For notes and disclaimer, see Installment 1.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Shadow On the Snow
Installment 2
by Kathleen Lombardo
 

Chapter 4:

"Not with a club the heart is broken, nor with a stone.
A whip so small you could not see It
I’ve known to lash the magic creature’ til it fell …"
- Emily Dickinson

Gary walked down the street with a spring in his step and whistling a tune.  His arms held a bag of groceries and a bouquet of red roses - a gift for his wife for their anniversary.  As he inserted his key into the lock, he felt a sudden pain in his abdomen and a wave of dizziness.  Steadying himself by leaning against the door jam, he was struck by an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.  A couple of seconds later he recovered and turned the key in the lock and entered his home.  "It must have been something I had for lunch that did not agree with me," thought Gary.

"Marcia?  I’m home," said Gary as he walked through the house to the kitchen, placing the groceries on the counter.  He carried the bouquet with him as he went in search of his wife.

She sat working at the desk in the study, papers spread out before her.  Gary walked up behind her and bent to kiss Marcia on her cheek as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Hi, Happy Anniversary," he whispered into her ear and handed the flowers to her.   She turned her head slightly to receive the kiss but continued working.

"Thanks, Gary.  Happy Anniversary.  Would you mind putting them in water, Hon?  I'm really busy right now."

"Sure," he said as he picked up the flowers.

"I’ve bought some steaks to throw on the grill.  I thought we would have a nice quiet dinner to celebrate our anniversary.  I’ll even cook."

"Oh, Gary, I really have to finish this brief tonight.  I need it for tomorrow."

"That’s okay.  You keep working while I cook.  You have to eat sometime.  Take a break when dinner is ready."  As he said this, an orange tabby cat ran into the office and jumped upon the desk.

"Aahhh!  Where did that cat come from?" Marcia exclaimed upon seeing the cat.

"I … I don’t know.  It must have snuck in when I came home.  I wonder where it came from," said Gary as he walked over and stroked the cat on the head.  The cat purred softly and rubbed against Gary’s hand.

"Well, get rid of it.  You know I can’t stand cats.  Their hair gets on everything!  And get it off the desk!" she snapped while trying to shoo it away.

"Come on, cat.  You’ve got to leave," Gary said to the cat as he picked it up.  The cat looked at him as if wanting to communicate.  Gary scratched it behind the ears while carrying the cat to the door.

"Go on now, go home," he said as he placed the cat on the front stairs and nudged it from behind to get it to leave.  As he closed the door, Gary scratched the back of his head, wondering where the cat had come from.

He went into the kitchen to get supper started.  Not normally the cook in the house, Gary did, however, enjoy grilling steaks.  He opened the slider to the deck and started the grill.  Something about a fire seems to call to the primitive in a man, and Gary was no exception.  After a short time, salad and vegetables were prepared and the steaks were on the grill.  The smell of the sizzling steak got his stomach juices flowing and his mouth watering for the taste of that first bite.  He sipped on a beer as he turned the steaks over.

As he set the table and lit candles, he switched on the CD player and inserted his Andrea Bocelli CD, "Romanza."  Nice, he thought to himself, just the right mood music.  The bouquet of flowers, now in a vase, decorated the center of the table.

It took some cajoling before Marcia finally took a break from her work to eat dinner, though she was somewhat distracted and did not talk much.  The steaks were done to perfection, and having finished their meal, Gary and Marcia sat sipping wine.  When the song "Le Tue Parole" started to play, Gary reached over and took Marcia by the hand.

"Dance with me," he said as he urged Marcia to her feet.  The sensuous voice of Andrea Bocelli sang as Gary hummed along into Marcia’s ear.  They swayed slowly to the romantic Italian ballad.  Their bodies moved together as one to the rhythm of the music.  Gary thought how much he had missed this intimacy of movement and then was struck that that was such an odd thing to think.  After all, they were married and went dancing occasionally.  Marcia loved to dance.  He wrapped his arms tighter about Marcia and hugged her close.

