One Lonely Night

One Lonely Night

Her eyes glistened with tears as her lips trembled. The face of a woman, so powerful and with undeniable strength, had become weak in the sight of what lay before her. The man she loved. The man she cherished. What made her cry? For love had to be the strongest of all emotions to induce even the smallest of tears

The time was 7:30 on a Monday morning. The smell of gasoline lingered in the air long enough for anyone to notice. Sunlight filtered through the brush. The cry of an animal in the distance startled some doves in the clearing, and they took off in marvellous flight. Metal lay strewn about the grass. A body lay on the ground, eyes closed. A large cut was spread on its leg. A bird flew into the clearing and landed on the body. A throaty cry escaped from its beak, as it drowned out the wail of sirens approaching in the distance.

She slammed the door behind her. Her face was hot as she grabbed her new perfume and flung it forcefully against the wall. That was the perfume that he had bought for her. She didn’t want it anymore. His voice coaxed from the other side of the door. She shouted at him to get away. Throwing herself on the bed and covering her face with one of his shirts, she cried. His voice coaxed constantly, saying ‘Carol, let me in. Let me explain.’ She shouted out ‘no!’ Then cried some more. Time passed with each sob she made. When she caught herself, there was no sound on the other side of the door. A long silence stood between her and the door. Maybe she had been too hard on him, she thought. Maybe he really had a good explanation. She hesitated before she walked toward the door and twisted the handle. Her heart was crying out to her at this moment. He wasn’t there. She called out his name. “Thomas!” Her cries were interrupted by the revving of an engine in the garage. She made it to the window in time to see his Volvo back out the yard. “Thomas! Thomas....wait!” Her cries vanished into thin air as the Volvo disappeared around the bend. Carol grew really angry all of a sudden. How could he leave? He’ll sleep on the couch when he gets back. Those were her thoughts.

Thomas was fuming. At the same time, however, he felt guilt in his heart. Stacy was very attractive, yes! Her blond hair and her blue eyes certainly melted hearts. Yet, it didn’t melt his. She wore the tightest and shortest suits he had ever seen, and they showed off every curve in his body. However, none of these things mattered to Thomas. His wife at home was what he cherished. That was what he longed to get back to at the end of every day. Stacy was a good secretary, he must admit. Yet, she burdened him with flirts and suggestive questions. The men at his workplace figured it out a long time ago. They called him everything, from stupid to scared, because he wouldn’t go with Stacy. As he drove along the Main Road at 8pm on that Sunday night, he thought about the things that took place that day. How Stacy had twisted her ankle in work. He thought of how he was the only one with a car to take her home. He remembered how when he dropped her off, she blackmailed him sorely, telling him that if he did not spend an hour with her, she would call his wife and tell her that he was cheating. Recalling the moment, he stayed at her home and learned that Stacy’s husband and only child died in an accident a mere four years before. They talked for a long time, and Thomas did not leave that house until nearly three hours after. They said their goodbyes and Thomas had headed home. Now, as he turned into a street to head back home, he thought of the situation and wondered if nothing made sense anymore.

Carol checked the time. It was an hour later since Thomas had gone and her eyes were swollen, her cheeks were flustered and red, and his shirt was wet. She got up and went down into the kitchen and drank a glass of water. The telephone rang. She ran to it and answered. The dial tone mocked her. She wondered if it was Thomas’s workplace. They had phoned earlier asking if he had come home yet. She had told them ‘no’ at the time. They told her how a lady at work got injured and he went to drop her home, but he should have been back a long time ago. She was as surprised as the person on the other end of the line. She had hung up and called Thomas, only to receive a dial tone. She called him about three times after that. Carol had then turned as mad as a mother hen. She had waited home with the phone next to her on the couch. She had heard the Volvo come into the yard, the doorknob turn, his briefcase drop, his keys hit the glass table.... She had seen the surprised, or was it guilty-as-charged, face when he saw her. His shirt was out of his pants, and that was what got to her. She had screamed in his face “Thomas, you lying, conniving....!” Carol grabbed a tissue as a tear threatened to escape from the brim of her eyelids. She