Retrograde | A Short Story
August 06, 2015
She
lives in a house on her own, which is rather grand for one person. Mary
Viewponte, 24, only does her laundry on Wednesdays. This is not important, rather a fact. She has never been swimming, never been on a plane, nor has she been to a movie theatre. She’s quite reserved and does not speak much, but
when she does, you can’t help but be drawn to her imagination and drown in the abundance of stories she constantly tells. Drown is a good thing in this instance. She went through
a tough time a year ago and since then; she has forgotten the meaning of love
and happiness. She would visit her grandparents and would always see this one
old lady who’d cry rivers into her grandmother’s hand-made cushion given to her
by her mother. Her curiosity eventually peaked and she then learned that the
crying old lady, who would constantly stare at Mary without speaking a word,
happened to be a widow. Of course Mary knew nothing of the story, however she instantly became fixated. Although unfortunate and rather daunting, Mary became
oddly intrigued and fascinated with the lifestyle of a widow and all the benefits that came with it: the
attention, the affection and the sympathy. Always having visitors over,
constantly receiving gifts and pity (the best duo) and let’s not forget the leisure of
having people do things for you...without
asking. Oh, but that would just be horrible and inhumane to find pleasure
in such a wretched situation. Not for Mary. This was her chance to become someone else—to feel wanted, to feel special. Ever since the ordeal Mary experienced, which she rarely talks about, no one has visited her. This was
the moment she decided to live a second life. This was the moment she murdered her husband—metaphorically speaking.
Four years go by and Mary’s melancholy lifestyle has been treating her well. “Hey Mary, what did you want with your sandwich? Any
sides or…” said Bethane before being cut off by Mary. “Oh…no, I’m fine. Just the sandwich will do...on second thought, I wouldn't mind an ice old lemonade. Thanks dear”. Mary sits down in front of the television whilst she waits for
Bethane with her food. Bethane is Mary’s friend from university, whom she met
from the very first year and has been inseparable ever since. Bethane brings
the tray of food into the living room and sits it in front of Mary. “Is
that okay?” asks Bethane. “Yes, dear. Thank you”, said Mary in a polite tone.
Bethane sits beside Mary and does not speak a word whilst Mary consumes her
lunch. She then breaks her silence. “So…how are you feeling?” Bethane nervously
asks. “…I don’t want to talk about—” Mary says quietly before being cut off. “OH! Of course! I
totally understand. I’m so sorry I even asked…” Bethane pleads after seeing the
hurt in Mary’s eyes—from straining it in front of the television, that is. “…But you must know, it gets harder and harder every day.
Sometimes I wake up in the mornings and get dressed in anticipation to
see…him”. Mary almost never mentions her late
husbands name. Not only because it makes the act much more real, but
because he isn’t real. “It must be so hard,
Mary. You and Stephen were so happy together...” “Oh, that’s
his name.” Mary whispers under her breath. “…You would always talk about him
whenever he left for work and you almost never wanted to go to your own job
because you just missed him so much”, explains Bethane. Mary looked at Bethane
with eyes of sorrow and confusion. She was rather impressed at how well
Bethane played along with her own story. For a minute, she forgot who was playing the game.
A few months pass by and it is
Mary’s birthday. Oh how Mary wished Stephen could be there. Of course, that’s
what everyone else thinks Mary wants. “Look at my beautiful baby!” Mary turns
around to see her parents across the room, her mother holding a box. “Mom!
Dad!” Mary rushes towards her parents and hugs the both of them with the
biggest smile painted on her face. “I
didn’t think you’d make it.” Mary says in excitement. “Of course! How can I
miss my baby’s 28th birthday?” “Oh, gosh.
I sound so old. My life is pretty much half way over.” Mary says in a sarcastic
tone. “Don’t say that!” Both Mary and her parents share a laugh. Mary looks
down at the box. “What’s that you have there?” she asks. “That would be your
birthday gift, dear. But I advise you to open it at the end of the night. You
would appreciate it more. Trust me on this.” Her mother calmly explains. Mary
takes the box and hides it under her bed in her room. She walks back down and
sits with her mother. “So, how is everything, love? Have you been keeping
yourself busy? I heard there is a new Rom-Com that came out a couple of days
ago and I know how much you love your Rom-Coms. You should check it out, dear!”
Her mother says while putting her hand on Mary’s with concern in her eyes. Mary
is overcome with chills and pauses. “Is everything alright, love?” her mother
worryingly asks. “Yes! Yes, sorry mom. I don’t know why that happens. But I’m
fine.” Her mother looks at her in helplessness.
“…How
are you dealing with Stephen?” her mother hesitantly asks. Mary pauses before
she replies. “…It’s a working progress. Everyday is a new challenge. Sometimes
I’m happy, sometimes I’m sad…” It's as if remorse wasn't an option. “I understand,
dear”. Her mother looks down. Mary looks at her mother in helplessness and in
guilt. To see her mother sad for reasons that are insufficient and deceitful
hurts her, however, there’s nothing Mary can do at this point. She’s gone too
far.
An hour passes by whilst Mary chats
with countless of nameless faces whom cater her with double the presents; one
for her birthday and one for sympathy. Poor Mary.
“Mary!”