"Why don’t we go upstairs and work on bringing little Zeke into this world," Gary murmured as he kissed Marcia on the neck, then along her chin, working his way to her lips.  He gave her a deep, lingering kiss.

"Who’s Zeke?" asked Marcia as she pulled away.

"Our first child … at least that’s the name I would want for our first child.  We shouldn’t wait much longer to start on a family."  He started kissing her again.

Marcia pulled out of his embrace and sat down at the table.  She picked up her wine glass and took a sip.

"Gary, I don’t think the time is right to start a family.  I’m just getting established in the firm and my career is taking off.  I don’t have the time to take care of children."  She kept her head down, not looking up as Gary walked to the table and sat across from her.

"When do you plan on having children?  You’re already 29 years old.  I thought we had talked about this before and said that after we both got established and bought a house we would have children."  Gary looked at Marcia, trying to read her expression.

"I just don’t think I’m suited to be a mother.  I’m not the motherly type.  My schedule is so hectic and unpredictable.  It would be hard to be a lawyer and a mother."  She lifted her eyes to meet his and continued.

"Besides, when would I have time to spend with you?  We have so little time together as it is now."  She ran her finger along his arm and put her hand on his.

Gary got up and walked to the CD player and turned off the music.  He was not in the mood for it any longer.  The sudden silence was deafening.

"When were you planning on sharing this little bit of information with me?  I thought that was what marriage was all about, you see … sharing, raising children, being a family, you know, the American dream."

"The American dream!  Oh, Gary, you always end up sounding like a boy scout!  Grow up!  The world has changed.  Marriage is different now.  Just because it is different doesn’t mean that it is bad.  We have a good life.  I thought we’ve been happy together these past four years.  Haven’t you?"

"I thought so.  Now I don’t know."  Gary’s expression became dark.  He could never keep his emotions hidden.  His eyes were too expressive to hide anything.  He looked like a boy who had just lost his best friend, yet there was a hint of anger behind the lowered lids.  He turned and walked out of the room.

"I’m going out for awhile," he said without looking back at Marcia.

She sat there running her finger along the top of her glass before draining the last of the wine in one swallow.

Later that night in bed, Gary snuggled with Marcia and apologized for arguing with her.  He wanted to make love, but she complained that she had a headache from the wine and was very tired from working.  He reminded her that it was their anniversary; however, she rolled away from him and soon fell asleep.
 

Chapter Five:

"Who sees inside from outside?
Who finds hundreds of mysteries even where minds are deranged?
See through his eyes what he sees.
Who then is looking out from his eyes?
- Rumi

The next day started out cloudy with a damp chill that penetrated to the bone.  Gary walked briskly from the EL to his office, pulling the collar of his trench coat up to protect his ears.  Movement caught his eye and Gary noticed a youth on in-line skates pushing his way through the crowd across the street from him.  There was an elderly man in the youth's path, and Gary could see that the youth would end up running into the elderly man.  Just as he had anticipated, the boy bumped into the man, causing him to fall toward the street.  At the same time, Gary noticed a taxicab moving toward the elderly man as he fell.  The taxi driver was yelling out of his window at another driver who had just cut him off and did not notice the elderly man.

Frantically, Gary raced across the street in an attempt to pull the elderly man from the path of the taxicab.  Too late.  In horror, Gary watched the elderly man get struck and thrown by the swerving taxicab.  When Gary finally reached him, he found the old man staring up at him with vacant, lifeless eyes, killed instantly when his head hit the pavement.

"No … this shouldn’t have happened," mumbled Gary.

He looked about him as if the whole accident was a dream that he would wake from.  A small crowd had already gathered about the man lying on the ground.

"I should have gotten here earlier."

"Hey, man, I saw the whole thing.  No way you could have prevented what happened," replied a bystander.

"When your number is up, it’s up."  The cavalier attitude of the man further upset Gary.

