Anniversary
Written by J. Romanov

I

The air is cold and biting, and the earth frozen.  The last of fall leaves remain broken like the branches of the trees, like the exterior of a house, of the Victorian style in the middle of the woods.  There is nothing here.  Not anymore at least.  A sort of stillness surrounds the house, the trees, and the air. 

The house’s only distinguishable feature is a red door.  Other than that, the paint is chipping away and leaving behind nothingness.  And aside from that, the house lives with the trees, and surrounded by memories.  In the lawn there is one particular tree with a broken branch.  From the branch is a rope tied to an old worn tire.  And the earth is consuming the tire and the rope.  The bit of dirt around the tire is sprouting a flower.  Inside, behind the red door and the broken walls is Mr. Gardner.  He has prepared dinner for four. 

Pouring his self a glass of wine he leans against the counter, “Well, I do think Mrs. Gardner will be very proud of me, don’t you think?” 

“Mrs. Gardner would have been very delighted, sir.  I mean, she will.”  The duke lay flat on the kitchen floor, his eyes getting lost in the grains of hardwood floors.  He notices how the grains go one way, but are intermittently interrupted by a crack.  He thinks how life is such.  Always and constantly interrupted, but not ever so fully, because everything in life has a story attached.  And like veins carrying blood to the heart, all stories are perfectly interwoven together, fitting ever so perfectly like pieces of a puzzle.  Duke wonders where he and his master fit in this story

“Well Duke, I sure hope you’re hungry. I made you your favorite.”  Mr. Otterbein went to the fridge and pulled out a plate covered in foil, before closing the door he pulled out a bottle of wine.  He set the plate down, and went to the counter and opened the bottle, and refilled his glass.  “Well, go on Duke, dig in.” 

“Thank you, sir.”  Duke dragged himself to his plate, “Oh! Steak, again… thank you…”

“Well, you don’t have to be cross with me, Duke.  If you don’t want to eat it, then don’t.”  Mr. Gardiner picked up his wine and started pacing in the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry, sir. I really am.  All I’m saying is, don’t you think Mrs. Gardner would want more for us?” 

“Fuck you! You don’t know the slightest thing about her. I never wanted you! Not even the day she brought you home!”  He threw his glass at Duke, and without second thought Duke scampered to his feet and ran behind the door.  The glass shattered and the pieces were strewn about scarring the floors.  “Oh no! Everything is ruined now.  What will Mrs. Gardner think of this mess? I’m sorry, duke.  I’m sorry.” Mr. Gardner went over to duke, picked him up, gave him a kiss, and set him down.  Duke licked Mr. Gardner’s hand and sat on his hind legs watching Mr. Gardner go about cleaning the mess.  Outside, the wind started stirring the trees, and snow began to fall like ashes of a burning house.
 

II 

“Oh, Michael, where’s your brother?  We’re running late.  Your dad is making dinner for us.  Isn’t that just wonderful?”  Mrs. Gardner was helping her son with the seatbelt in the back seat of a mini van.  Michael was in third grade and two years younger then his brother, Kevin.   He kept fidgeting and kicking his feet. 

“Kevin is talking to a girl,” stretching out girl with a high-pitched voice.

“Oh! That’s so cute.”  Mrs. Gardiner got back behind the steering wheel, and fixed her hair.  The wind started to pick up, and the chill from outside found its way into the van.  Kevin opened the passenger door and giving his mom a kiss, “Hi Mom! Let’s go! I’m starved!” 

“Now wait a minute, who is this girl you were talking to?”  Michael’s cheeks were red from the cold wind outside, but anyone could have made out his blush.  He fidgeted and at instant picked up his backpack and threw it at his brother, “Oh Michael! Why did you have to tell mom!?  You can’t keep your mouth shut! Tattle-tale!” 

Michael whined, “Mom!” 

“Hush boys!  Kevin, apologize to your brother.” 

Kevin scowled, “Sorry.” 

Mrs. Gardiner started the car and turned on the radio.  She noticed flecks of ash on the window and worried she would be trapped in a snowstorm.  She pulled out of the school parking lot.  She drove until she came to a stoplight, and looked at the time, “Oh darn.  We’re late!”  She looked over at Kevin and squeezed his leg, “You don’t have to be embarrassed about anything.  It’s perfectly fine.  You know, today is the day your dad and I got married.” 

Kevin smiled, “Her name is Alice.” 

“Oh?  Is she sweet?”  Michael blushed, “Mhmm!”  He turned to the foggy window and began to draw.

III 

Lou was a middle-aged truck driver with an uncanny ability at poker, challenging anyone who dare cross him.  That same evening, while Mrs. Gardner was picking up her children, he was playing a game with Hutch and company.

“This is your last game Lou.  Your luck has run out.” 

Lou peered above his cards, took the last swig of drink and set it amongst his collection on the table.  He snickered, “I wouldn’t be so sure Hutch! We’ll show them at the count of the three, ok?” 

