{"id":15629,"date":"2019-10-14T05:00:33","date_gmt":"2019-10-14T09:00:33","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/bullmensfiction.com\/?p=15629"},"modified":"2022-08-03T13:13:01","modified_gmt":"2022-08-03T17:13:01","slug":"a-road-disappearing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/fiction\/a-road-disappearing\/","title":{"rendered":"A Road Disappearing"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>I am an ugly man. Not on the inside, where it counts, but on the outside where it hurts. Unfortunately, the outside is the first thing people see when they meet you. I\u2019ve come to realize that a lot of people think that if you\u2019re handsome or beautiful, you\u2019re good or smart or even kind, which, of course, can be far from the truth. I remember my own mother, after the accident, gently holding my face in her hands and saying, \u201cMy dear, sweet, wonderful boy. You will always be you. And that is a good thing.\u201d What have I heard from others about myself? I\u2019ve heard people say that I have a face only a mother can love. I heard a woman at church say \u201cAs ugly as a mud fence\u201d when she thought I couldn\u2019t hear her. My mother heard the woman, too, and told her, \u201cHis heart is as pure as gold. And really, shouldn\u2019t that be the only thing that matters?\u201d She went on to remind the woman, \u201cWe\u2019re all Christians here.\u201d The woman was shamed, that\u2019s for sure, and never looked my way after that.<\/p>\n<p>My mother\u2014and the rest\u2014they\u2019re all gone, but now I have Marnie and I\u2019m no longer alone. Twenty years younger than me and beautiful\u2014inside and out. By middle age, I\u2019d pretty much gotten used to my face, my mug, gotten used to the little winces on clerks\u2019 faces when they look up and see me for the first time or the doctor\u2019s, \u201cHave you ever considered more surgery?\u201d But that day at the 7-Eleven when I handed Marnie my money, she didn\u2019t wince, she didn\u2019t whisper to her coworkers while I was on my way out the door. She just smiled as if she didn\u2019t see the scars at all. I went back every morning to buy coffee and a donut. Then one day I got there late, and when I got up to the register she handed me a small bag and said, \u201cI saved this for you. They were almost gone.\u201d When I got out to the car I saw that she\u2019d written on a napkin, \u201cYou seem like a really sweet guy\u201d with a smiley face and her name and phone number.<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019m still surprised that Marnie picked me, of all the men she could have had. Other people are just as surprised. I\u2019ve even heard strangers say, \u201cWhat\u2019s that beautiful girl doing with a guy like him?\u201d And suddenly, I\u2019m just as self-conscious as I was when I was a boy. Truthfully, I wonder about that myself. She\u2019s not always an easy person to live with, given her moods. But she has that under control most of the time with medication. She has a hard time with any kind of stress, which is why I convinced her to quit her job and just stay home and take care of the house. She likes that, and she\u2019s been a lot better since then.<\/p>\n<p>This all comes to mind when Marnie and I walk up the steps to her mother\u2019s house. I put out my hand out to the old woman and say, \u201cHello,\u201d but she just looks at me and nods. Is she reacting to what she sees or the fact that I\u2019m the man who has taken her daughter away and has now come for her grandchild? Marnie has told me that as far as her mother was concerned, no man would ever be good enough, so don\u2019t take it personal.<\/p>\n<p>Marnie\u2019s mother has packed some of the child\u2019s clothes in a little suitcase, pink with a ballerina on it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThis is just for the weekend,\u201d Grandma says, as if I don\u2019t already know that. \u201cI raised her since she was a baby. There\u2019s no way I\u2019m going to just let her go off with \u2026with\u2026someone I don\u2019t know.\u201d She doesn\u2019t say, \u201cWith the likes of you,\u201d but that\u2019s how it feels.<\/p>\n<p>The girl is five and when she stands next to Marnie, she comes up to her hip. She says to Marnie, \u201cIf you marry him, will he be my father then?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I start to say, \u201cI\u2019d like to be,\u201d but the grandmother jumps in and says, \u201cWell, we\u2019ll see how this goes. I\u2019ll call on Sunday to make sure everything\u2019s okay. To see if she wants to stay or not. That ought to give the child some time.