ࡱ> GIF 9BbjbjVV .N<<9:$? KKKKK&&&FHHHHHH=vH&&&&&HKK]&KKF&FKPP2s0l&&&&&&&HH&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& : BENJAMINS WALL by Elizabeth Johnston West Virginia Fiction Competition, First-Place Prize Mara Fallon hung her hand on the porch railing and wondered at how dead her senses had been before she left home, these seven unsold acres of the land her grandfather once tilled. The wind flung her dark hair about like a plaything, rippling her borrowed plaid shirt. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the air, ignoring the faint drone of the interstate a mile away. She and the children were staying at what had become her fathers place while the cleaners attempted to scrub the blood splattered over her bed and the wall at home. Mara already anticipated their qualifiers and protests: We-ll, Mrs. Fallon, the wall looks fine, butyeah, maybe youll have to repaint it! Only a miracle could restore the wall to its ivory shade, and the bedspread was beyond recovery. Benjamin had chosen one of the worst possible places to end his life. Mara still knew shame from first finding his body. At least she had found the mess before their three children. Benjamin Fallon was born impulsive. And she, his wife, had seen little evidence of depression. For as long as she had known him, his bouts of moodiness had come and passed as easily as clouds rolling through the sky. Mara was not surprised at his failure to leave a suicide note. If Benjamin had paused long enough to scrawl one, he would have changed his mind about the whole affair and gone fishing. Why couldnt you have waited, Ben? A muffled thump and wail inside the house jerked Maras hand from the railing, and she pushed through the door, already knowing what she would find. At first she could hear her fathers even voice calming some furious child, but another agonized howl propelled her down the brown-carpeted stairs and into the basement. Her children had apparently exhausted her fathers skills in mediation. Despite the age his silvered temples and wind-worn skin announced, her father tightly gripped one grandchilds arm with his right hand and the belt of the other. Both children flailed their fists in a series of vain attempts to pound one another. Three-year-old Cass plodded toward her. Hlo, Momma. Mara threw him a strained smile and grabbed his sister before she kicked her grandfather in an attempt to escape. Annalees blonde hair swung wildly, loose from the headband Mara had laid out that morning. Lee? Annalee squirmed and jabbed Mara in the stomach with an elbow. Lee! Annalee, recognizing the tone of voice, collapsed limply at the end of Maras arm. Mara nearly dropped her. Eight-year-old Jamie, from the firm grip of his grandfather, glared severely at his sister. Cass tugged Maras skirt. His sunny cowlick, which she had failed to wet down that morning, stood several inches high. Mara didnt wonder that mothers passed down those fairy tales; everyone had wished, at some point, for the ability to lock their charges in a tower. Dad, what happened? Jamie complained first. Lee screamed first. Othern that, I dont know. I was in the living room. Her dad released his grasp on Jamies shirt. Jamies a baby tattletale, explained Annalee. Jamie growled. She said the car I want is stupid. Youre too little to get it, Lee taunted. Younger by a year, she had long ago begun her rebellion against Jamies seniority. Lee to the corner. Jamie, outside. Mara set Cass on her hip, and he snuggled close. Jamie bolted for the stairs. Annalee sulked the way to her place of punishment. Maras father slumped onto the couch. Cass kicked his legs against her. Go, Momma.His index finger guided them out the back door, following the path Jamie had taken. Jamie lay flung under one of the leaning old trees, hands propping his chin a few inches off the ground. Dark strands of hair hung into his dark eyes, and Mara couldnt decipher the expression on his face. It was the greatest car I ever seen, he said to the grass. Mara settled beside him. What color was it? Red? Jamie stiffened. Brown. Red had been Jamies favorite color for years. Jamie seemed to divine her thought. Browns my new favorite color, he muttered, tersely. Cass clapped his small hands. Brown my