A stranger’s voice appears from across the room. Mary tracks the stranger’s
voice.
“…Abbi?”
She realizes the strangers voice happens to be her childhood best friend, whom
she has not seen in 5 years. “Oh my
goodness. I cannot believe it’s you! I haven’t seen you in…forever!” Mary overwhelmingly
says. They both share a laugh and exchange hugs.
“I
know. I’m sorry I haven’t visited you in a while. After you told everyone you didn’t
want any visitors for the first couple of days after the incident, I just didn’t even bother to
visit…at all. I know, that sounds horrible”, says Abbi. “No! Of course not. I
totally understand. It was my fault. No wonder I got lonely…” Mary realizes the reason for her years of loneliness. Both Mary and Abbi look at one another with a
smile and embrace again. “So…how have things been?” Mary asks in curiosity. “Things
have been great! I just had Michael and I’ve never been happier,” says Abbi
while her cheeks turn pink. “…Michael?” “My baby boy. I didn’t bring him here
because I thought that would take away the attention from the birthday girl…” “Oh
my god! That’s so amazing. I’m so happy for you. Congratulations!” Mary shrieks
with excitement and hugs Abbi for the third time. They stare at one another for
a couple of seconds until Abbi breaks the silence. “Anyway, enough about me.
How are you coping with…everything, if you don’t mind me asking? I remember
when you called me right after it happened; you couldn’t even face getting into
another car, nonetheless say his name. You were so shaken”, Abbi says. Mary looks
at Abbi in confusion. She didn’t want to question her in fear of blowing her
cover, so she continued to play along. “…Yeah. It was truly horrible. The most
traumatic experience. I can hardly remember what happened. I miss Stephen...” Mary tries to get in character. “Remember what he used to say to you whenever he left the house?” Abbi
lightheartedly questions whilst smiling. Mary does not answer. Abbi then
prompts Mary. “…Be good, my Clementine…” says Abbi whilst Mary quickly repeats
after her. “Of course. I almost forgot!” Mary nervously giggles. The anxiety heightens as Mary stands there in her own guilt. She
questions to herself why everyone is playing along and not mad nor suspicious of her little charade. I mean, certainly she would be. “Oh, I almost forgot! This
is for you.” Abbi hands a small box to Mary. Mary then opens the box to find a
silver bracelet placed inside. “This is beautiful, Abbi. Thank you!” “Of
course! I actually made this just for you” says Abbi. Mary looks up from the
box and smiles. “Wow. That’s amazing. Thank you so much.” Mary clutches the silver bracelet. “I hope you cherish
it.” Abbi smiles at Mary. “Anyway, I’m going to go and…mingle I guess. Or at
least try to find Craig somewhere in this crowd” says Abbi. She chuckles and
walks away. Mary is left standing, admiring the bracelet in the box with eyes
filled of sadness.
The party comes to an end an hour
later and Mary decides to open her gift from her mother. She heads upstairs and
unleashes the box from under her bed. She sits on her bed and places the box on
her lap while she stares at it. She then lifts open the lid to find a copious
amount of photos delicately wrapped with a red ribbon. Mary pauses. She unties the ribbon
and places it on her bed. She takes out the first photo and admires it in
confusion. In her hand is a photo of her and Stephen hugging on a beach. Mary
begins to breath heavily. She examines another photo, which is of her and
Stephen sitting on the couch in the same house she is living in. Mary takes out
each photo in a panic and hysteria begins to build. She looks at the bottom of
the box and placed inside is a letter with her name in capitals printed in the
middle. She stares at the letter in hesitation, and then slowly grabs it out of
the box. She holds the letter in front of her while her hands involuntarily
shake. She opens the envelope and begins to read the letter. In the letter, it
states the following:
Dear
Mary,
If
you’re reading this, then today is your birthday. So, happy birthday,
sweetheart. You’re probably confused right now and that is okay—it’s not your
fault. It’s important for me to tell you what I’m about to tell you, Mary. So,
please…keep reading. We got into a car accident on July 12th, 1965.
It was a collision with another car on a bridge near our house and we went
through it. We nearly drowned, but we survived. However, the impact of the air
bag intensely jerked your body and you hit your head on the side of the door during
the collision, while I injured my chest. We were taken to the hospital and
stayed there for four days. According to the doctor, we were fine. The
following day, the doctor had told me some bad news. He said I was losing too
much blood and had suffered more internal injuries than he had initially
thought. He then told me you suffered a serious brain damage and it slowly progressed
within those few days. You were showing early signs of amnesia and I witnessed,
right before my eyes, you, my wife, losing herself. I didn’t know how long I
had left and I was scared for you. So, I wrote this letter a few days before
your 23rd birthday, in hopes for you to remember. You’ve got a scar
on your scalp from the surgery and I want to remind you that it’s beautiful, no
matter what. You are brave and you are strong.
Happy
Birthday, Mary
Love,
Stephen
ps. Be good, my Clementine
Tears stain the words written in the
letter, which have been fading throughout the years of collecting past sentiments. Mary
looks up after reading the letter to find her mother standing at the doorway,
witnessing the pain on her face. She gets up from her bed and heads to the
washroom. She looks into the mirror and caresses her scalp to discover a scar.
She smiles.
The End.
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