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Marnie must take after her father. There is no resemblance between Marnie and her mother. Marnie with her long, beautiful legs, her smooth, creamy skin, a face like a princess. The grandmother, a worn-out old hen with a face like Popeye\u2019s. The girl doesn\u2019t really look like either of them. Who does she look like, I wonder. No one I\u2019ve ever seen Marnie with. She told me it was a brief affair. She thought they were going to get married, and then as soon as she told him she was pregnant, he turned into one of those guys who had other plans. When Marnie told her mother the news, the old woman said, \u201cYou sure know how to pick them. I told you he was no good, but you never listen.\u201d And when the baby was born, she told Marnie, \u201cWell, nobody will marry you now.\u201d By the time she told me that, I already knew the woman was a piece of work.<\/p>\n<p>I tell the grandmother, \u201cI don\u2019t know if Marnie mentioned it, but I own my own home and there\u2019s a few acres around it. It\u2019s a great place for a child.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I expect her to be impressed, but she says, \u201cHow nice for you.\u201d I\u2019m glad I didn\u2019t tell her that my mom left me the place or that there\u2019s a building out back where I work on people\u2019s cars. Even though I get lots of business, I have the feeling that she\u2019d think this kind of life is beneath her daughter.<\/p>\n<p>There\u2019s nothing left to do but pick up the little suitcase and tell the grandmother, \u201cWe\u2019ll take good care of her.\u201d She gives me this level look and says, \u201cSee that you do.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>All this time, the girl\u2014Lily\u2014has been walking around and around Marnie like she\u2019s doing ring around the rosy. She stops, looks me in the eyes, and says, \u201cWhat happened to you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Marnie puts her hand up to her mouth.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s okay,\u201d I say. She is, after all, just a kid, and it\u2019s the kind of stuff kids want to know. So I tell her, quietly, \u201cAn accident. Just an accident. I was running and fell on something hard.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t ask anymore questions,\u201d Marnie tells her, looking concerned. \u201cDon\u2019t be mean, Lily. Just don\u2019t be mean.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And then it\u2019s time to go.<\/p>\n<p>Driving out to the farm, Lily doesn\u2019t say anything, and I think, I should enjoy the quiet. You know how kids are.<\/p>\n<p>Marnie keeps turning around to the backseat and smiling at her daughter. She looks like she\u2019s come up with an invention that will make us rich.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnybody hungry?\u201d I say, glancing at the girl in the rearview mirror. I thought the mention of food would cheer her up, but she looks at me as if I\u2019ve just offered her a worm.<\/p>\n<p>We stop at the A&amp;W drive-in restaurant where Marnie and her daughter inform me that they\u2019ll be getting a foot-long to share. I order myself a couple of hamburgers with the works and, of course, root beer for everyone. I figure, what kid can resist root beer, right? But when the drinks come, she hands hers back to me and says, \u201cI can\u2019t drink this. Grandma says only a fool puts ice in root beer. Make sure they serve it cold with no ice.\u201d I get this straightened out and when I hand her the drink, she delivers a \u201cThank you\u201d that\u2019s as ice cold as the drink.<\/p>\n<p>When she starts talking more, I kind of wish she wouldn\u2019t. It\u2019s all what Grandma would do and what she wouldn\u2019t. Her Grandma wouldn\u2019t show up an hour late for an appointment. I don\u2019t tell her we were late because Marnie kept hemming and hawing and changing her mind about what to wear. Lily says her Grandma looks people in the eyes when she meets them. And her old Grandma wouldn\u2019t drive a car with only one headlight that works. In fact, Grandma doesn\u2019t drive at all. The child makes driving sound like a thing of suspicion, at which point I breathe a big sigh of relief because that means Grandma won\u2019t be coming out to visit unless she wants to spring for a hundred-dollar cab ride out to the country.<\/p>\n<p>I say to the girl, \u201cImagine, if you come live with us for good, like your mother wants, you\u2019ll see your mom all the time, not just on weekends. She doesn\u2019t have to work anymore, so she can spend a lot of time with you. And when you\u2019re sixteen we\u2019ll buy you a little car. A car just right for a girl. One of those compacts. I bet I could get something for a few thousand bucks and fix it up like new.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>This interests her. She chews thoughtfully, both hands around her hot dog bun. Maybe she\u2019s thinking I\u2019m not so bad after all, which is probably a dangerous thought to a child who\u2019s used to being with an old grandma, a mother who comes to visit, and no dad, no man, anywhere in sight. I have the feeling she is torn between saving up this news about the car to spring on her grandma when she returns and talking more about the kind of car we\u2019ll get for her.