"But you don’t understand … "

Gary stopped talking as he realized that he himself did not understand why he said what he did.  He rubbed his face in confusion and turned at the sound of approaching sirens.  As he did, he noticed an orange tabby cat, sitting on the curbing a few feet away, looking at him.  It appeared to be the same cat that had gotten into his house the day before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still shaken by the accident, Gary was not his usual friendly self when he entered his office and approached the reception desk.

"Hi, Gary."

"Good morning," Gary answered in a sullen voice as he looked at Marissa, wondering how she knew it was he.

"What’s wrong, Gary, has something happened?"

"Yes.  I just saw an old man killed.  A kid on skates accidentally pushed him into the path of a cab.  He was killed instantly.  I tried to save him, but … "

"Oh, Gary, that’s awful!  That poor man."

"Hobson, you’re late - again!  I don’t pay you to talk to the receptionist."  Pritchard looked at Gary with an arrogant stare.

"Mr. Pritchard, Gary just … "  Before she could finish, Pritchard interrupted her.

"Gary was just going to his desk and getting to work.  Something you should be doing also, I might add."  He turned on his heel and walked down the corridor.

"I’ll talk to you later, Marissa," said Gary as he picked up his mail and walked to his desk.

"Hey, Gary, I see Mr. Sunshine has greeted you this morning.  Pritchard is on the warpath again.  Why are you late?  Did you sleep in after your wild night of celebrating your anniversary?"

"No, I should have been so lucky. "  Gary loosened his tie a little as he took a seat in front of his computer.

"So why were you so late, not that I see anything wrong with that?"

"I’m late because I saw a man die this morning, and all I could do was watch it happen."

Gary leaned forward on his desk and rubbed his face with his hands.  He could not get the image of the dead man looking up at him out of his mind.

"Gee, that’s too bad.  Don’t tear yourself up about it though.  What could you have done anyway?"

Chuck was leaning on the top of the cubicle and abruptly turned and sat at his desk as he noticed Pritchard walking toward them.

"Good morning, Mr. Pritchard.  And how are you this fine, dreary morning?" asked Chuck in a cheery voice as Pritchard looked from Chuck to Gary.

"I would be much better if I saw you doing what you are being paid to do.  This is not a social club.  And Hobson, I want to see you working not daydreaming."

Gary ignored Pritchard as he turned his back to him and switched on his computer.  Pritchard treated his professional employees as if they were errant school children.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When leaving the office at the end of the day, Gary walked out with Marissa.  His mood had not improved much from the morning, but he attempted conversation with her.

"So, Marissa, where’s Spike?  He’s not with you today?"

"Who is Spike?"

"Your dog. "

"Gary, I don’t have a dog.  I need $15,000 to get one, but I don’t have that kind of money saved yet."

Gary looked at her bewildered.

"I could have sworn you had a dog."  He scratched the back of his head.  They walked in silence for a couple of minutes.

"You’re still thinking about that accident this morning, aren’t you?" asked Marissa.

"Yes, yes I am.  I don’t know why, but I keep feeling like I should have stopped it from happening.  If only I had been a little closer, I could have grabbed him out of the way."

"Maybe it was just his time to die.  You never know what your fate will be each day you get up.  We all will go one way or another."

He looked at her, surprised by her pragmatism.  Suddenly, he felt an intense pain in his abdomen and started to shiver, feeling weak and dizzy.  He let out a low moan.

"Gary?  Are you okay?  What’s the matter?" asked a concerned Marissa.

He reached out and steadied himself by grabbing a light pole and took a few deep breaths.

"I’m … I’m okay, Marissa.  I think I may be coming down with a stomach virus or something.  Or maybe Pritchard has succeeded in giving me an ulcer."

"Are you sure you’re all right?  You don’t sound like you are."

