Showing posts with label Liza Larregui. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Liza Larregui. Show all posts
The Accident
By Liza Larregui
“Ralphie, if you could just, please, make the table for dinner?” I said, holding our seven month old daughter, Becca, in my arms. I hadn’t realized yet the devil that lurked in his eyes.
“Are you kiddin’, Tess?” He stammered, drunk, as usual.
“Never mind. I didn’t realize how incapable you were today. Again. Why don’t you just wash up and go to bed? I’ll take care of everything, as usual.”
I placed baby Becca in the playpen that occupied most of our living room space, and hurried to the kitchen. It was seven o’clock and Becca needed her milk. Ralph wouldn’t have known that. It had been three months since Ralph had been home before midnight. Why did I think that day, of all days, would be any different? Why did I even bother asking for help, when I knew deep down, I’d be rejected? Why did I continue to live as a victim? I had no answers.
“I’m... going... to take... Becca... for a shower.” Ralph enunciated his words. He did that when he felt that he needed to prove he was sober. It only proved how ridiculous he was.
“Oh, no, you are not, Ralphie. I think you need to go upstairs. Please.” I said, picking Becca up, in fear he’d get to her first. “You know babies don’t take showers.” I tried treating him like a small child. I figured the soft tones might make him understand me, or at the very least, listen to me.
“Is there a reason you won’t let me take care of my daughter?” He said, as he swayed side to side, walking to where I was.
“Ralphie, you have had a lot to drink. You need to go upstairs and take it easy. I will give Becca her bottle and put her down to bed. If you go upstairs, I will meet you there in a few minutes. Okay?” I said, hoping he would comprehend, though knowing he wouldn’t.
Looking into his eyes, it appeared he had understood something I had said. I loved him. I truly did. I had missed the days before Becca. Before he became this...thing.
I remember coming home to a different man. A man who loved me. A man who cared. I wondered what had happened.
Just as Ralphie reached the top of the stairs, he looked down at me over the railing and whispered something. I couldn’t make it out.
“What was that you said?” I asked.
“I love you, Tess.” Just as a tear rolled down my cheek, I heard the tumble. I couldn’t see it. I only remember a blur. I ran to the landing, where my husband had fallen to, and stood in shock over his lifeless body. Becca cried. Her tears soaking my shirt. Her cries numbing me.
My tears came faster, heavier. I kneeled down next to him and held Becca close to my chest. As the minutes wore on, I realized my sadness had turned to relief. I was no longer a victim. I was free.
- - -
Liza Larregui has been writing since she learned how to use a typewriter at the age of five. Only recently has she decided to submit her work for publishing. She lives in NYC with her husband and her MacBook.
By Liza Larregui
“Ralphie, if you could just, please, make the table for dinner?” I said, holding our seven month old daughter, Becca, in my arms. I hadn’t realized yet the devil that lurked in his eyes.
“Are you kiddin’, Tess?” He stammered, drunk, as usual.
“Never mind. I didn’t realize how incapable you were today. Again. Why don’t you just wash up and go to bed? I’ll take care of everything, as usual.”
I placed baby Becca in the playpen that occupied most of our living room space, and hurried to the kitchen. It was seven o’clock and Becca needed her milk. Ralph wouldn’t have known that. It had been three months since Ralph had been home before midnight. Why did I think that day, of all days, would be any different? Why did I even bother asking for help, when I knew deep down, I’d be rejected? Why did I continue to live as a victim? I had no answers.
“I’m... going... to take... Becca... for a shower.” Ralph enunciated his words. He did that when he felt that he needed to prove he was sober. It only proved how ridiculous he was.
“Oh, no, you are not, Ralphie. I think you need to go upstairs. Please.” I said, picking Becca up, in fear he’d get to her first. “You know babies don’t take showers.” I tried treating him like a small child. I figured the soft tones might make him understand me, or at the very least, listen to me.
“Is there a reason you won’t let me take care of my daughter?” He said, as he swayed side to side, walking to where I was.
“Ralphie, you have had a lot to drink. You need to go upstairs and take it easy. I will give Becca her bottle and put her down to bed. If you go upstairs, I will meet you there in a few minutes. Okay?” I said, hoping he would comprehend, though knowing he wouldn’t.
Looking into his eyes, it appeared he had understood something I had said. I loved him. I truly did. I had missed the days before Becca. Before he became this...thing.
I remember coming home to a different man. A man who loved me. A man who cared. I wondered what had happened.
Just as Ralphie reached the top of the stairs, he looked down at me over the railing and whispered something. I couldn’t make it out.
