Written October 17, 1995, Revised June 11, 1997
The curios from our mantel crashed around my head shattering pieces of porcelain into my hair. Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, and our trip to Niagara Falls all disappeared into tiny fragments and white powder.
“You son-of-a-bitch!” screamed my wife. “You fucking-son-of-a-bitch”
It had always been a dream to own our own home. It had taken awhile, a lot of scrimping and saving, and now that we had it, all the happiness that we shared in those “love and peanut butter” years exploded one at a time against the wall.
Things hadn’t been going very well in our marriage, in the bedroom. It didn’t start until just after we bought the house and I found the stain in the garage. The brown of the stain was almost unrecognizable, but the smell was unmistakable. When I first saw it, bile rose in my throat, and I had to run out of the house.
I have a problem with blood and death. When I was a kid growing up in New Orleans, there was this family next door who had a girl my age named Eileen, and Eileen had this big German shepherd named Jack. We were coming back from an airshow near Baton Rouge. Eileen, her brother Wyman, and Jack were in the back of their pick-up as we were driving home. My family followed in our sedan. We found out later that Jack had been improperly tied. Dogs are supposed to be tied with a short leash to the center of the truckbed. In any case, I guess Eileen’s dad didn’t know that. Something spooked Jack — It might have been a backfire, another animal by the highway, I don’t know. Anyway, we could tell it was going to happen right before it did. Jack reared back onto his haunches and sprung right out of the moving pickup. Jack was still tied to the truck and I saw him get pulled under the wheels. I closed my eyes and tried to turn away, but the sounds were inescapable. And the smell: the smell was unmistakable. I don’t remember the rest of that day.
Eileen was the only girl who ever took the time to talk to me back then. Nobody else seemed to want anything to do with me, but Eileen always seemed to find the time. On Valentine’s day once, she gave me this little porcelain dog holding a heart in its mouth — my first curio. Even though it might have cost next to nothing at the town store, to me it was more precious than all the gold in Fort Knox.
Eileen was really quite special. To this day, I sometimes feel as though she was the love of my life. I guess it’s no surprise then, that when my new co-worker Erin reminded me of her, I was in for trouble. My home life had already disintegrated. Janet had begun nagging me about this or that, never letting up, never letting me remember just how much I loved her. It got so bad that I started working late just to avoid her. I would have never thought that I could feel such animosity towards her, but I did.
I couldn’t help my problem either. I was going to the doctor. I even went to a psychiatrist. He said that it would take something cathartic to snap me out of it, but who had time for catharsis? Work took up most of my time; Janet’s haranguing took the rest.
Erin and I had this client meeting in Biloxi and traveled overnight to get there. This didn’t make Janet feel any better, not that I can blame her. Erin had been listening to me talk about my marital problems and was really sympathetic. The meeting went very well, and we landed a huge contract. A year’s worth of work paid off; We celebrated with dinner and champagne. She really reminded me of Eileen, and maybe it was the stain in the house the whole time, but one thing led to another and I wound up explaining to my wife, as my curios exploded one by one into the wall around my head.
Mt. Rushmore, the Empire State Building, and all of Disneyland vanished. Janet, relentless in her destruction, shattered my memories one by one until only the little dog was left. She grasped it in her fist, and for the first time I rose above my guilt and shame.
“Don’t you dare.”
“Why, because your precious Erin gave this to you?”
“Eileen.” I corrected.
“Whatever.”
“I’ve let you destroy everything so far, but I won’t let you destroy that. If you’d just let me explain.”
“I heard you. And I don’t care. I don’t care about your precious statue either.”
“Let me explain.” I repeated.
“I don’t care! You never really loved me. All your excuses about impotence were bullshit, apparently you weren’t so impotent that you couldn’t fuck her.”
“They weren’t excuses and you know it.” I said in an even voice. “You know it was because of that stain in the garage. This was a mistake, this – just happened.”
“It’s just oil, damn you! I’ve heard you blame that stain for our marriage for a year now. It’s just oil, you lying cheating bastard!”
Janet wound back her arm to hurl the statuette but I rushed forward and caught her wrist before she could throw it. She struggled and kneed me in the groin. I started to crumple, but managed to wrest the porcelain away from her.
Janet crouched back very feral and seethed. “Go, get out of here you son of a bitch. Take your precious statue with you! You love it more than you ever loved me anyway. Get out of here, do you hear me? Go back fuck that slut Eileen.”
When she said that, something in me snapped. I dropped the statue of the little dog, and struck my wife across the face. I stumbled back, horrified at what I had done. Janet just turned away, and without another word, left me.
I felt as if electricity was shocking my brain. There was blood on my hand. The dog was in pieces. The room seemed to shrink further and further away, until I was in my parent’s sedan again.
We were coming back from an airshow near Baton Rouge. Eileen, her brother Wyman, and Jack were in the back of their pick-up as we were driving home. My family followed in our sedan. Something spooked Jack. He reared back onto his haunches, and sprung right out of the moving pickup. Before anyone could do anything Eileen leapt after him to stop him. She got tangled in Jack’s leash and was pulled under the wheels.
I close my eyes and try to turn away, but the sounds are inescapable.