[Winkx]: 330.Forces That Hold Us

Forces That Hold Us

It was my lunch break. This was a time for relaxing and eating and having a BREAK! But no, oh no, not today! David just wasn’t going to give me the satisfaction of eating the lunch I packed.

I was walking the two blocks from my work to the flat that I shared with my flatmate and friend David Conner. He was my friend anyway. He was leaving! Well he didn’t tell me that at first. (He sounded depressed as he told me we needed to talk. He said he needed someone to listen to him.) Then he did something that set me off rushing down the sidewalks of Knothole City to my home. He said, oh he said, “Never mind. I’m leaving.” . Then guess what the idiot did! HE HUNG UP! Thirteen minutes later, just about to the point where I would have started making death threats, I made it to my front door. I twisted the knob to open the door…I found it—unfortunately—locked.

“DA-VID CON-NER! UNLOCK THIS DOOR THIS INSTANT!” I screamed just to let him know I was furious with him.

Suddenly I heard a calm voice from the other side say, “No.”

“David!” I growled. “Open this door.”

“No.”

“David what is wrong? Let me help you.” I was practically begging by this point.

“I said no. Didn’t you hear me the first time?” Even though this was serious—at least I thought it was—I could practically hear the smirk tugging on his lips.

“OPEN THIS DOOR!” I had finally snapped…if you hadn’t noticed. “That’s it!” People on our floor started opening their doors to see what the commotion was. “I’ll find my own way in!” (Pause for thinking.) “That’s it! That’s IT!” I had an epiphany! “THE KEY! The key…. The key….” I flipped over the welcome mat we decided on buying almost a year ago and found…nothing.
I flipped.

“YOU TOOK THE KEY!”

“I can’t let you in. I’ll end up staying.” There it was again. That morose, dejected voice I hate to hear from him. In fact, I can’t stand to see him with out a smile on his face.

“Don’t you think I want you to stay?” I questioned him through the door.

“I’m not going to put my problems on your shoulders. I don’t want to do that to you.” Again I didn’t have to see, but I just knew the tears were running down his face.

“Then don’t. Just tell me about them.” I paused, daring myself to say what I really wanted to say. “I…David…I care about you.” I honestly wanted to tell him that I’d fallen in love with him. I had fallen in love with everything about him. “Please. I don’t think I can last without knowing why you’re leaving me.”

Finally I heard the chain lock come undone and the lock of the door turn slowly. I swear my jaw hit the floor. He looked awful. I mean absolutely awful. Poor thing had bags under his tear burned eyes. His long braided hair was disheveled and you can tell it wasn’t his main priority. He just looked at me with those sad eyes.

“Alright, come on.” He stepped aside to let me in.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the couch. David just stared at the cream-colored carpet like it was the most interesting thing in the world. I knew he was upset and that whatever it was was killing him.

“David? David, look at me.” I almost regretted demanding him to do that. I hate it when he cries. “What is wrong?
“My Mom.”

“That tyrant!?”

“Yea, but she’s dying. She…got this number…somehow. She knows I’ll come. She said ‘The artist had better be here when I die.’” He folded his knees to his chest. With his head resting on his knees he just looked at me.

“What are you going to do?” I questioned as I scooted closer to wrap an arm around him.

“I hate her. I really do, Kieara. Then again…she’s my Mother.
My flesh and blood. She’s my Mother and in my heart I still love her. She beat the hell out of me. She abused me, Kieara. She’s my Mother. I have to love her.” He nestled his head between his knees.

I placed my head on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, “Do you want to go see her?”

“Yes.” I heard him whisper.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He shifted so that my other hand was in between the both of his.

“Would you? I don’t think I can handle it. By myself I mean.” He looked up and wiped his tears. “The hospital is in Florida. Maybe we can go to the beach?” He gave me a suggestive look. “I might get to paint you yet.”

I laughed “I doubt it. Well, I see you’re feeling better.”

“Yea.” He sniffed then smiled and I melted into a little puddle of goo. “Thanks.”

I got up and went to the kitchen to make tea and he watched me from the couch. It was a comfortable silence and I appreciated it. He sipped his tea, but mostly, he gave his attention to the cookie he was nibbling at. That’s when I realized he was thinking of something.

“Okay, fess up.” I nudged him with my socked foot.

“Do you want to know part of the reason I wouldn’t let you in?” He inquired with a large goofy grin on his face.

“Why?” I answered back; half out of curiosity and half out of fear.

“Because…Why should I let you in if you have a key on your key ring?”

I blanched.

“My PURSE! I left my purse at the office!”

When we look back on that day we both laugh about how young and stupid we were. I guess thirteen years of marriage does that to you. Yes we got married. Our first kiss was on that Florida beach where he did the first of many paintings of me. Friendship is one of those forces that hold us together. As a human race I mean. I felt many more of such forces, but the one I have found to be the strongest is love. Love is the strongest force that can hold anything—and anyone—together.