“What was that you said?” I asked.
“I love you, Tess.” Just as a tear rolled down my cheek, I heard the tumble. I couldn’t see it. I only remember a blur. I ran to the landing, where my husband had fallen to, and stood in shock over his lifeless body. Becca cried. Her tears soaking my shirt. Her cries numbing me.
My tears came faster, heavier. I kneeled down next to him and held Becca close to my chest. As the minutes wore on, I realized my sadness had turned to relief. I was no longer a victim. I was free.
- - -
Liza Larregui has been writing since she learned how to use a typewriter at the age of five. Only recently has she decided to submit her work for publishing. She lives in NYC with her husband and her MacBook.
The Reunion
By Liza Larregui
I squealed in delight at the sight of Nancy. “What took you so long?” With my hands clasped together in excitement, I jumped out of my seat as quickly as someone my age could.
“Ah, well, it’s been a rough few months for me. With all the craziness goin’ on in my family, I’m lucky to have even come by today!” Nancy, after all these years, still spoke with that slow, soft southern drawl. Her short brown hair smelled of coconut, obviously still her favorite scent. The warmth of her hug brought me back to before it all happened.
We both settled onto the couch, with my seat still sunken in with the impression of my body. We spoke for hours about her family. The births and deaths, the marriages and divorces. I showed her my family album, overflowing with pictures from the events that had transpired throughout the years we had been estranged.
“Elizabeth, you have told me every little tidbit, down to the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that’s going rotten in your refrigerator.” Nancy took my hand in hers and held it tightly. “I know you have questions. We don’t have too much more time. Please. Ask what you need to.” I took my hand back and looked away from her. It was so refreshing to see Nancy again, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what happened.
“How’s your dad?” I figured I’d start small. Nancy was always close with her father; I knew talking about him would divert the inevitable.
“He’s doin’ well. I just visited him last week. He’s still with Joanne. Do you remember her?” She smiled as she spoke of Joanne, her stepmother. Things hadn’t been right between them when it happened. I was happy to hear that changed.
“Are you kidding? Of course I remember Joanne! She was a second mother to me!”
“They have a nice little set up down the road from where I am. Mama and him are great friends now too. The three of them have dinner all the time. Can you believe it?” Nancy paused a moment. “I know there has got to be more questions lingerin’ in that head of yours. Out with it.”
“What happened?” I blurted the question, not really wanting to know but needing to know.
“Some of it is a blur but what I do remember is very vivid. I remember walkin’ into the break room to clock out. It was about 6:00 at night and I was a mess. I had an earth science exam the following day and was miserable about it. My boss had just taken my weekend shift away from me to give it to his niece because she needed extra money. I had a mind to call his boss to discuss favoritism but I knew that would only cause more havoc in my life. I grabbed my coat and stormed out. I had planned to call out the next day just to screw with the manager. I walked through the wooded area to Main Street everyday. I was never scared because I never was given a reason to be. And I was so angry that day. As I went over in my head ways to tell Daddy and Joanne that I was going to fail science, I heard a noise behind me.” Nancy stopped for a moment to think.
“Are you okay? Can I get you a glass of something? Water, ginger-ale?”
“No, no. I’m fine. Just hard to talk about but it feels good to finally tell you.” Nancy slowly stood up and walked over to my fire place. She leaned on it for support and maybe some heat, as the room was getting a bit colder.
“Anyway, like I was sayin’, I heard a noise. I turned around but didn’t see much. It was 6:00 at night on a January day. It was dark and the big old trees didn’t make it any better. I continued walkin’ until I heard the noise again. It was a rustling and a grunt. I yelled out that if any of my friends were playin’ a trick on me, it wasn’t funny and to stop. I continued on talkin’ to myself about how horrible of a day it was turnin’ out to be. Just then, I was knocked to the ground. The back of my head hit a large rock that had been sitting there for years. A rock I probably passed a million times on my way home everyday. And that’s where the details get a little fuzzy. I remember a gray haze when I opened my eyes. I wasn’t sure who I was lookin’ at, but there definitely was someone. He, or she, had a dark hood on. I can’t believe I still don’t know if it was even a boy or girl who killed me.” I began to cry.
“Liz, honey, don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m here now.” She ran over to where I was and sat beside me. She wrapped her arms around mine and gave me one of her comforting bear hugs. I had always missed her hugs. “Good thing I’m done with my story. You poor thing couldn’t handle much more.” Even now, she was concerned more with me than herself.
“I know why you are really here.” I knew all along that I would one day meet her again. She hugged me tighter as the tears stung my eyes.
