more like it. He was
getting a second chance with a nice woman.
This time would be different.
This time he’d watch his anger and be nice.
“Whichever you’d
like, Mr. Potter, either one is fine with me.
It’s up to you.” She was getting
a second chance and this time with a nice man.
She would be so nice and accommodating, there’d be no need for him to
yell. He seemed like a nice gentle
fellow and she would love the company.
The End
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