"I’m feeling better already," he said as he took her arm, and they continued walking.  I’ll see you at work tomorrow."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night Gary took Marcia out to an elegant restaurant for supper where they enjoyed a leisurely supper.  Although more comfortable in a sweater and jeans than in his tie and suit, Gary made the best of it for Marcia’s sake.  However, Marcia was in her element and was stunning in an off the shoulder periwinkle blue dress.  Seeing her in candlelight, Gary thought there was no one as lovely as his wife.  She seemed radiant.

The weather had gotten milder, so they decided to walk home.  Just ahead of them they noticed a street person stumble on some broken pavement while pushing a shopping cart filled with all his worldly possessions.  Gary ran over to help the man.

"Hey, careful now.  Are you okay?" asked Gary as he steadied the man on his feet.

"Yeah, thanks, mister."

Gary, sensing the man could use a good meal, took a few dollars from his pocket.

"Here, take this.  Why don’t you go get yourself something to eat?"

"Gee, thanks again.  You're a good person," said the man as he looked at the money in his hand and back to Gary before walking away.

"Gary, how could you even touch that man?  He is so dirty!  You always have to be such a boy scout all the time."  Marcia wore a look of disdain as she watched the street person walking slowly toward a coffee shop.

"What is wrong with being a boy scout?  You make it sound like a crime!  It seems to me the world needs a few more of the values they teach."

Marcia laughed.

"He could be doing something different with his life.  This is the life he has chosen.  He doesn’t have to live on the streets.  He chooses to be homeless and dirty and gets what he deserves."

Gary was shocked into silence.  He did not know that Marcia felt that way.  He had always thought of her as being a sensitive person who cared about others.
 

Chapter Six:

"Without Contraries is no progression.
Attraction and Repulsion.  Reason and Energy.
Love and Hate are necessary to Human existence."
- William Blake
 

When they arrived at their house, Gary told Marcia that he wanted to walk some more and that he would be home shortly.  She went in, and Gary continued walking the streets while in deep thought.

Why hadn’t he seen this side of Marcia before?  He realized that he had been so caught up in his own world of just trying to make it through the day, doing what he didn’t want to do, and had not taken the time to confront himself about his own unrecognized unhappiness.  For the first time, he became aware that through all the years of his marriage he had been feeling out of place in his own life, both as a married man and in his career as a stockbroker.  Why hadn’t he ever realized that before?

What had he wanted to do when he was young?  What did he say he was going to be when he grew up?  After all these years, he couldn’t remember.  He had always enjoyed doing things that helped others and had at one time considered being an EMT on the local fire department in Hickory, Indiana.  However, once he got into college and met Marcia, she had talked him into pursuing a career as a stockbroker.  It seemed so logical and important when she talked to him about it.  Besides, his job helped put her through law school.

Gary found himself on the Michigan Avenue Bridge, overlooking the Chicago River.  He looked across at the Chicago Sun-Times Building.  Gary wondered if he would have liked being a news reporter, writing the headlines in the paper.  No, he was not cut out to be a writer.  Thinking about his life, he began to recognize all the things he did not really like about it.

"Who am I?" he asked himself.  "Who is the real me?"

As he looked at the Sun-Times Building, he felt a cat rub against his leg and then meow at Gary.

"You again.  Boy, you really do get around, don’t you?" he said as he bent down to pet it.  He picked up the cat and placed it on the railing.  Animals can be so pure in their affections, not like humans.  Gary turned and walked away, leaving the cat staring after him.  His thoughts made him uncomfortable, and he wanted to block them from his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night Gary thrashed about in his sleep.

"Gary!  Gary!  Are you alright?"  A confused Gary slowly came to awareness and realized that he was in bed with Marcia.  He looked around the room.

"What’s wrong, Gary?"

"I … I had a dream I was having a heart attack … blood all over me …"  Gary, breathing heavily, rubbed his face with his right hand then checked his chest to see if there was blood on it.  Slowly he sat up and swung his legs off the bed and sat there with his face in his hands, trying to clear his mind.  He found that he was shivering.