“Ok.” 

“One. Two…”

“Three!”

Lou laid out his hand and smiled victoriously.  Hutch’s smirk disappeared, “Oh! You rotten bastard! One day Lou!”  Lou smiled and offered his hand to Hutch, “Good game.”

“Yeah, yeah. One more round?” 
“Not another game, but one last round of drinks before I go to the missus.” 

“How’s she doing, anyways?”  Hutch started collecting the cards; his face hardened and serious. 
“Oh, I don’t know.  It’s hard to tell sometimes.  The doctor’s say she’s getting better, but I swear she’s closer to the grave every day.”  Lou finished his beer and setting it down stuffed his winnings into his pocket, “Well, I better get going!”

“Yes, well… one day I’ll win! Oh, but do say hi to the missus!”  Lou searched for his keys and finding them in his hands, smiled, and walked out the door.    

IV

Mr. Otterbein sat in the living room; he traded in his glass for the bottle.  His eyes lazily found Duke who was lying at his feet, “Do you know the time, duke? She’s late, again.”  Duke lifted his head, then drooped it, and licked his paw.  Mr. Otterbein set down the bottle, surrounded by all the other trophies; he went to the fridge for another.  Coming back into the room he says, “Perhaps some music while we wait?  How about Mozart’s last requiem?  Oh, you don’t care, do you duke?”  Duke got up and sneered at Mr. Otterbein, “I do care! I do care very much, but I’m tired of living like this!”  Shocked at his response Mr. Otterbein fell backwards on the couch.  Duke left him with his wine and Mozart.

V 

“Damn this!”  Mrs. Gardner hit the steering wheel hard; she was lucky enough to catch all the red lights.  She started noticing the ash like snow grow thicker and collect on the window.  She put on the wipers, and then turned over to look at Michael in the back seat fast asleep but smiling.  She smiled.  Kevin kept fogging up his window, “Kevin, please don’t do that. I can’t see anything when you do that.  Use your sleeve to wipe it off.”  Kevin sneered but did as he was told.  Mrs. Gardner kept tussling her hair and put on lipstick using the rear view mirror, not paying much attention to the truck. 

Lou was behind the wheel and thinking about his wife and her condition.  He didn’t notice Mrs. Gardner’s car coming up fast, “Shit!”  He slammed the breaks, but the winds had iced over the thin layers of ash that he skidded. And he skidded straight into the back of Mrs. Gardner’s mini van pushing it into the middle of the intersection.  At the same time, a white car was crossing and hit Mrs. Gardner’s mini van on the side rolling it over twice.  The mini van kept skidding and swaying side to side until it stopped.

Lou’s truck stopped where Mrs. Gardner’s van was waiting for the light to turn green.  His eye’s widened, and mouth open in disbelief.  “Oh, God.”  He got out of his car and ran to the wreck.  Inside, Mrs. Gardner was pinned between her seat and the passenger seat with one arm stretched out in attempt to protect Kevin from hitting the dashboard.  Lou, lost in the dashboard painted shades of red, heard a whimper coming from the back.  He looked in the back and saw Michael pinned under his car seat.  “Hold on, kid! I’m going to get you out of there! I swear it I will. I swear it I will!”

VI

Mr. Gardner sat with his eyes half open, and his hand holding onto the bottle of wine.  On the nightstand a cigarette burned in an ashtray.  Mozart didn’t finish his last requiem, but the record kept spinning and the needle played a broken vinyl sound.  In the kitchen, the table was set for four, but the plates, knives, and glasses had ash on them.  As of they have been waiting there for years, never once being touched or cleaned from their plague.  The counter was a grave for fallen bottles, and cigarettes.  He had left the candles burning, and the wax began to collect on the tablecloth.  Duke walked into the living room and jumped onto the couch where Mr. Gardner lay.  He went over and licked his face and scratched him and barked, but Mr. Gardner wouldn’t wake.  Duke whimpered, and lay down next to him, and closed his eyes.

“And how are we today, Miss Emily?”
“Oh just fine, dear. I’m just fine.”

Miss Emily is sitting in a chair facing the window.  In one hand she holds a cup of coffee, and in the other a cigarette.  The walls of the room are white and colorless, but have more expression than her face.  In one corner of the room there’s a bed with a complementing nightstand.  The sheets on the bed are perfectly straightened and show no signs of it ever being used. On the nightstand are ashtrays with cigarette butts and little mountains of ash.  The entire room is clean and bright except for the overflowing ash from the ashtrays and except for Miss Emily.  Her hair is greasy and her eyes tired.  She gives out a sigh and put outs her cigarette.  She stretches out her hand and the lady in white gives her two pills, “These pills are to help you, Miss Emily.  You know we’re here to help you.”  Miss Emily takes the pills dry and shaking her head, “Nothing helps.”  The lady in the white leaves, and Miss Emily lights a cigarette.