high noon

Its' not noon, not even close but it feels like that movie..she hopes it's the right name,everything seems kind of blurry by now.

The morning started out promising, she got up at 6:00 on a sunday, got a head start, made pancakes and even managed to balance a few plates of cut fruit ,set the table for morning, gave instructions to the boys transfixed on the playstation game  "make a face" and was off with the dog for a morning walk before the puppy had a chance to have an "accident" she had to clean up..like an African woman balancing the water jugs that's what life felt like but she could breath again after long years of suffication..unlike the rabbits ,the cage door was open and she jumped out ,i am free! was the thought running through her mind as she walked over the bridge to the woods ,some of the water frozen but most of it still flowing..free...at last..leaving the feuding boys behind..her husband will be there at 10:00 to pick them up..she would cross that bridge when she had to ..for now all was well with the world..

Dog talk, the puppy's friendliness , her pure joy running in the frozen field

chasing after someone else's ball ..

She returned home just in time, ten minutes to go..the boys were all ready , have been since they got up..they haven't seen their father for a week now ever since the last confrontation..she had also returned from walking the dog when he exploded ..he was like a ticking bomb, always has been since they married 10 years ago but at the beginning the explosions were well spaced, that and his clever manipulative style ensured she was flooded with self doubt by the time the next bomb exploded..now he was gone, he left ,not taking his toothbrush,leaving everything down to the last sock as a sore reminder, i will be back!

She sent the boys to the playground near the parking lot to wait for their father and waited by the kitchen's window, hardly daring to look out ,could only see the corner of the playground anyway, the edge of the slide and the boys were not into sliding any more..

At 11:00 she dared to take a peek and the conclusion: he is gone, he took the children and she had till evening time for herself..

First thing she prepared breakfast ,cornflakes with milk, how mundane! and yet sane..then sweeped a bit the floor and washed the kitchen floor,then she went back to bed with her latest novel , the one she has been trying to finish ..on buses and at night time ,falling asleep and losing it in the blanket for weeks now.

She finished the book,copied down a quote:

"These novels will give way, by and by, to diaries or autobiographies-captivating books, if only a man knew how to choose among what he calls his experiences and how to record truth truly."

                                              Ralph Waldo Emerson

what did that mean? pondering over the meaning of the words-another hour and a half..then she forced herself to put on her boots and get out of the apartment,escaping..outside the air was cold ,yesterday's sun all gone..

She walked around town with the puppy stopping to buy chestnuts from the man infront of the biggest department shop in town..there were not so many people, "quiet for a sunday", she remarked to the man with the black fingernails poking the coals with a  stick, one side was chestnuts , the other peanuts.."too cold for people to come out?"

"Everyone's out iceskating", answered the man with an air  seemingly of superiority but really just a large distance typical of  switzerland, the "please don't touch me,keep your distance", like people standing in line to take out money from the automat banking system, it always seemed to her people insisted on a very large radius of personal space..even when  there was no danger of anyone seeing the secret code..

It was getting late, there were few ducks to watch ,she forgot the bread and after chatting to a man with a jack russle, who played with her puppy and making the joke that her puppy was a jack russle under cover,  being all tan with a bit of white , she headed towards the tram home..while waiting for the tram she stopped by the photo automat and decided to take a photo of her and the puppy and send it her friend from England who wrote her faithfully once a week complaining about her boys and encouraging her to take on new ventures..as she stood next to the machine waiting for the tram and the 5 minutes to pass she tried to avoid making eye contact with the bearded man with holes in his shoes always   holding a bottle much like a toddler, only it was with beer..he was mumbeling words totally incoherent to his pals, the torn shoed unshaven men who greeted him warmly, "how about a cigarette?well, next time then?"

well, at least he has friends she thought going back to her old habit of feeling sorry for herself..

Coming home she felt the need to be home battle the need to avoid meeting her husband, making plans for the boys' vacation, probobly what will start civilized and in control will end up cruel and vicious..yet she hd hoped he might leave the boys to go up the stairs alone and not come up..perhaps after all the last time he was escorted  by the  police..

To the boys they had told "room noise level"(Zimmer laut stark) while they indulged in whatever loud verbal abuse there was.

At 19.30 the puppy barked excitedly in the bark reserved for the loved and much missed..the boys walked in with their father, three  that are one..he sat down at the table without a word and took  a plate of food.

"I only made enough for 3", she muttered under her breath ,silence that continued,she escaped to her room as she did often when he was around, not wanting to hear what he would tell the boys , correcting their behaviour ...she turned to her diary and wrote trying to make the bad taste in her mouth go away..

she all of the sudden reached a conclusion and stood ,walked to the table removing the dishes ,the bottle of ketschup the boys used to drown any taste the food may have,the squeezed tube of mayonaise, the plates,glasses, juice and then simply shot the words like bullets straight to his heart " Are you going soon ? It is soon the boy's bedtime",

That was the first shot she wished to avoid but ended up producing nontheless..afterwards followed  yells,screams, threats, put downs, of a rich variety, a box of assorted poison chocolates offered to her ,just choose one !

Again she fell into the argument trap knowing she will never win, he will scream louder, be stronger at putting  down, insulting, twisting her words to insults against her, leaving no words told in confidence untold and all as the boys sat and listened horrified at first and then started to jump around and hit eachother with pillows or whatever they could find..all hell broke loose ..the horror movie scenerio..

"You can not stay here anymore!"

the first shot that shattered his fragile ego and as it lay on the floor fluttering like a moth on the brink of death it regained strength and made holes in her arguments, her words had been thrown back to her and she felt she had shot herself in the foot..

yet she preserved her stand and after much protest he took a few pairs of socks insisting again that he had spent the last 7 nights sleeping in his car not realizing how hard it would be for his seven year old son to hide from his mother his request that he not tell his mother he is staying in an hotel on the edge of town, that it is a secret she must not know.

Guns have been drawn, injuries caused but the gravest of those would not come to light till decades after the battle, long after the gun smoke  cleared and the air was fresh and cold again.