1.

The Conversation

By Mary Perkins

Maggie and Ben sit in front of the fireplace listening to the storm as it rages outside their home. Thunder, lightening and rained ruled on this dark night. Inside, the atmosphere is peaceful and very quiet. Maggie rocks back in forth in her chair. She's crocheting some little gift for their seemingly endless list of grandchildren. Ben sits in his chair, smoking his pipe and rattling his newspaper every few minutes. He isn't really reading the paper, but it keeps Maggie from talking too much. After fifty seven years of marriage, he was pretty sure he had heard all she had to say. At least all he was interested in hearing her say, he thinks to himself. Maggie was so talkative in fact, that a few years after their wedding, he'd nicknamed her Magpie. He wasn't being complimentary when he said it, but she had taken it as a term of endearment and he'd never told her different. He loved her very much, but sometimes he wished he could staple her tongue to her bottom lip.

Over the years they had come to an understanding. She could talk all she wanted over the evening meal, but when he picked up the newspaper, he didn't want to be disturbed. During dinner tonight, she'd "caught him up" on some of the goings on in their neighborhood. He'd done his best to act interested and respond accordingly, but he honestly didn't remember half of what she'd said. When she'd presented him with dessert, he'd felt compelled to say something about how good the meal was. She had excelled herself with a delicious roast and all the trimmings, and the dessert was his favorite.

"Delicious, Magpie!" he'd said with a grin. He was feeling guilty for basically ignoring her throughout the meal. Maggie had just smiled and handed him his cup of coffee.

Suddenly, a clap of thunder rattled the windows of the house. Maggie jumped and Ben cursed under his breath as the lights went out. They were in complete darkness, except for the warm glow from the fireplace. After a few seconds of silence, Ben spoke "Humph, well lights are out."

He could practically hear her smile as Maggie said, "Yes, dear." "Well, don't ya think ya should get up and get the candles or lamps or sumpin?" He replied grouchily.

He could barely see his wife in the darkness of the room. The occasional lightening flashes in the window behind her reflected her outline. He could see that she had stopped her rocking and knitting. Maggie made no reply. Since Ben had grown comfortable with their quiet evenings, he just leaned forward and poked at the fire pensively, trying to build up the flames.

After a few moments, the fire flared up and Ben sat back, enjoying the silence. His mind began to wander and he relaxed and, not really aware of it, he dozed off.

Presently though, he roused himself and opened his eyes. "Mags?" he whispered, realizing that he has been asleep and that some time has passed. He has no idea what the actual time is, only that it is late, the fire has burned down to coals and the storm has passed.

The electricity however, was still out. Maggie's rocker is still. The silence fills the room. With shaking hands, Ben frantically pokes at the fire and throws a log on to the coals. Any kind of light is welcome to him now. His heart beats faster and he tries to catch his breath. Maggie is so everlastingly still! He decides that he will get up and look for the candles or lamps, whatever it is that Maggie keeps for such nights.

"Ben?" Maggie whispers, "let's sit here a bit longer. It's so quiet, we can talk." Ben shakes so hard at the sound of her voice that he nearly moans aloud, for though he can see his wife's dark outline across from him, it seems as if she's standing behind him and speaking softly into his ear.

"Sure, Magpie. What do ya want to talk about?" Ben tries to control the tremble in his voice.

"You know I love ya, dontcha?" she says, her voice seeming to come from across the small room, yet from behind him at the same time. "Well, o' course!" Ben responds, "and ya know I love you too!"

Surprise is evident in his voice. They haven't spoken of love in many years.

"I just want ya to know, Bennie," Maggie sighs, (and her voice is so close!) "I just want ya to know that I love you no matter what."

The log that Ben has just recently placed on the fire lets out a pop and he jumps, goosebumps breaking over his skin. He grabs the firepoke in shaking hands and jabs at it, adding another log quickly. If only it would give out more light!

"S-sure Magpie. o'course!"

He has no idea what has brought this conversation on, but Ben knows that he wants it to end quickly and that he will agree with whatever his wife says if she will just be quiet....

"Bennie..." Maggie whispers, "I know about that woman from your office." Ben's heart ratchets up another notch, but before he can even think of a reply, Maggie says, "Oh, honey, I know it's been over for years. I just want you to know that I knew all along and that it don't matter no more. I've loved ya since I first saw ya. I knew you was just playin' around with her. I always knowed you love me."

Ben's heart is pounding so hard that he can't breathe. He leans forward and puts his head between his knees, thinking 'I'm going to faint! What the hell?!"

Maggies voice, still so close and so almost far away continues to whisper, "Listen to me, Ben! Listen! Sit up, now!"

Ben moans out loud, and pulls himself back into a sitting position. "What is it, Mags? Why.."

The log in the fireplace pops again and weak yellow light flares up. Ben looks across at his wife and sees that her head is cocked to the side as if she's thinking. Before he can say anything else, she speaks again.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 12.11.2013

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