"I’m okay now.  It was just a bad dream."

"You’ve got to stop eating just before you to go bed," said Marcia as she turned on her side to resume her sleep.

Gary glanced at her and rubbed his face again as he got up to go to the bathroom.  He didn’t tell her about his other experiences of pain he had lately.  To be on the safe side, he took a couple of aspirin.  They are supposed to help if you are having a heart attack.

Instead of going back to bed, he went to the living room and glanced out the window.  As he looked at the street below, he was surprised to see the now familiar tabby cat sitting below his window, looking up at him.

"What is happening to me?" Gary muttered to himself.  The dream was so real, so frightening.  He felt like he was dying.  His heart still pounded in his chest; he could feel his pulse throbbing in his temples.  "What is going on?"  He ran his hand across his chest.

Ever since his anniversary his world seemed to be topsy-turvy, a roller coaster ride.  He had heightened sensitivity to everything, especially to Marcia, noticing things he had never noticed before.  There was also the niggling feeling that he should be doing something else, but he didn’t know what it was - just a general feeling of discontent and uneasiness.

He glanced at the clock:  3:38 am.  Sleep - that’s what he needed.  He would be going to work in just a very few hours.  It was not wise to have a stockbroker falling asleep at his computer when split-second decisions and reasoning abilities were required in his fast-paced career.  He needed a clear head when dealing with other people’s money.  With that thought he went back to bed.
 

Chapter Seven:

"The night full of talking that hurts, my worst held-back secrets.
Everything has to do with loving and not loving.
This night will pass.  Then we have work to do."
- Rumi
 

The next day, while Gary prepared for work, he got into another argument with Marcia about what they should do that evening.

"Remember to be ready to leave tonight by 7:00. "

"Why?" asked Marcia as she finished applying her mascara.  She glanced at herself in the mirror from various angles, satisfied with her handiwork.

"Don’t you remember?  We’re meeting Chuck and his girlfriend Sandi and going to the basketball game."  Gary had walked out of the bathroom to talk to Marcia in the bedroom while putting on his shirt.

"No, I don’t remember.  Besides, I’m working tonight.  I'm meeting with a client and probably won’t be home until late.  Besides, I hate basketball, and I’m not really fond of Chuck either.  I don’t know how you have remained friends with him all these years."

"I thought you liked basketball.  You never said anything before.  And what's wrong with Chuck?"  Gary pulled at the buttons on his shirt, trying to control his growing anger.

"You know, Gary, you are totally clueless when it comes to knowing what I enjoy and who I prefer to associate with."

As she said this, she gave one last look in the mirror before she grabbed her handbag and briefcase and headed for the door.  She turned and looked at him as she opened the door and let it slam behind her.  Gary stood there dumbfounded as he looked at the closed door.  He felt himself getting angry and drew his hands into tight fists.

As he walked from the EL to his office building, Gary bought a newspaper. He dreaded going to work.  He never liked it before, but now he was aware of how very much he disliked his job and could not bring himself to go into the building.

He glanced at the headlines on the front page and noticed a story about an airplane that exploded shortly after take-off, killing over 100 people.

"Global Flight 29 from Chicago to Miami crashed just after takeoff.  A flock of birds caught in the engine when the plane took off was believed to be the cause of the crash."

There was also another article.

"Amanda Bailey, 6 years, was struck by a car while she was riding her bike. Due to the heavy caseload at the hospital, her condition was not properly diagnosed and treated, resulting in her death."

Gary stared at the paper in horror and his hands trembled, disturbed by the news stories.  He could not bring himself to go to work but instead walked to his favorite park bench down by the lake.  He wanted privacy as tears welled up into his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.  Burying his face in his hands, he was overwhelmed by a feeling of remorse, yet he did not know why.  As he sat there in turmoil, he suddenly became aware of someone sitting on the bench with him.  Embarrassed, he quickly looked down and wiped his eyes and cleared his throat in an attempt to control his emotions.