<\/p>\n<p>But Marnie says, \u201cDon\u2019t tell Grandmother about the car, Lily.\u201d Marnie never learned to drive. The old woman probably thought if Marnie could drive, she\u2019d drive away from her as fast as she could.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe have a dog you can play with,\u201d I say. I feel proud. I paid a lot for Molly at a dog show. She\u2019s a purebred golden retriever. The people who had her tried to breed her and the puppies didn\u2019t turn out the way they\u2019d hoped. That\u2019s why I got her cheaper than full price.<\/p>\n<p>Lily stops chewing. The hot dog hits the floor.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cA dog?\u201d she says. \u201cYou have a dog?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I start telling her all about Molly when she says, with panic on her face, \u201cI\u2019m allergic to dogs. Grandma says I can\u2019t have a dog. Ever.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh. Well,\u201d I start to say but she goes on, gathering steam.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI get real sick around dogs. I can\u2019t breathe. My throat swells up.\u201d She looks at Marnie like she already has something stuck in her throat.<\/p>\n<p>Marnie has this stricken look on her face. \u201cI forgot,\u201d she says in a small voice.<\/p>\n<p>Oh, my God. She forgot.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s an outdoor dog,\u201d I say, quickly. \u201cShe stays outside all the time.\u201d I turn slightly and wink at Marnie.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d Marnie chimes in. \u201cWe hardly ever let her in the house.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>We smile at each other, united in our lie.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYour mom\u2019s right,\u201d I say. \u201cMolly sleeps in her doghouse. I built it myself. You know, come to think of it, I could build you a little playhouse or a dollhouse, too. If you like. I could do that for you. It will be fun. We could work on it together if you want.\u201d She\u2019s little but she could hold the tools at least and paint it. What kid wouldn\u2019t like that?<\/p>\n<p>Marnie passes the rest of her hot dog to Lily now that the girl\u2019s is on the floor.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMy grandmother\u2019s going to be real mad about the dog,\u201d Lily says as she reaches for the hot dog.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, no,\u201d I say. \u201cShe won\u2019t be mad. You\u2019ll see.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo you can\u2019t even pet a dog, right?\u201d Marnie says.<\/p>\n<p>And the girl yells, \u201cNo!\u201d from the back seat, loud enough to break my eardrums. Good thing I have steady hands when I drive.<\/p>\n<p>When we get to the house, I don\u2019t see Molly on the front porch or in her doghouse. I figure she must be near the stream, looking for rabbits.<\/p>\n<p>We all get out of the car. Marnie and I laugh and joke to cheer the child up because she\u2019s been real quiet for the rest of the ride. I hear the rustling of leaves. Then Molly comes out of nowhere, headed in our direction. I look at the girl who looks excited at first\u2014good excited, because what kid, after all, can resist a dog. I say, \u201cStay, Molly!\u201d and I try to get between Molly and the child. But somehow, I\u2019m not moving fast enough, and Molly gets to the girl before me and, boom, knocks her down to the ground. Molly rifles through the girl\u2019s clothes until she comes up, triumphantly, with a piece of hot dog.<\/p>\n<p>The child doesn\u2019t say anything until she sees her own blood, and then it\u2019s hysteria. I try to pull Molly off, but she thinks I\u2019m wrestling with her, and she jumps sideways with a crazy grin on her face. I pick up the girl and run to the house while she screams, \u201cDon\u2019t touch me! I don\u2019t want you to touch me! I want Grandma. You get your hands off me!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Marnie\u2019s done for. I\u2019m the one who cleans up Lily. The whole while, Marnie is literally wringing her hands and saying, \u201cMother\u2019s going to be so mad. She\u2019ll make me take her home.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHoney,\u201d I say. \u201cYou\u2019re a grown woman. You know, maybe it\u2019s time you stand up to her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>But then we turn our attention to Lily. Even to me, it looks bad. Lily\u2019s not bitten, but she\u2019s got scratches on the palms of both her hands, where she fell. And the worst, a jagged cut down the side of her face. It\u2019s not too wide, but there\u2019s the blood.