No Strings

CHAPTER 17--BOY CONFESSES

I could see the colors of the leaves pepper the lawn. I knew that the occasional rain fall would make the leaves rot and decay. This would lead to dead spots in the lawn come summer time. William was gone again. He was on another project that he didn't want to deal with. This left me to do all of the raking. The smell of rotting leaves was refreshing. The crisp autumn air was catching my nose and my hands were feeling stiff from the cold.

The rake grated against the ground. The maple leaves, and birch leaves made a pretty combination. I had stopped a long time ago jumping in the leaves. The leaves had dirt and dirt was the enemy of every mother alive, or so my mom explained after I turned thirteen. I was too old to jump in the leaves.

The dried leaves still beckoned me. There was no one watching. The pile was mounting up. I looked at it and then fell back into the pile and stared up at the sky. My breath was beginning to puff into the air.

The decaying leaves suffused my nose. There was something appealing in that moment. I got up on my hands and knees. I pulled out the few errant leaves and then gather the pile into black trash bags. I carried these to the composter and dumped them into the top. William wanted them for mulch.

I was sad to see them go, but perhaps they would contribute to the spring flowers.

***

The damned jar. I was staring at it. My wrist was hurting. I tried running it under water, and then I tried to bang the edge of it, but it wouldn't let go of its seal. I didn't care about the contents of the jar anymore. I wanted the thing to open. It was a will of spirits. I stared at it for a few minutes and circled. Women were strong too. They had endurance. This is what I said to lull myself.

I'd built several bookcases meant to be done by two people all by myself. I'd cleaned sink traps with the ease, and I couldn't open a simple jar? I stared at it as if I would develop the powers of the Force like Darth Vader. Or better yet--laser eyes to melt the metal top.

Maybe ten years typing at a computer were mounting up on me. I didn't know. I shook my hands and grunted and tried to twist the top. The lid stuck. My wrists and arm hurt. My hand was red.

I paced back and forth and then looked for a towel. The towel slipped. I looked for a rubber glove, but it wouldn't budge.

I was hungry, but I did not want to be defeated. I banged the jar on the edge of the counter again. I heard a chuckle from the doorway.

I turned. William was in the doorway. I jumped.

"You got back from your trip?" I asked.

He nodded. "I got them to reconstruct the ceiling and we figured out the electrical problem too. The lighting should look better."

I tried to twist the top of the jar.

"You're eating pepperoncini?"

I nodded. "With gorgonzola salad."

"Do you need help?"

I nodded in pure defeat. He grabbed the jar and with one simple twist the lid popped open. I had to have RSI. He smiled at me.

"What's been up with you?"

I pulled out the peppers onto a plate careful not to drip any juice.

"I've been battling the leaves and composting them."

"Nothing new at work?"

"No," I said. He was borderline breaking one of the rules of our marriage. I wasn't going to tell him about the project I was developing for the winter.