favorite color too. And blue and green and yellow like Daddys teef. Quiet, Cass, Jamie grumbled. But Casss description of his late fathers teeth was nearly accurate. Benjamin had believed in oral hygieneonce a week. A howl reverberated through the trees. Mara clenched her teeth and deposited Cass beside his older brother. Jamie, please watch him for a moment. Jamie grunted. Mara found her father attempting to console a screaming Annalee. Youre all right. Just calm down.He laid a hand on her shoulder, but Lee slapped it away. Leave me be, Pappy, she wailed. I want my daddy! Arthur looked to Mara helplessly. She cringed at her daughters indelicacy. The grief was natural. But Annalee had obviously hurt her grandfather. Lee, its okay. Lee sobbed, and Maras reason cracked. She saw the bedspread, spongy with blood, her hands gathering it up and stuffing it into a black garbage bag. Shed knotted the bag, stared at the bed againand realized that the sheets, too, were stained, the sheets given by her mother, who had died of a stroke the year before. Ruined. Annalees choking breaths jerked Mara. Daddy,she mumbled feverishly. Maras heart tore for the child. I know its rough, Leejust try to be nice, honey. Okay? You can go on out with your brothers if you want. You dont have to stand in the corner anymore. Annalee slumped toward the stairs, head hung low. She clung to the railing as she dragged herself up each step. Mara heard slow footfalls in the kitchen, the door gradually creaking openuntil Lee slammed it and clambered noisily down the porch steps. Mara and her father looked at one another. Neither was surprised when decidedly male bellows drowned out the interstate noise three minutes later. Ill get them, Mara sighed, and went out. That night Mara slept with the boys in the living room. Her old bedroom was reserved for Annalee who, Mara reflected, could hardly deserve it less. The child had tormented her brothers for most of the day, reserving her worst tricks for Jamie, who desperately needed to be left alone. Lee never was easy to deal with, and Benjamins death had only worsened her constant antics. Mara rolled over in her sleeping bag and pushed up to look at the boys, lying on the foldout couch. Jamie had unconsciously flung a leg across Cass's chest, but the three-year-old lay unmoved, his hair silver in the moonlight. The covers trailed over the side of the couch to rest on a pile of his favorite cars. He had insisted on bringing them. Mara rolled again, to face a doll that Annalee had fitted with a tin foil helmet and sword. It stared at her with round eyes. Suddenly Benjamin was looking at her, smiling, holding her hand. Benjamin told her she had a face like Eve's in Paradise, and she believed him. He stood by her bed in the hospital, holding a howling, red-faced newborn. "Purty, ain't he?" he said, winking and cradling their baby against his chest. Cass's snoring awoke her. Mara's feet were sweaty, and Benjamin was gone. He should have shot himself through the side of his head, and not the front, so an open casket funeral might have been possible. A tremor jerked Maras body, but she shoved to her feet, kicked the sleeping bag away, and walked outside. Dewy grass tore and stuck against her toes. The moon stared blankly as hidden crickets called. The interstate traffic moaned a mile away. Mara struggled against her hot eyes and gasped for breath. No, no, no. Her lips formed the words, but her vocal chords wouldnt cooperate. A wet pinecone unexpectedly met her foot. Maras heart jolted, and she suddenly realized just how far she had wandered from the house. She turned and dashed toward it in renewed urgency. Earth, invisible in the darkness, met her pale thumping feet. She could run forever. Then her feet touched hard-packed dirt and wooden steps. She sat on the bottom one and did not move until the eastern sky drew back and mist drifted over the mountains. Mara watched the sun step into the heavens. She needed to go inside. The children would wake up and find her missing. They might think she had chosen Benjamins way out. She found clothes and sleeping children inside the house. Her father made coffee, and she drank it with him. He cooked eggs, and the children woke up. Cass was the first. Barefoot, he