Behind Closed Doors

“Mommy?” A little voice woke Mother out of her reverie. “Mommy?”

“Yes, dear.” Her voice was shaking. Stop that!

She looked up desperately at Hangman, but his eyes were dead and cold.

“Yes, dear.” She managed a small smile. That’s better. Still a little shaky though.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. It’ll only hurt for a second, I promise.”

“Where’s Daddy? I want Daddy.”

“He’s got to work, sweetie.” He’s right behind you, if only you could see him. Please, Hangman. Not this. Please?

“But I don’t like getting shots.”

“It’s okay, sweetie, I know what I’m doing.” Oh, do I ever. Please?

Numb, she prepared the first needle.

“Who’s first?”

“I will. He’s too chicken.” Angel hadn’t spoken all day.

“Am not!”

“Am too!”

“Are too.” He said it with extra emphasis.

Angel made a face at her brother.

“I’m still going first.”

Mother held her daughter’s arm and found the vein she needed.

“Will you tell me about your day at school, honey?”

“Okay. Miss Holland told us a really funny story today about a panda in a zoo. ‘Cause the panda wanted …”

She was in full medical mode now. Nothing could stop her. She reached for the needle.

“… Mommy?”

“Don’t worry, honey, it won’t hurt too much. Look, your sister will show you.”

“Mommy?”

“It’s okay, honey, let me do my job.”

“Mommy?”

“Yes! What is it?”

“Why are you crying, Mommy?”

Mother put the needle down and felt her cheek. It was damp. She wiped off her hand and grabbed the needle purposefully.

“Nothing, sweetie. I just wish your father could be here. Now let me do my job.” I love you, my darlings.

From behind the children, Hangman laughed.

I hate you, she told him. I hate you.

Mother left the room alone.

***

“Hello, love!”

A ridiculous giggle came bubbling up from Mother’s insides. She shut the door on it and went to greet her husband.

“Hello.” She gave him her best smile.

He dropped his coat on his briefcase and made her smile wider.

Letting her go, he looked up the stairs. “Where are those infernal children?”

“They have swimming lessons today, honey. You know that.”

“Thank God. I don’t think I could stand them right now. I’ve seen nothing but kids and needles all day.”

“Don’t say that, sweetie.”

He grabbed her waist and drew her towards the closed door.

“But as long as they aren’t here …”

“Mmm …” She drew away quickly, her voice suddenly very even. “I made a roast, and there’s baked potatoes and beans from the garden. Could you fix the wall hanging in the living room? It’s been driving me quite mad all day. Oh, and the kids have to be picked up before we eat.”

The disappointment on his face quickly gave way to tolerant amusement.

“Yes, dear.” He headed to his workshop. “Let me just get a hammer.”

Oh, and Hangman? Don’t forget to take out the trash. The kitchen reeks of unwanted leftovers.

Riiiing.

Mother doubled over. What is that noise? Somebody stop it!

Riiiing.

Why won’t it stop?

Riiii-

There was a pause. Mother stood up, wiped her hands on her skirt, and checked on dinner.

“Honey?”

She could feel each thud of his torturously slow ascent.

“Honey? Did you know that the kids didn’t get to swimming today?”

“What?” Of course they didn’t, Hangman. Everything happened just as you planned.

“Yeah, the instructor just called, wondering if we’d forgotten to bring them.”

“Well, no … it’s right next door – they walk there themselves now. They’re old enough.”

“Well they didn’t go.”

“Well, they certainly didn’t come here.”

“Well, what now?”

Mother looked around for something to say and found it in the window. Security.

“Call the police?”

“There must be someone else we can call first.”

“Call the other parents.”

Mother went through the address book and found the little slip of paper.

“The Thompsons?” Her finger slid over the names. “Should I call the Thompsons?”

“Call everyone.”

Yes, Hangman. Let’s cover your tracks. Together. As a family.

Another of those silly giggles erupted from her belly and she threw herself into a fit of coughing.

“Are you alright, sweetie? Here, let me call.”