“It’s okay. We will get through this together.” We took one last walk around my house so that I could say goodbye. Hand in hand, we walked together, into my eternal future.
- - -
Liza Larregui has been writing since she learned how to use a typewriter at the age of five. Only recently has she decided to submit her work for publishing. She hopes to one day see her name in print.
By Liza Larregui
I squealed in delight at the sight of Nancy. “What took you so long?” With my hands clasped together in excitement, I jumped out of my seat as quickly as someone my age could.
“Ah, well, it’s been a rough few months for me. With all the craziness goin’ on in my family, I’m lucky to have even come by today!” Nancy, after all these years, still spoke with that slow, soft southern drawl. Her short brown hair smelled of coconut, obviously still her favorite scent. The warmth of her hug brought me back to before it all happened.
We both settled onto the couch, with my seat still sunken in with the impression of my body. We spoke for hours about her family. The births and deaths, the marriages and divorces. I showed her my family album, overflowing with pictures from the events that had transpired throughout the years we had been estranged.
“Elizabeth, you have told me every little tidbit, down to the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that’s going rotten in your refrigerator.” Nancy took my hand in hers and held it tightly. “I know you have questions. We don’t have too much more time. Please. Ask what you need to.” I took my hand back and looked away from her. It was so refreshing to see Nancy again, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what happened.
“How’s your dad?” I figured I’d start small. Nancy was always close with her father; I knew talking about him would divert the inevitable.
“He’s doin’ well. I just visited him last week. He’s still with Joanne. Do you remember her?” She smiled as she spoke of Joanne, her stepmother. Things hadn’t been right between them when it happened. I was happy to hear that changed.
“Are you kidding? Of course I remember Joanne! She was a second mother to me!”
“They have a nice little set up down the road from where I am. Mama and him are great friends now too. The three of them have dinner all the time. Can you believe it?” Nancy paused a moment. “I know there has got to be more questions lingerin’ in that head of yours. Out with it.”
“What happened?” I blurted the question, not really wanting to know but needing to know.
“Some of it is a blur but what I do remember is very vivid. I remember walkin’ into the break room to clock out. It was about 6:00 at night and I was a mess. I had an earth science exam the following day and was miserable about it. My boss had just taken my weekend shift away from me to give it to his niece because she needed extra money. I had a mind to call his boss to discuss favoritism but I knew that would only cause more havoc in my life. I grabbed my coat and stormed out. I had planned to call out the next day just to screw with the manager. I walked through the wooded area to Main Street everyday. I was never scared because I never was given a reason to be. And I was so angry that day. As I went over in my head ways to tell Daddy and Joanne that I was going to fail science, I heard a noise behind me.” Nancy stopped for a moment to think.
“Are you okay? Can I get you a glass of something? Water, ginger-ale?”
“No, no. I’m fine. Just hard to talk about but it feels good to finally tell you.” Nancy slowly stood up and walked over to my fire place. She leaned on it for support and maybe some heat, as the room was getting a bit colder.
“Anyway, like I was sayin’, I heard a noise. I turned around but didn’t see much. It was 6:00 at night on a January day. It was dark and the big old trees didn’t make it any better. I continued walkin’ until I heard the noise again. It was a rustling and a grunt. I yelled out that if any of my friends were playin’ a trick on me, it wasn’t funny and to stop. I continued on talkin’ to myself about how horrible of a day it was turnin’ out to be. Just then, I was knocked to the ground. The back of my head hit a large rock that had been sitting there for years. A rock I probably passed a million times on my way home everyday. And that’s where the details get a little fuzzy. I remember a gray haze when I opened my eyes. I wasn’t sure who I was lookin’ at, but there definitely was someone. He, or she, had a dark hood on. I can’t believe I still don’t know if it was even a boy or girl who killed me.” I began to cry.
“Liz, honey, don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m here now.” She ran over to where I was and sat beside me. She wrapped her arms around mine and gave me one of her comforting bear hugs. I had always missed her hugs. “Good thing I’m done with my story. You poor thing couldn’t handle much more.” Even now, she was concerned more with me than herself.
“I know why you are really here.” I knew all along that I would one day meet her again. She hugged me tighter as the tears stung my eyes.
“It’s okay. We will get through this together.” We took one last walk around my house so that I could say goodbye. Hand in hand, we walked together, into my eternal future.
- - -
Liza Larregui has been writing since she learned how to use a typewriter at the age of five. Only recently has she decided to submit her work for publishing. She hopes to one day see her name in print.
