On Writing - a favorite scene from This Darkness is Mine

Excerpt from a later chapter...

(Pairs well with music ♫♬ Second Sun by Sun City https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VllseHmQzds )


Michelle talked Joe into letting her travel with him to Atlanta. She’d never seen him so stony, so introverted as he was on the flight. Resting one hand on his thigh, she buried her nose in a book, glancing at him from time to time.

“How’s your book?” Joe asked, absently.

“I can’t concentrate on a single word.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can feel your distance right next to me. I don’t know what you’re going through or what you’re feeling, just know I’m here for you. I’m here with you.” As much as Michelle wanted to soothe his inner turmoil, she knew better than to rush him. She wasn’t altogether sure what he needed or how she’d be able to help.

“I’m sorry, I should have come alone. Some things are beyond words. This I can’t talk about.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

“You don’t need to apologize.” She clasped his hand. “I understand. Whenever you’re ready.” She spoke softly, unsure if he’d ever find words to express the depth of his pain.

Left with the hum of the plane’s engine to jostle with her worry, she ordered a drink from the flight attendant and nursed it for the remainder of the flight.

Outside, the Georgian heat was similar to Florida’s but a cool breeze tempered the savage humidity. They rented a car and drove to the cemetery, barely three words spoken between them. She shivered as he stared icily at the road ahead. Joe parked and they exited the car. Walking in silence, Michelle trailed a step behind, yearning to find a way to stay connected to him. She heard songbirds and for a moment wished they’d sing Amazing Grace, Silent Night, anything to soothe him.

Once they reached Dominica’s headstone, Joe froze, and the songbirds scattered into the breeze. It nearly broke her to watch him weep and convulse with sobs. She grabbed his hand, and his mourning radiated straight into her. She caught sight of clusters of white magnolias and fell in love again, but instead of butterflies, Joe’s abyss yawned open inside her. Angelic love and demonic pain thrashed a violent dance within her, threatening to tear her apart sinew by sinew. Love built up, pain clawed down. She ached to see anguish in his eyes.

With the June sun baking them, they sat at Dominica’s headstone, not touching. His sobs ebbed and he shook his head, reading the engraving on the black granite over and over.

Desperately wanting to break the spell of sadness, Michelle leaned in and whispered, “Babe, can you hear me? Tell me about her.”

A tiny light sparked in Joe’s eyes. “My Dominica? She loved to draw and play piano.”

Michelle’s intuition instructed her to be patient, so she waited for more.

“I remember her last recital like it was yesterday. She played Moonlight Sonata, beautifully, like a real master, and she was only nine years old!” A smile flashed across Joe’s face, caught up in his memories. He paused again, closing his eyes briefly. “When we get home, I’ll show you her drawings, the ones I still have.” Bitterness crept into his voice. “My ex won’t let me have more…”

Michelle shook her head and squeezed his hand. “Dominica. Stay focused on Dominica, babe.”

Joe took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Si si, yes. My daughter could draw trees and flowers and animals. Her favorite thing to draw was horses, and she got very good at it. I was so proud of her, but...”

Michelle waited but his silence wouldn’t break. “But what, babe?”

“But her kidneys turned against her much too soon.” He tilted his chin down, baring gritted teeth. “My little princess warrior. Ah, Dominica. She was so full of life and joy. You would have loved her,” he said, his joy reined in by fire. “Your smile reminds me of hers, lighting up a room like a sun goddess.”

“I’d love for you to show me her drawings.” Michelle squeezed his hand again and tears welled up in her eyes. “Of course I would love her. She sounds wonderful. You know, I’m glad I came with you. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

Nodding, he looked her in the eyes. “And...And I love you for it.”

“You sure? You tried awfully hard to talk me out of coming.” She stroked his arm.

“Si mi amor, I changed my mind,” Joe said. “You changed my mind. ‘I’m going with you, motherfucker, and that’s final.’ I believe those were your exact words.” He cocked his eyebrows.

She couldn’t help but smile. “Mm-hm. You remember that, huh?”

“You.” He relaxed a little and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here, too. I don’t know if I could have handled this grief, it’s more than I can bear. Honestly, I think it could have triggered me, but…”

“But?”

“But it didn’t because you’re here with me. You are my pillar.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m your pillow.”

“Yo meto las manos al fuego por ti.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“One day I’ll tell you,” he said and kissed her hands.

“Why can’t one day be now?”

“You are my pillow.”

Thinking that was the translation, she melted. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me. I’ll never shut you out.” Michelle thought back to wanting to tell stories of her father after he died, and no one would listen. She wouldn’t make Joe suffer like that. Her intuition to draw him out gently turned out to be exactly the right way to be present for him. She rubbed the top of his hands, their physical touch a bridge across the gaping abyss.

Joe spent the next couple hours sharing more stories of Dominica’s vitality and battle for her life until a healing process led him into a soft-edged silence. The wind rustled a few magnolia petals and maple leaves onto the headstone. Michelle gathered them together and tucked them in her purse. They left rings of flowers at her grave, and walked hand-in-hand towards the rental car.

END OF EXCERPT

MACKENZIE
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