Greg Nooney

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Adam and Iris

Friday 9:00 p.m. Women’s Shelter

Iris sat on her bed and wept. Her mind was racing. Every so often an intense memory hit her and she jerked. Her emotions swept over her like a hot iron on one of Adam’s shirts. She used to let her frustrations out while ironing and once went back and forth, back and forth so many times that she burned a hole. She succeeded in hiding it for two weeks by washing and ironing his other shirts more often until he counted them one day. She took a terrible beating that day, but she knew in that case it had been mostly her fault.

The counselors keep insisting that it isn’t my fault, none of it is they say, but I know that can’t be true. Oh, sure some of it is his fault, but some of it has to be mine. Ten years together, how could I not have some responsibility? I just wish the counselors would realize this. Maybe they would stop helping me if they knew the truth. Maybe it is true of the other women; maybe their men are monsters and none of it is their fault. So what if they discovered that I am not like the other women, that some of it really is my fault? Maybe most of it is my fault. Maybe Adam is right when he says I am the most useless woman he has ever been with.

Someone knocked on the door to tell her that supper was served. I mustn’t let them know I have been crying. She washed her face and put on a fresh shirt. She combed back her hair into a ponytail and walked carefully to the dining room with a reserved smile on her face.

Friday 9:00 p.m. Mary’s house

Adam sat on the bed in the spare bedroom and sighed. His throat was constricted and he felt pressure on his chest. His stomach hurt. He had been very angry and had yelled at his sister Mary. Her husband Bill told him to shut up and he did.

Just like that, as if Bill is somehow my boss. Well I am living in his house. I do need to control that temper of mine. But Mary had been defending Iris and she doesn’t know how she treats me. She doesn’t know what I have been through in dealing with that woman. The way she looks at me out of the corner of her eye like she is spying on me or something. And the way she tries to hide it but how she really disapproves of me and thinks I am stupid. Who is she to be a judge of me? I am the one out there slaving all day while she sits around drinking pop and watching those stupid TV shows. Is it too much to ask that the house be clean and that she cook a decent meal for me?

Bill clenched his fists and could feel his chest feel lighter.

I will apologize to Mary and that will be it. I can’t expect her to understand. She’s bound to take the woman’s side. I can put up with that until I get the house back. If Iris thinks she will get to stay in that house, she is sadly mistaken. I’ll burn that damn place down first! Maybe Bill will put on the game and we can have a couple of beers. The rest of the night doesn’t have to be wasted.

Bill looked in the mirror and combed back his hair. He walked back to the living room determined to take the higher ground and apologize.

Saturday 2:00 a.m. Women’s Shelter

Iris awoke with a start. She flipped on the light and started to write down her dream as her counselor had suggested:

I am walking down a long hallway. The lights are warm and soft. I see a door to my right and enter tentatively. There is a lion at the other end of the room and he is roaring. Strangely I do not at all feel frightened. I think, “After what I have taken from Adam this lion cannot possibly hurt me.” I stand up very straight and slowly walk over to the lion. I notice that he is actually kneeling and there are tears in his eyes. I suddenly feel a sharp pain in my stomach and I fall to the floor. The lion walks over to me, smells me and then places his head in my lap and nuzzles me. Then he starts licking my face. I notice that my stomach no longer hurts and I feel an amazing thrill of energy surge through my body.

Iris slowly re-read the dream and took a very deep breath. She curled up and fell back into a deep restful sleep.

2:00 a.m. Mary’s house, spare bedroom

Adam awoke with a terrible headache. He felt strangely disgusted, almost nauseous. He slowly got up and walked to the bathroom down the hall. He turned on the light and splashed water on his face. He felt his two-day beard and was vaguely irritated with the itch of it.

What the hell is going on? His mind tried to find a way to blame Iris for his awful feelings but he couldn’t muster the energy to convince himself of it. The thought itself seemed absurd. Then he remembered the dream:

I am rolling down a grassy hill, like I used to do as a kid, laughing all the way down. When I reach the bottom I see a river and almost roll into it but stop myself at the last minute. I sit up and look around and see all sorts of animals drinking from the river; deer, elk, fox, coyote, beaver, turkey, quail. I walk up to a tall elk buck and ask him for a blessing. He reels up on his hind legs and lets out a terrible roar. I kneel before him and start to weep. He turns his head and looks across the river. All the other animals look there too so I take a peek. There is a large giantess sitting on the bank crying. She must be thirty feet tall. I get a sudden impulse and quickly swim over to the other side. I look up at her and ask her what is wrong. She tells me that she is tired of carrying the burden of all the animals. I ask her what she means and she says: “This river is formed by my tears, don’t you know that?” Suddenly she slaps me hard across the face and I tumble into the river.

That’s just plump crazy. That big ole bitch crying all them tears.

Suddenly Adam started to cry. He tried to stop himself but failed. He sputtered with strange sounds and coughs. It went on for a full fifteen minutes. Then he threw up in the toilet. He drank a tall glass of water and took a big breath. Strangely he felt lighter, like a load had been taken off him. He wondered if the giantess felt better after crying too. Suddenly he felt pity for her.

She doesn’t deserve it.

Adam gasped.

Neither does Iris.

Adam staggered back to bed. He remembered things he had wanted to forget and shed a few more tears before he fell into a fitful, restless sleep.

Saturday 7:00 a.m. Women’s Shelter

Iris awoke but still had her eyes closed. She felt strangely different, like something important had just happened. She slowly opened her eyes savoring the look of the chest of drawers in the early morning light. She sat up and put her hands on her face, exploring the features like a blind man might do in order to recognize her. She knew that it was going to be a good day.

Saturday 9:00 a.m. Mary’s House, spare bedroom

Adam awoke with a start and jumped up as if there was something he had to do. He glanced at the clock and knew he had to get ready for work. His throat felt scratchy and his belly sore. He suddenly remembered he had been crying.

That’s strange. I wonder if there is more to come.

Adam walked down the stairs slowly, like he had never done so before. He saw a painting in the hallway. It was a lion lying down with a lamb. He had walked by that painting hundreds of times but had never noticed it before. He looked at it closely. It appeared that the lamb was calm, not scared at all. Then he noticed a big tear falling off the lion’s mane.

Or was it sweat? I can’t remember if lions sweat. I know dogs don’t. They pant. I think I’ll help Mary with the breakfast.

He still felt like shit but there was a very slight lilt to his walk as he entered the kitchen.

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