Sure, Hangman. You be the good, worried parent. You call. I will make dinner for our family of four and act like I don’t know what you’ve done to my babies.

She put the potatoes and the roast in the oven to keep warm and returned to her bedroom. The closed door was a comfort, but Hangman was with her always. She couldn’t look in his eyes anymore. All she saw was the needle.

Why, Hangman? Why them? Why us?

She picked up Lamb’s blankie as though she had never seen it before.

Why me?

She dried her eyes with the backs of her hands and stole out of the room, the now slightly damp rag in her hand.

Time to hide the evidence, Hangman. Into the bag it goes.

“What are you doing in the hallway, honey?”

She stood very still, staring at the door to the outside.

“Honey, I called everyone. I don’t think they’re coming home.”

He turned her away from the door and they walked past the bedroom into the kitchen.

“I’ve called the cops. Let’s try to eat something before they get here, okay?”

Yes, dear. Hangman always knows what’s best.

***

“I’m going to have to take that blanket, ma’am. It’s evidence.” The officer spoke softly, but Mother continued to bawl into the blanket.

“Here. Take it. Take my husband too, the bastard.”

“Now, ma’am, we have no proof yet, so let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“He killed my babies!” Hangman killed my babies!

The officer sighed and sealed the plastic bag.

“We’ll be doing what we can, ma’am. Your husband will be going with us. We’re going to have to keep searching the house, though – Is there a place you can stay?”

Mother mumbled something about a sister uptown, and the officer left her alone.

You always did hate my babies.

Another giggle started up from deep within her and she hid her face in her hands until she was quite sure she was alone. Then she threw her head back and laughed as loudly as she dared until the laughing frightened her so that she began to giggle nervously, staring at the closed door in front of her.

Hangman, you frighten me. Leave me be!

After all I’ve done, what do you need now?

He reached towards her, arms offering.

There was something in his hands, but she dared not look.

Hangman, Hangman, let me be.

Say the noose is not for me.

Hangman, Hangman, go away.

Tell me you aren’t here to stay.

Sway.

The swaying motion soothed Mother as she stood. She was dancing, now. Now he was twirling her, now dipping, now lifting, lifting, higher – too high. Her feet were off the ground, but the swaying didn’t end. He muffled her words with his own and she swayed into a deep rest.

My babies …

Hangman left the room alone.

Elaine

Oh my goodness I actually wrote a song again! And I’m pretty damn happy with it, too! It’s written for one of my very best friends. Her name is Elaine in case you couldn’t guess. I miss her (also in case you couldn’t guess). <3

Elaine

each time it rains

i miss elaine

i miss the way

she could always make me smile

each little pain

it leaves a stain

i can’t explain

but i miss her

and each time it’s raining

i’ll be complaining

i’ll be explaining

how i feel

to someone new

but it’s not the same

she’s not elaine

she doesn’t know

all the thoughts i’m thinking now

but if she were waiting

i’d be hesitating

i’d be betraying

how i feel

to someone new

but it’s not the same

she’s not elaine

she doesn’t know

all the lives that we’ve gone through

it’s not a feeling

it’s got no reason

well, i’ve got a reason

but it’s just the way i feel

don’t ask me questions

don’t look for answers

’cause i’ve got an answer

but it wouldn’t make you see

’cause it’s not a feeling

it’s got no reason

i’ve got my reasons

but i’ll keep them to myself

and each time it’s raining

i’ll be complaining

i’ll be explaining

how i feel

to someone new

but it’s not the same

she’s not elaine

she doesn’t know

all the thoughts i’m thinking now

but if she were waiting

i’d be hesitating

i’d be betraying

how i feel

to someone new

but it’s not the same

she’s not elaine

she doesn’t know

all the lives that we’ve gone through

so each time it rains

i tell you

i’ll miss elaine

i know that

i’ll miss the way

that she knew me

the new one

doesn’t know

… But I Wish I Did

No,

I don’t.

I don’t get it…

No,

I don’t.

