Turning Point

by Susan Matthewson

Eve still listened for the sound of his car, the sound of the garage door going up every afternoon at 6, even though Michael had been dead for six months now. It didn’t seem to matter where she was or what she was doing, she somehow ended up at home before 6 p.m. every day, sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the mudroom door, believing that this time the garage door would go up and he would walk through that door and life would pick up where it left off six months ago. She’d even moved the kitchen wall clock over beside the entrance door from the garage so she could watch the door and the clock at the same time.

She stared at the clock, watching the minute hand tick past the 12 to 6:01, then 6:05, then 6:15, and still nobody came through that door. She pushed herself up from the table as though she needed the leverage to lift off the chair like some old lady with creaky joints and arthritis who needed a boost. She was only 55, too young to feel so weary and lethargic, too young, she thought, to be a widow, too young to feel so hopeless, so lonely, so alone.

           

She started to prepare dinner, dinner alone now, so it was always soup or a sandwich, something simple that took no time or fuss. She no longer had the ability to plan a meal, even to think what to cook. She opened a can of tuna fish and walked to the sink to drain the liquid. She stared over the sink to the backyard at the neglected flowerbeds, the leaf-strewn patio, the yellowing potted plants placed here and there. Everything was straggly and overgrown. She sighed, thinking, I must do something about that…prune, cut back, and sweep. I must, I must, I must…the musts just went on and on.

“Ugh,” she said out loud. “I hate this. I hate this so much,” and then she picked up the dishrag folded neatly across the faucet, turned around, and threw it at the door to the garage, that door that was firmly shut, that simply was not going to open, that no one was going to walk through.

She opened the fridge to get the jar of mayonnaise out and then remembered that she was out. Great, she thought no mayo, no mustard, so no tuna fish salad. But she’d gone to the grocery store yesterday, hadn’t she? Isn’t that what she’d gone for—to stock up on mayo, mustard, other staples? What had happened? Where was the mayo? What had she done?

It was starting to scare her how often this happened--how she couldn’t remember from one day to the next what she’d done. She sat down at the table. Remember she demanded and rapped on the table. Remember what you did yesterday. She rubbed her forehead. What had happened between yesterday and today, right now, this minute?

The grocery store. Yes, she had gone to the grocery store. She’d been wandering down the cereal aisle and had automatically reached for the box of shredded wheat that Michael loved. She’d looked at the box in her hand and then time seemed to drop away. She’d stood there, lost in memory, hearing Michael teasing about her less than healthy eating habits--she who would grab a cup of coffee in the morning and then maybe a cookie or two while he sat at the table eating his shredded wheat and orange juice while reading the paper. He’d glance up with an amused smile as she grabbed a cookie and shake his head, so she’d dramatically take a huge bite of cookie and wink at him.

She might be still standing at the grocery store with that cereal box in her hand, lost memory  had not Tina Denovo come around the corner and nearly run her down.

“Eve, my goodness,” Tina said. “I haven’t seen you in such a long time. You haven’t been in yoga class for months now. How are you? How are you getting along?  I know it’s a tough time for you right now.”

Eve had blinked, put the box back on the shelf, and tried to clear her head.

 “Oh, Tina,” she said, “I, uh, I’m great, really great. I’ve just been busy, so busy. I’m coming back to class soon now, just as soon as…” and then she hadn’t been able to think of how to complete that thought. Just as soon as what…what was it she was so busy doing. She had stared back at Tina, shrugged her shoulders, and said, “Well, soon anyway, very soon.”

 Then Eve had stood there, smiling with not a single thought in her head as to what to say next.

           

Tina patted her on the arm. “It’s good to see you Eve. Do come back. It’ll be good for you to see friends. Come this week and we’ll all go out to lunch afterwards.”

           

“Yes, yes I will,” Eve said and then watched Tina move away down the aisle. And then what? Eve rubbed her eyes. What had she done then? Oh, yes, she could see it now...she’d just left the cart with only a bar of soap and a package of cookies in it right there in the aisle, turned around, and walked out.

But what did I do after that? What did I do from yesterday afternoon at the grocery store until right now, this very minute? She hadn’t a clue.

Okay, she thought, slow down and retrace your steps. She’d left the grocery store, she could remember that now, but she didn’t remember getting in the car. She gasped and ran to the door to the garage and opened it, convinced she must have left the car in the parking lot, wondering how she’d gotten home. But the car was there, her old reliable Ford Explorer, hunkered down like an old gray bear, sitting right beside Michael’s sturdy little red Toyota Camry.

But something else had happened, something just flitting around the edges of her memory now. She’d done something awful, something completely out of character, something that shocked her.

“Oh, my God,” she said with a disgusted shake of her head as the memory hit her. She’d been walking to the car in a daze, not really knowing what she was doing, just compelled to leave the store, to get out of there. A young couple had been walking toward her, smiling and laughing, holding hands, looking at each other. They were so wrapped up in each other they didn't notice her. She’d suddenly been furious and without thinking she purposefully, blindly, just walked right between them, making them break their handhold and part so she could get by.

Well, excuuuuse me,” the man had said, as the woman’s mouth fell open in dismay. Eve had paid no attention, didn’t apologize, didn't flinch, didn't turn around, just kept walking.

            

She started to sob and then choked it back. She had to leave.She had to get out of this house, away from the weight of memory. She ran to the bedroom, grabbed a suitcase, and started cramming clothes into it.

           

An hour later after a stop at the bank and the gas station, Eve was on the highway heading north with no idea where she was going. She could see the mountains on the horizon, faintly blue and shimmering in the sunshine. They seemed to beckon to her so she kept driving toward them without any clear idea of where she was going. She didn’t want to stop for a map because she worried that if she stopped, she’d turn around and go home. She felt rattled, anxious, sweaty, and on the verge of tears but having to concentrate on her driving was the only thing keeping her together at the moment. If she stopped, she feared she’d begin to think, and she didn’t want to think right now, she just wanted to keep driving.

           

She came to a conjunction of highways and several green directional signs, one with an arrow pointing to the west that said Five Lakes Basin. She took the exit. Five lakes. That’s where she’d go. Lakes had cabins. She’d find a cabin. Cabins don’t have garages with automatic door openers, there’d be no ticking clock on the wall. That’s all she wanted right now…a place with no garage door opener and no ticking clock.