Down to the Sea

The walls and ceiling were about as much landscape as Jamie had seen since her husband left her to be with the woman. But, Jamie tried not to think about that because when she thought about it, she became nauseous. Jamie was a grown woman and she knew grown women should be able to control themselves and their emotions, even when they are chilly with the emptiness that comes with being alone.

Jamie walked through the living room and tried not to look at the black curtains that covered the windows. In the kitchen, she cut up an apple, but didn't eat it. She sat there for a while, staring at the slices. Then, she left the apple there, uneaten, and wandered back to her room. Her room was painted a light blue color, like the sky. It was actually the guest room, but after Charles left, Jamie couldn't bring herself to sleep in their bed anymore.

The guest room was very simple and quite no-nonsense. When she and Charles first moved in to this little seaside house, only a few weeks after they got married, Charles spent many hours repainting the old cottage, including the guest room. She remembered him on a ladder outside the house, teetering precariously as he tried to paint the faded wood.

"Hey, Jamie."

"You missed a spot, dear." Jamie teased.

Charles waved his paintbrush through the air, smiling. “A true artist does not miss spots - oh, wait, you were right.” He quickly smeared the brush across the empty patch.

Jamie grinned and wiggled the ladder a bit. “Dear, I think you painted more of your new shirt than you did the house!”

Charles looked sheepishly at his shirt. “You know I love you, right?”

Jamie smiled at the memory. Despite the fact that she had no more photos of Charles in the house, she could still picture his face so clearly. She missed his company. Her temple suddenly throbbed violently.

"Charles, can you hear me? Listen. Listen! You can't leave me."

"He's gone, Miss. I'm sorry. He's not coming back."

The fluorescent lights hurt her eyes and people rushed back and forth and she shouted out his

name one last time before he disappeared.

Jamie snapped back to the present. She was lying on the floor of the bedroom, breathing heavily. Her head ached. Did she hit it when she fell? "Jamie," she said to herself, sternly, "You aren't supposed to think about him anymore, or else this will happen. Remember what the therapist said." She sat up and brushed the wrinkles out of her shirt. She took some deep breaths, because her therapist said that was supposed to help. Slowly, Jamie rose to her feet. Her knees creaked. She wasn't as young as she used to be. She tried not to hear the empty echo of Charles's laugh in the throbbing of her skull.

-------

Later, in the kitchen, Jamie found her uneaten apple lying on the counter. She didn't want to look at it. It was browning and it smelled like cider. She cut a slice of bread for herself. She sat at the table and watched the clock - it ticked along towards five thirty. Her head still hurt. Putting down the uneaten slice of bread, she stood up and lifted the clock from the wall.

Jamie stared at the clock, considering. It had elegant vine engravings on the hands. She watched it tick some more. A small little memory surfaced, reluctant.

Charles handed the clock to her, smiling sheepishly.

"Happy birthday, dear."  

Jamie trembled. She smashed the clock on the ground. Her temple spasmed. The ground rushed towards her.

"Charles? Charles, where are you? Charles!"

Jamie squinted into the distance and saw something. As she grew closer, she saw him lying there in the woman's arms. Jamie's eyes blurred. Some high pitched ringing filled her ears as she howled over her husband. The woman growled unapologetically as she lapped at his body.

Jamie awoke, clawing at the air. She was on the floor again, this time in the middle of the clock debris. Her elbows were cut from the broken glass. Jamie heaved herself into the living room and collapsed on a soft leather chair. Breathe, Jamie, she thought, closing her eyes. Breathe in and out. In, and out.

Jamie smelled something familiar. It was the smell of leather, fish, and smoke. She turned her head to the side, and put her nose against the chair. Leather. Fish. Smoke. Her mind wandered. She thought about what Charles smelled like. Her eyes sprang open and she leapt from the chair, clapping a hand to her nose. Blood dripped from her elbows. The scent of Charles overpowered her.  

"Charles, how could you do this to me? How could you leave me, alone? The woman stole you from me and she's never going to give you back. How could you let her do this to you? How could you let her do this to me?"

Charles did not respond. He smelled of the woman; salt and wind.

Jamie took him by the shoulders and shook him. She whimpered his name.

"Miss, I think you should go now."

Jamie felt a hand on her arm. She did not look away from her husband's impassive face.

Jamie awoke slowly this time. Her head buzzed. She ran her hands over her bloody elbows. She stumbled to her feet, leaning heavily against the wall. Her eyes landed on the black curtains that blocked her view of the woman. Jamie took a step forward. She stopped. Her legs wobbled. She thought of the broken clock. Then, clenching her jaw, she crossed the room and ripped the curtain away from the window. There the woman stood, her hair whipping choppily around her shoulders. The woman was beautiful and vast and so undeniably there, as if she had been waiting for Jamie forever.

Jamie's ears rang. Her heart thumped deep in her head. She turned from the window and burst through the back door. She ran barefoot across her tiny unkempt yard full of sighing shoreline grasses, and across the rocky beach. She was screaming senseless words at the woman that she herself couldn't hear. Her ears felt stuffed with wool. But, she knew what she was saying: You took him from me. You took him from me. You stole him from me. You took my Charles. Jamie stumbled and fell to her knees, feeling blood on her bare feet and shins. Her eyes glazed over.  

Jamie heard a ring in her ears again, and gradually, sound returned to her. She realized she was sobbing. The rocks beneath her were grey. Jamie looked up at the woman. The woman cocked her head and stared back. Her eyes were endless blue depths. Jamie could not look away. The woman's deep voice murmured softly, invitingly.

Jamie shakily stood up, and stepped forwards carefully. The woman shifted slowly. Jamie whispered words to her husband.

"Charles, can you hear me?"

"Charles, where are you?"

"Charles, how could you do this to me?

How could you let her do this to me?"

The woman grew still. Jamie stepped up to the woman and felt her cool breath brush her ankles.

A seagull drifted overhead with a soft, mournful protest - do not go to her. Do not go to the sea.

The woman reached her rolling arms forward and gently pulled Jamie away.