Chapter Two

Chapter Two.

Sharon was sitting on the small bridge over the Credit River. The sun was warm and dragonflies hovered about. The last of the spawning salmon lay dead after their long journey’s end, scattered on the banks and in the river. Beautifully the colours of Fall leaves sprinkled gently off their trees and a few wild ducks floated idly in the slow stream. Sharon felt sick, lame and lonely. She had packed her things to leave and she needed to ponder her next move, and here she was at her muse on the river contemplating her life and where it will lead her.

She had brought two suitcases upstairs to her bedroom from the basement, and had laid them open on the bed. Packing only her best clothes, her nicest shoes and all her jewellery, but on the fourth trip from the closet the bags were jammed full. “Why do I have so much stuff?” She hit her fists on her thighs in her frustration. “Fucking burn these things!” she screamed. Angrily, she settled on taking only her essentials, so she stuffed her passport and legal documents into a large handbag. She took her toiletry from the washroom and threw those in too. In the mirror over the basin seeing herself she thought, this is how I look like when I end this life and enter another. The tears were streaming down her face and she looked at her dark sad eyes and her quivering mouth and she felt sorry for the image that looked desperately back at her, seeing her reflection as if she was not in her own body but someone.  

She lifted the bag and the suitcase, grateful that she could handle them without help. She stopped on the landing, quietly listening to her home, knowing she will never hear the familiar sounds again. At the door she reached for the bunch of car keys, and just as she was about to open the door when the doorbell rang! She could see a man’s figure through the glass in the door, and her mood lifted spontaneously. He came! She flew open the door only to find a policeman standing there. “Hello,” he said, “is this the home of the Peters?”

“Yes,” Sharon said, sensing her disappointment mounting. “No, they live next door.” She corrected herself.

“Okay, sorry to disturb you, you have a good day!” He left giving her a brilliant smile.

Sharon stood at the doorway stunned. He looked exactly like Roger. God was playing a very cruel game with her. It was uncanny and unsettling, and she needed to get some air. And that is how she ended up at the river. The cool air was refreshing and it cleared her mind and lifting her out of the stale, sad mood. Her natural happiness started to seep back in. She sighed, she wanted to be bitter, but she had to admit that it was nice to wake up alone this morning. What was so suddenly wrong with the entire world just because someone decided to leave her? Sharon brooded staring into the river. Nothing was wrong, she shrugged her shoulders as she pondered, everything in the Universe still rotates and all is well and now here she was, standing at this crystal clear river, at a gorgeous spot on the face of this planet, owning up to the Spirits that she was officially single again. She could not be bothered to leave the house that she had looked after all these years, the home she made for her family, the hearth of her life, the place her children knew where she would be. To leave would be to create something she had not planned for this day. So, she walked back to her house, put her clothes away, put the suitcases back in their place in the basement, and started to finish the rest of her day just like she had planned it. With the laundry in, rolling about in its metal box with the pothole window, Sharon had her wireless headset on listening to the story in her iPod playing an audio book. She moved easily putting things away, feeling good and getting better and better in her head with each object that she touched. She loved her children; their things were her anchor holding her here.

At the fridge she rummaged looking for what was asking to be made into dinner. She never worked with a recipe, one of her many ills, she thought, reminiscing how her family never knew what they were going to eat, and nothing ever tasted the same, because she made food the way she felt it needed to be made with what was available to her.  Sharon had just taken a few things out from the fridge and she was matching them with things she pulled out of the pantry and was contemplating what to make, when the doorbell rang again!. She looked up at the front door and she saw the figure of her new neighbor standing there. Sharon froze, she didn’t want to see her again, she waited hoping she would go away, but the figure just stood there obviously expecting to be welcomed. Shutting her eyes tightly, Sharon and gnashing her teeth, she reluctantly went to open the door.

“Hi Rita,” Sharon said coldly.

“Hi, Sharon,” Rita said, “Could I borrow your WiFi? I need to look for a job, I won’t come into your house, I’ll just be out here. I promise I will only use it for an hour a day, maybe two, just to look for a job.”

Sharon shook her head, “No, I don’t know the WiFi or anything around here.” She closed the door quickly and took a step back, looking through the glass at the woman standing desperately outside and heavily carrying her own loneliness inside.