That Spark

THERE

I awake with a jolt and grip the thing right in front of me. My head is being hammered and pretty much my entire face is numb, but I'm pretty sure I'm drooling. And pretty is not the word of the day--night. Well, technically day because the digital clock on the dash reads 4 am. I grimace at myself in the reflection; tousled hair, red eyes, drool, God-that-beard; the whole nine, and then I look up to see another reflection.

"You're alive. Good." I take in the bus driver first, and then let my brain dripping with alcohol establish that I am, in fact in a bus, at 4 am!

"Now get off. This is the last stop." He spits and walks five seats down to his own and the doors open with a hiss. I grip the cold metal pole harder, and stagger to my feet. Immediately, my stomach turns upside down.

"Ah, hell no. Do that kinda shit in the street, man."

The bus driver barks at me, in his thick Brooklyn accent.

"What street are we talking about again?" I ask, successfully keeping the liters in.

"Ninth and Hayden." I smirk.

Aren't I lucky? I'm just 5 blocks away from home. But now that I'm talking about luck, I'm just thinking of staying out until sunrise. I literally cannot imagine what Ellie has in store for me. Because my head hurts bad standing up. Maybe, just maybe she'll be asleep when I get there and I can sneak in--

"Hey, you getting off or not?"

"Yeah, yeah." I grumble and stagger out the bus, uniting with the cold and hard pavement in that attempt. I don't know why I drink so much. Maybe that's the only way I can drown out all the crap.

"Hey, man. You alright?"

I put a thumbs up to him as I get to my feet, afraid of opening my mouth. I feel very sick. The cold and abandoned street is not helping.

"Just go home, man. Don't give your wife too much trouble, okay?"

Excuse me? That's exactly the other way around!

But I let him off easy. One, because I had noticed the ring on his finger just like he had and I don't want to 'give him too much trouble' at 4 am and two, I'm too sloppy to even speak.

Hey, that should help at home! I don't have to answer to any of Ellie's endless questions. You'd think I'm overdoing it, but I promise you, I'm not.

The doors close with a hiss again and the bus drives away behind me out onto the main. I don't even recall taking a bus. Maybe it was Terry who got me on. He was much better at handling binge drinking's after effects than me. Ellie says she likes him too.

An unplanned grumble escapes my lips and I am not surprised. Ellie is every kind of nightmare you have never heard of. Not one day ceases until I have thought about the night I had made the decision to be the hero. But somehow, my mind doesn't seem to regret it entirely. Maybe because sometimes, I like it. I like being taken care of. Sometimes, though. There. Word of the day.

I can see a dim glow through the curtains, but I still have my fingers crossed. Maybe she forgot to get the lights?

"Michael?"

And I flinch at my own name. Footsteps follow the summon as I take my jacket off behind the closed door, and when I turn around, Ellie is standing there in her pink robe, with her eyes just surpassing mine in redness. She's been crying. This doesn't surprise me either. Today wasn't the first time I was out this late. And I think I deserved a night out after working hard all week. Why can't she ever see that?

"I was so scared." She whispers, reflecting the thought in her eyes. "Why wouldn't you pick up?"

"My phone died." I say, and then walk in.

"You know I don't want to be a noose, Michael." She follows me straight into the bathroom, quoting me.

"But when you're out till four in the morning without answering my calls, it worries me."

"I know." I say, discharging some of the beer. I've asked Ellie, and she has never thought that it was weird watching her husband pee.

"You're the only one I have."

Her voice cracks and soon, her delicate arms wrap around my front.

"Ellie, I'm taking a leak."

"I love you so much." She sobs into my back. Another unplanned sigh leaves me.

"I know, baby." I grip her arm.

"I just don't wanna lose you."

"I'm right here, El."

I lose the last syllable into the sound of the splash, and I realize that I'm still peeing. God, this is awkward. And that's what she never understands. A man needs his space. She never lets me off to myself when I'm home. It's suffocating. But she never changes. And I know I've brought this onto myself.

But a man's gotta hope too. Though it's against all odds. I've tried reasonable talking, the emotional backhand, the tacks of brass showdown, but nothing seems to work. Yet another sigh leaves my caged soul, as I try to offer solace to the noose that's holding me in place.

It'd be good to get out sometime.

It'd be good to feel free.