<\/p>\n<p>We take her to the Emergency where I wonder if I\u2019ll be in jail by the end of the night. I\u2019ve heard about parents who take their kids to the ER and end up dealing with Child Protective Services, and I wonder about whether any organization like that got involved when my uncle\u2019s dog mauled me. A woman hands me some paperwork and says, \u201cWhat\u2019s your daughter\u2019s name?\u201d This is no time to explain that I\u2019m not the father, so I say, \u201cLily Jefferson.\u201d This is the first time I\u2019ve said her name. I think back over what happened and realize that her face must have scraped against that tiny piece of metal I\u2019ve been meaning to sand on the car door, and I damn myself for that. I think of all the things I did instead of sanding that door.<\/p>\n<p>Because Lily is crying and thrashing around the doctor can\u2019t work so they have to give her a shot to calm her down. Right before the doctor stitches the cut, the child glances at me and says, \u201cI\u2019m not going to look like him, am I?\u201d The doctor gives me a sympathetic look, then tells her, \u201cI\u2019m going to make teeny, tiny stitches. The size of butterfly feet. It will heal just fine.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat dog tried to eat me,\u201d she tells the doctor. \u201cI\u2019m allergic to dogs.\u201d After the doctor\u2019s done, she takes Marnie and me out to the hallway. I can\u2019t help myself. I tell her everything about working on the car, how I didn\u2019t sand it when I should have, how Molly accidentally knocked Lily over.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s how she scraped her face,\u201d I say, ready to accept my punishment. To my surprise, the doctor touches my shoulder and tells me, \u201cParents are always hardest on themselves when an accident happens.\u201d Suddenly my heart is too big for my chest.<\/p>\n<p>She says, \u201cBut you know your child\u2019s allergic to dogs, and you still have a dog?\u201d She shakes her head like she\u2019s seen it all. There\u2019s no use explaining. It would only make matters worse.<\/p>\n<p>I say, \u201cI\u2019ll take care of it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I think she\u2019s going to be nice again but she says, \u201cSee that you do,\u201d just like the grandmother did.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe have to do something about Molly,\u201d Marnie says, and I agree. But what?<\/p>\n<p>I carry Lily into the house. She\u2019s dazed from the medicine, half asleep on her way to whole. It\u2019s scary to see those tiny, perfect stitches running down the side of her once-perfect face. I can\u2019t stand to look. Marnie sits on the living room rocker, and I put Lily in her arms. I take one more look at those stitches and, as if it\u2019s a prayer, I keep going over the doctor\u2019s words that it probably won\u2019t scar. I go out to the front porch. When we came home from the hospital, Molly wouldn\u2019t come to me. She sits a few feet away from the house, as if she knows she\u2019s done something bad. I throw a couple of pebbles from the front steps to keep her away. She moves quickly from side to side, happy with whatever game I\u2019m willing to play.<\/p>\n<p>When I go back to the living room, I see that Marnie has opened the front of her blouse. She\u2019s holding one of her creamy white breasts to her sleeping daughter\u2019s still mouth. She brushes it across her daughter\u2019s lips as if coaxing her to eat. I think, the child\u2019s too old for that. I feel like I\u2019m in a dream. Marnie looks up at me; her face is wet with tears. I know I\u2019m interrupting. I wish I\u2019d never seen this.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe\u2019s such a delicate little thing,\u201d Marnie says. \u201cIf only I had nursed her when I wanted . . . but no, Mother took her out of my arms when I tried. &#8216;You don\u2019t know what you\u2019re doing,\u2019 she said. \u2018You\u2019ll drop her.\u2019 It made me feel so bad. She was always saying things like that. She wouldn\u2019t even let me hold her. I could have taken care of her myself. I should have tried harder.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I feel the bottom drop out of my life, like a road disappearing.<\/p>\n<p>I don\u2019t remember crossing the room. All of a sudden, I\u2019m with her and her sleeping child. Holding them both while Marnie cries, clutching the top of her blouse around her throat. We are all together in my house, now. My fianc\u00e9e, her daughter. I\u2019ve made the decision to do this, and I\u2019m surprised how much it matters to me and not just for Marnie\u2019s sake.<\/p>\n<p>I spend hours calling my friends, every person I know. The shelter is closed until Monday. Nobody will take this dog.<\/p>\n<p>If you\u2019re going to do a thing, you need to do it right. So that\u2019s what I try to do.