"I love to come here.  It’s so peaceful," said the man.

Gary nodded his head in response, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to comment.  He looked out across the water and stole a glance at his bench companion.  The man was a priest who had an aura of great age about him although he appeared to be only in his sixties.  There was stillness about his manner that relaxed Gary.

"If you don’t mind my saying this, you look troubled and in need of someone to talk to."

Gary looked at him and gave a slight nod.

"Whenever I feel down or am trying to sort things out, I come here to think," said the priest.  "A friend of mine once told me when I was struggling with depression that ‘This too will pass.’  He was right.  He was the one who suggested I go and sit by water - a lake, stream or ocean.  Water is changeable, yet it gives a feeling of permanence.  It represents stability and a reminder that no matter what happens, it will survive.  The human spirit is like that; it can survive the worst of life’s storms."

The priest became quiet.

Gary turned to him, listening and looking for answers yet unable to voice his questions.  The emotional pain was evident upon Gary’s face.

"I find that God sends us suffering and trials to bring us to the point of truth.  Can you understand what I’m trying to say?"

Gary shook his head no, looking to the priest for explanation.

"God uses the choices we make and the sins we commit to help us find salvation, grace, blessings and, ultimately, the truth.  The suffering that most of us go through in life, if we took the time to really look beyond it, would reveal the truth.  Some of the most difficult choices we make bring us to where we should be."

Gary looked at the priest, debating whether or not to share some of his anguish.  He wasn’t sure how much he would be willing to share yet found himself speaking.  The dam that held back the flood of his pent up distress broke.

"I didn’t realize until today how very much I don’t like my life."  He gave a mirthless laugh before continuing and stared out at the water.  He dug his hands deep into his trench coat and rocked slightly as a dull pain grew in his abdomen.

"Today I realized I’m in a marriage that is a sham, although I love my wife deeply.  I’ve always wanted to be married and have children, you know, but that won’t happen with my wife, Marcia.  A few days ago, I thought I was a very happy man, but now my eyes have been opened.  I see so much I never saw before and can’t understand why.  It is like I am an observer of my own life and not the participant."  He stopped and quickly glanced at the priest for a response, but the priest merely nodded for Gary to continue.

"I hate my job.  I … I couldn’t even bring myself to go to work today and came here instead.  I don’t know what I would rather be doing.  I can’t even remember what I had wanted to be when I was a child.  I have an overwhelming sense that I should be doing something else."  Gary looked at the front page of the newspaper and the story of the airplane crash and shook his head.

Without even saying a word, Gary felt encouraged to speak by the silence of the priest.

"I am feeling unbearable guilt over things like this," pointing to the headline, "that I have no control over.  Why?  What could I have done to prevent any of this?  Why should this bother me so much?  I feel like I want to escape from everything … from my life.  I don’t know what is going on with me.  I don’t know what to do."

"What do you want from life?  What is most important in your heart?  What is it telling you to do?"

Gary’s eyes filled with desperation and seeking, mental anguish etched upon his handsome face.  The priest stood up and looked down at Gary.

"We all make choices in life and don’t know where those choices will lead us to; but we must follow the path that it sets out before us to travel on.  Which path do you wish to follow?"

Gary looked up at the priest with uncertainty on his face, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I don’t know.  I … I don’t know."

The priest gave a slight smile and walked away.  Gary had expected some answers, but instead he found only more questions.  From out of nowhere, the orange tabby cat appeared and jumped up onto the bench next to Gary.  It placed its paw upon Gary’s leg, which Gary felt strangely comforting at that moment.

Gary rubbed his face hard with his left hand as he picked up the newspaper with the other.  His gaze fell upon the headline about the plane crash again.  The pain that he had been feeling in his abdomen intensified suddenly, and he shuddered.  As he stood to leave, Gary collapsed upon the ground unconscious.

End of Installment Two
 

Continue to Installment 3
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Email the author:  ktlombardo@hotmail.com
 

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