Wake to Dream(73)

For months he’d drilled into her his need for a tidy house. Every bit of dust had to be polished from the tables. The floors were to be mopped on a daily basis. Alice had worked herself into exhaustion on several days just to ensure that her husband wouldn’t find anything that would spark his frightening ire.

She’d never seen anything wrong with his demands. He provided her a comfortable life; clothing, food, anything she could possibly need. All he’d asked in return was for her to manage the household chores, to leave him without that one responsibility so that he could see to his activities without concern for the state of his home.

He’d never reacted this badly before, not to the point where he’d caused a physical injury, at least.

His voice a threatening growl, he asked, “Who are you, Alice?”

Choking on the violence of her sobs, she forced herself to take a deep breath before answering, “Your wife.”

His grin grew feral, her fear deepening until she trembled where he held her face barely above the floor. Leaning over her, his breath was a wash of heat across the skin of her cheek, his lips brushing the shell of her ear when he asked, “And what does a wife do for her husband?”

They’d had this conversation several times since they’d been married – mostly when Alice had been careless or made a mistake - and each time Max found a reason to remind her of the rules he’d set, his anger grew darker.

"I cook. I clean. I greet you when you return from your trips.” She choked on the knot of fear in her throat. “I see to your every need.”

Her face hit the floor when he slammed her head down, pain shooting down her spine when the toe of his shoe slammed into the center of her back.

Unable to move due to the jagged pain that gripped her in its crippling fury, Alice didn’t notice when Max walked away, didn’t have a chance to reach up and cover her face before he returned and the tea cup she’d used earlier and had left in the sink to clean was slammed down across her face.

“Clean up your fucking mess. By the time I get back, I expect everything in this house to be exactly as it was before I left on my trip.”

His heavy footsteps grew quieter as he walked through the house, Alice jumping in place when she heard the front door open and slam close.



*

Max hadn’t returned by the time the sun sunk low beneath the horizon and the moon reigned supreme in the night sky. Unable to sleep, Alice sat at the edge of their large bed, her mind racing over the violence she’d suffered at the hands of a man who, until then, had done nothing to physically harm her.

Sure, he’d been temperamental in the past, he’d raised his voice, he’d even grabbed her on occasion, but every time she saw him struggle against his own anger, and eventually, he’d let her go.

After the events of that afternoon, though, Alice wondered if she should leave him – but the thought scared her because it meant she’d be alone.

Her hands played over the small object she gently cradled between them. A symbol of vulnerability and pain, Alice had preserved the tiny white paper crane that Max had created when he told her the story of the scar that followed him from the heartbreaking childhood he’d lived into the emotional mess that became his adult life.

Alice still wasn’t sure of all the secrets Max carried, but she knew he struggled from day to day, his anger and wrath a burden that weighed on his shoulders with every step he took, a monster he fought every second of every day.

Whereas his youth had created in him something fierce and volatile, hers had created in her something fearful and timid. Two halves of the same whole, two souls that carried with them the turmoil of a life abused at the hands of the people who should have cared for them the most.

It was the shared story that tied them to each other, the story that connected them so completely that Alice couldn’t forget the love she felt for Max despite the abuse she’d suffered at his hands.

In many ways, he never grew from that small boy who only wanted to play like other children, and for that, she could understand him completely. Like him, Alice never matured as she would have if given the balance and care implicit to the seeds of a normal life.

In truth, they weren’t much different than the plants Alice nurtured from seedlings into full bloom. With the proper soil and care, those plants were a wondrous beauty, their color and smell a blessing for the world in which they lived. However, if they were damaged in their vulnerable stage, if they were denied the nourishment they required or cut down too many times, they never regained the ability to produce the same fullness of flowers, the same perfect shades of leaves and stems that made them unique amongst the variety of flora that surrounded them.

All Max wanted was a family that loved him. All he needed was a home that spared him the chaos of his earlier life.

That was his reason for the order and cleanliness he demanded, and Alice wondered: If she could provide him the comfort and care he required, would it help diminish the demons that still plagued him?

Standing up from the bed, she walked across the room and placed the paper crane on the bureau that faced their bed, her head turning slightly to listen closely when the sound of the front door downstairs opened and closed.

Max was home, and she hated that she didn’t know whether to be happy he returned or fearful for the damage he could cause.

With the house so quiet that even the chirping of the crickets outside sounded like a loud, melodic chorus, Alice could track Max’ movements as he made his way up the stairs.