<\/p>\n<p>When I go out to the yard to look for Molly, she jumps for joy to see me, then sits down, tail thumping, whimpering. Of all the living things in my life, she is always the happiest to see me. I walk to her doghouse and kneel down. She follows me, nuzzling her snout under my arm, trying to force me to pet her. I put my arms around her neck, sink my fingers into her long fur, and then remove her tags and her collar.<\/p>\n<p>I walk to the car and get in, and she leaps in beside me.<\/p>\n<p>I drive until we hit the exit for a northern highway, a stretch of road I\u2019ve barely driven on. I keep thinking, she can\u2019t come back, she can\u2019t come back. While it\u2019s still daylight, I pull over to the side of the highway and let her out. I sit with her awhile and watch the traffic. It\u2019s not too busy now, but someone is bound to pick her up.<\/p>\n<p>I say, \u201cStay, Molly! Stay!\u201d No hot dog or other meat in sight, she obeys me. She sits down and licks my hand. I start to walk away and hear her whimper. I turn around and yell, \u201cStay!\u201d as she starts to stand up. She sits down again and looks straight ahead.<\/p>\n<p>I drive to the next exit and turn around, staying in the far left lane so she won\u2019t see me and run across the highway. She looks like a soldier at her post. I pass once, twice, and still she doesn\u2019t see me. I try to gauge the reactions of the other drivers. I see cars with children in them, watch the children point at the dog sitting at the side of the road and then turn their heads to talk to their parents. Occasionally, a car slows down and Molly looks at it, expectant. Almost an hour passes. I want to wait somewhere, unseen, until a driver pulls over, opens the door, and lets her in. But I can\u2019t. I need to get home to my new family.<\/p>\n<p>When I arrive, I call out to Marnie, but she doesn\u2019t answer. That\u2019s good. She must have taken Lily to explore outdoors, the field, the flowers, the little stream that runs the length of my property. Lily will like that, I think, lots of places for a kid to run and explore. It will take her mind off what happened. I can\u2019t wait to see her excitement when she tells me. Then I see the note in the middle of the kitchen table:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>I called Mother and she\u2019s coming for Lily and me in a cab. She was right. Again. I should have never told you I\u2019d marry you. I wasn\u2019t thinking straight. It\u2019s not fair to make Lily live with a man who isn\u2019t even her father. A man who doesn\u2019t even know how to take proper care of a child. Plus, Mother reminded me of what the therapist said. I need to start accepting responsibility for the decisions I make when I\u2019m not myself. Please don\u2019t call me. It will only make it harder for me to get well if you keep bothering me. Mother says I have to continue to work on myself and learn how to take care of Lily better because she\u2019s my daughter and my responsibility. I\u2019m really sorry. You\u2019re a nice guy. You\u2019ll meet someone else. It\u2019s just that you and I are not meant to be together.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>A desperate feeling starts in the pit of my stomach and fans out through the rest of me. I feel like something has been stolen from me, but I have only myself to blame. As quick as I can, I jump into my car and head back out to the highway, hoping against hope that Molly will still be there and that she hasn\u2019t run out into traffic. What was I thinking? I pull over to the side of the highway, right where I left her, because I can\u2019t see to drive anymore. As I sit here, with the traffic zooming past me, I imagine that if Molly were here, she would lick away my tears. I\u2019ll come back tomorrow and Sunday, and if I don\u2019t find her I\u2019ll call all the shelters when they open on Monday to see if anyone has taken her to one of them. I\u2019ll explain that she ran away, ran away. That I loved her so much but couldn\u2019t stop her, no matter how hard I tried.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\u201cHis heart is as pure as gold. And really, shouldn\u2019t that be the only thing that matters?\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":15661,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15629","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","writer-cathy-mellett"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15629","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=15629"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15629\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15664,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15629\/revisions\/15664"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/15661"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15629"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=15629"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=15629"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}