I don’t understand…

No,

I don’t.

I don’t like it…

No,

I don’t.

I don’t see the plan…

I don’t see solutions

When I look in your eyes

I don’t see the reasons

For all of my whys

No

I don’t get it,

I don’t understand,

I don’t like it,

I don’t see the plan,

I don’t,

I don’t.

No.

Bronson and Sunnyside: Variations on a Theme

/

innocence frolics inside its soap bubble:

not a soul could know its true name.

//

The young couple-

Not yet lovers-

Naive,

Skip

And frolic

Oblivious to danger.

Safe…

Or not.

warnings of a loving mother

players

only play

the game they know

build yourself a wall

and save

yourself

who

a thousand cups of sugar couldn’t be as sweet as you

a snowflake in a thousand as unique as what you do

a whisper badly understood can’t hold a candle to

the mystery you hold, the way you let me start anew

What else?

I think it’s been days since I held the belief

That you could provide any form of relief

So spare me the talking

And stop me from balking

It’s all I can do …

It’s all I can do.

The Land of Everlasting Dreams

I’ve only ever told you that I’m doing just fine

I’ve never really wanted to admit what could be mine

It’s not a faint expression of my sorrow-based guilt

But I feel an awful lot like this is not the way I’m built

So take away the guilty thoughts

And make me close my eyes

And speak to me of pleasure I can reap from all the lies

I don’t want you to hesitate

I don’t want your reason

So skip the explanation and let’s move to the next season

Fix me, now, I’m helpless like a new tree in a storm

I am very new to this, a child barely born

I don’t want to hesitate

So don’t expect too much

But I don’t want to miss a step

Or miss a gentle touch

Feelings I have thought about

If only in my dreams

Have blurred the lines from fear to pleasure hidden in my screams

Hesitate. But if you do, I hope you understand-

The things you do mean I can’t let you stand here as my man

Reason never fails me but the men in my life might

So please believe it’s not a case of trusting what is right

I can’t express my feelings

‘Cause I don’t know what they are

So take me nearer to you thought I’ll still feel rather far

Whispers always wonder why I am and why I’m not

But every time I stop to think I find I’m lost in thought

I need someone near to me to talk me through my life

I am not prepared to think on being someone’s wife

If I could explain my thoughts to my own satisfaction

You wouldn’t wait too long, perhaps, until you had some action

Speak to me ’cause I need help and can’t express it rightly

Hold me near and hold me close and always hold me tightly

Don’t let go, ’cause if you do, I’m bound to drift away

And drowning looks so pleasant when they’re willing just to stay

I’d lay awhile on the lake, the ocean or the stream

And leave my mind to walk the land of Everlasting Dreams

Speak of flowing oceans or the calm waves of the sea

Spread my thoughts like butter so they’re plain for us to see

Wish for swift recovery so I can find my mind

It seems to have gone off to dreams and left me far behind

I don’t understand the rhyme or reason of my course

So help me learn the ways of such a strongly pulling force.

a struggle with words

There is no i in you.

There is no you in i.

There is no you, there is no i,

In we – but we can try.

There is no i.o.u.

There is no you and i.

There is no owe, there is no end,

To us – I wonder why …

actor and director

it seems like i’m an actor in an ever-changing play
someone planned the things i do and wrote the things i say
it seems as though i’m living in a shroud of mem’ries past
and the things i thought i didn’t want are within reach at last
it seems for just this moment that the times will always change
but my acting, though improving, stays within my current range
it seems to me that nothing that i’m living makes much sense
my reflection may be perfect but i’m really tired and tense

it doesn’t seem to be my fault but guilt is all around me
a daemon slicing rest within the deep end where you found me
it doesn’t seem quite fair to all the people in my life
so keep me from the dangerous seduction of my knife
it doesn’t seem impossible to be loved and to love
yet e’en sharp words cannot escape the shroud and float above
it doesn’t seem as right as what i thought they promised me
just keep me from my faulty past, let my knife set me free