padded over to her, wrapped his arms about her waist, and snuggled his face in her lap. Mara set down her forkful of eggs and laid her hands on his warm little back. Mornin, Cass,she whispered, kissing him. Morin, he mumbled, not letting go. Jamie entered, fastening his belt. Mara smiled at him. Her normal requirementthat his hair be flat before he had breakfastcould pass for a week. Her father silently agreed. Sit on down, Jamie. You want eggs? Yeah, said Jamie. Scrambled, dunky, or omelet? That last one, nodded Jamie. Arrightcheese? Sure. Her father started new eggs cooking and put in cheese. Oh, you want any tomatoes? No, said Jamie. I got to do my hair. Ill be back. He left. Lee shuffled in with pasty spit dried against her cheek. Mara assumed the girl hadnt yet looked in a mirror. Mornin, Lee, Mara said. Cass raised his head to look at his sister. A glance, and his face returned to Maras lap. Her father finished Jamies omelet and set it on the table. Lee plopped into a chair and immediately began devouring it. Jamie re-entered, his hair combed down, and saw what Lee was doing. Momma, that was mine,he complained. Mara bit back a groan. Ill make you another un, her father promised. Jamie sent Lee a dangerous glareshe was too busy swallowing his eggs to noticeand scooted into the chair farthest from her. Her father finished the second omelet and set it in front of Jamie. Cass grabbed at Maras arms, wanting to be picked up. She lifted him into her lap and cuddled him to her breast. Through dim weariness, she felt his warmth, and her chin nuzzled his hair. Her father finished a plate of eggs for himself and pulled out the chair between Mara and Lee. Jamie, stiff-shouldered, shoved down his last forkful, deposited his plate in the sink, and slammed out the back door. Lee burped loudly. Say excuse me, Mara corrected. I couldnt help it bein in there, Lee said. Mara looked to the ceiling. You could have kept your mouth shut while you did it. Lee shrugged. Scuse me.She put an ungainly amount of omelet in her mouth and swallowed. Lee twirled a strand of guileless blonde hair about her finger. Mara directed her gaze into LeesBenjaminsblue eyes. First of all, you need to go apologize to Jamie for takin his breakfast. You were rude, and youre goin to tell him youre sorry. Second, dont ever stuff that much food in your mouth at once. Do you hear me, young lady? Annalee bobbed her head. Go find Jamie. Now. Annalee shot out of the room, abandoning her egg-smeared plate. Later, Jamie returned alone. Did Annalee apologize to you? Mara inquired. Jamie scuffed a toe, smeared with black earth, against the carpet. Apparently he had managed to lose his shoes somewhere outside. She said, Sorry, baby! Of all times, Lee. Theres not a one of us needs this. Not ever, and especially not now. Pain pounded against her skull. She wanted to run out to the grove of trees that bordered the old cornfieldthe Fletchers owned the field now and grew alfalfashe wanted to shove her face in the dark leaves fifteen feet up. Silent leaves, silent branches, that would never burp or kick or shoot themselves. She saw Benjamin in Jamies face, too, and the throbbing filled her mind. Blood. Dead, dead. Mara whirled, the intensity rising from her legs and overpowering her stomach. The bathroom was too far away. She jerked through the front door, fell to her knees, and bent over the edge of the porch as her insides lurched violently. A river of vomit poured from her mouth and into the flowerbed. Well, Benjamin, there go Mommas roses. Dimly she heard Jamie crying her name. Casss footsteps plunked across the porch and faltered. She retched again, and something clear sprinkled the soil. Bedroom wallbedroom wall. Her head pounded. Mara! The voice had said Mara,not Momma.Benjamin. Mara, Mara. Hands drew her hair backlive hands, and clean. He brushed her neck, gently. Warm. Its warm. The voice talked to her and pulled her close. She didnt ken the language. Tongues of men, and of angels Then she saw her fathers worn sleeves wrapped around her. We got our timeGod had his time. A week aint long enough to set it past. Go on and cry. Aint a person on earth wouldnt. Mara opened her eyes as she wept. 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