The Tree of Knowledge

Getting High

I have a new routine. Forty-five minute bike ride to the Hospital first thing in the morning. I visit Mara.

Mara has made it to twenty-one weeks and four days with just the one more seizure. That one happened at three am two days ago. The phone call woke us all up. She has a new doctor much more willing to follow orders who her and I do not like and Ryan adores.

In other news, it's a boy. Rebecca has decided to name him Isaac, because for some fucked up self-entitled reason she thinks she can.

I suggest to Rebecca that since the biblical Isaac was willing to be offered as a human sacrifice, perhaps baby Isaac was similarly willing to die so that Mara doesn't have to.

Rebecca did not like this. The next thing I know, Ryan is storming into the kitchen.

"You said you want Isaac to die?!" he shouts.

"I didn't use those words exactly."

BAM! His closed fist connects with the side of my face. I go flying out of the kitchen chair and sprawl on to the tile floor. Ryan kicks me in the gut and punches me again. I taste blood, warm and metallic. Instinctively I curl my body up as tight as I can, trying to shield myself from the continuing blows.

He leaves me there on the floor. Bleeding. Broken. I don't think I can get up. I resolve not to. I pass out there, on the cold tile.

I wake later to a terrible pain as Ryan is lifting me off the floor. There's this horrible wrenching and stabbing in my insides. I think he broke a rib or two. I'm sort of dimly aware that I'm screaming. He carries me up the stairs, deposits me in my bed, and tucks me in.

I don't get out of bed for two days. But I get up on the third day, so I guess there's nothing wrong with that. Or is that rule just for slaves? I can't keep them straight sometimes. Probably because my husband hits me in the head a lot. I don't think the Bible actually has any restrictions on how hard you can beat your wife.

Ryan's been talking about buying a slave, since Mara's not around to do the cleaning anymore.

Since Mara won't be around to do the cleaning anymore.

I visit Mara. I bring her wildflowers I pick off the side of the road. Primrose and bluebells and Indian paint brushes. Sometimes I steal flowers from people's well-kept front gardens. I raid the Hospital flower beds. I bring her Rebecca's fresh baked croissants. She doesn't eat much. When I can manage it, I bring her booze. I pour it in her water cup when the nurses aren't looking. She gulps it down gratefully. And we talk. At least a little. She sleeps a lot.

I suspect she still doesn't really like me, but who else is she going to talk to?

She tells me stories about her life. I try not to think about how much it sounds like a eulogy.

I used to think that Mara had probably always been a housewife. That her skill sets included scrubbing toilets and drinking when no one was looking. Turns out, Mara's kind of a genius. She graduated from MIT top of her class. Mara has a Master's Degree in computer programing. Ryan's position as CEO of that that software company? That was Mara's job. After The Revelation, Ryan made Mara quit and install him as her replacement. Women can't be leaders anymore, anyway.

After visiting Mara (watching Mara die), it's a two hour ride to Stone Works.

And I'm so tired of bouldering.