Saturday, August 7, 2010

Moonstruck




She needed the watering can.

She needed the watering can to water the damn flowers. Why she ever let herself be convinced that gardening was great and wonderful and enjoyable and it made everything look oh so pretty she'd never know. She hated nature and bugs and anything that got dirt under her nails. She was a city girl. A city girl trying to pass country.

Her friends warned her that it would never work. But she didn't listen. She fell in love with his country charm and rugged good looks and he with her city glam and excitable personality. She was besotted. He was different; different from the metrosexuals that littered the city who took more pains in pampering themselves with manis and pedis and waxing off body hair than pampering the women they were with.  Christ, she always felt like she was in some sort of pageant competition with them. She wanted to date a real man for a change. A man that had hair in all the right places and that smelled of man and tasted of man and acted like a man and didn't have fits at the drop of a pin. And she had finally found him.

She had found him. She had found her ideal man at last. And he swept her off her feet with his booming voice and sexy drawl and gentlemanly, tender ways. Tender ways that were left best in the privacy of their home, just the way she liked it. Not the Tweetering, Facebooking fishbowl existence that seemed to be so in and addictive with everybody these days. Nothing was private anymore. Nothing was sacred.

He swept her off her feet and brought her here to his home where white-capped mountains could be seen from their bedroom window, a home that rested on acres and acres of green luscious land. They were drunk with love and spent their days working the ranch and nights lying naked in bed exploring and giving pleasure to each other.

She was happy. Giddy, actually. She had found her ideal man. Her ideal life.

And now she needed that fucking watering can. And her pills. The pills that kept the crazy away, the very ones that had run out a week ago. The pills she had been taking since she hit sixteen when usual teenage behavior no longer could be used as an excuse; the pills she never told him about.

She thought of last night and what had happened. They had been drunk. What started as a good evening went south pretty fast. She began to scream and throw things. She was losing it, she told him. She said she couldn't take this Godforsaken land anymore and was on the verge of a breakdown. She wanted to go back. She wanted to go back to her city. Instead, he kept telling her to calm down and that just angered her more. He grabbed her and tried holding her in an effort to calm her. That only made her feel more trapped. Trapped in a desolate land with no out and now trapped in his arms. That's when she lost it. He wasn't listening! This wasn't some little tantrum in the name of attention, she was loosing it dammit and he wasn't listening! After that, the rest was one big drunken blur. And when she woke this morning he was nowhere to be found, his side of the bed still made. She looked for him all around but couldn't find him and when she saw his truck still parked outside her heart dropped.

No, it was a dream. It had to be.

There was the can. The same watering can she had dreamt of last night. The same watering can she had used in her dream to water the newly-planted flowers over the mound that lay just over the side of this concrete bench. The mound she took such pains to dig and cover under the monstrous full moon.

Her hand quickly covered her mouth in an attempt to silence the disquieting rumblings that were about to scream their way out. And that's when she smelled the dirt. And tasted it. She looked down and finally noticed her dirty clothes. And her fingernails. Fingernails embedded with red-blood dirt, the only reminder of a night gone horribly awry.

27 comments:

Gail said...

May I just say...SUPER F---ING FANTASTIC!

Jingle said...

you grabbed me with your first sentence,
then, love, struggle, fight, dream,..

loved it,
very excellently fine tuned tale.

Helen said...

...and may I ditto what Gail just said (so beautifully) ... this is fantastic!

Wine and Words said...

Loved the ending! I have a thing about dirt :)

Tumblewords: said...

I doubt he'll bloom where planted - an excellent tale.

SW said...

Wowza!!!! Loved your beautifully penned story.

Angie Muresan said...

Well, he had it coming. Just kidding, but really! Loved the way you told it, the sense of urgency, the end.

Templeton's fury said...

This reminded me of Poe's Tell-Tale Heart. I love crazy narrators. awesome.

Catherine said...

Holy crow - that was fantastic! I love your choice of words. Really gripping.

Giggles said...

Wow fantastic! Held me tight throughout!

The Urban Cowboy said...

First time here, and this is my kind of story! Nicely written.

steveroni said...

HOLY SH*T! Ma'am, this is MAH kinda stowree. 'cept Ah'm glad I waren't HIM!!!

VERY well done, Rebecca!
S

Brian Miller said...

excellent pace you set with this one..i got caught in the current...excellent write...

b said...

Good grief Rebecca...you got me so good! You still have it girl!

Be well.

b

http://www.itcrossedmymindblog.com/2010/08/setting-out-poetry-for-sunday.html

AngelMay said...

This was excellently done. No sentimentality. No gush. Just straight-forward, good writing.

RiikaInfinityy said...

Simply amazing and fantastic, loved your words, thank for sharing^^

vivienne blake said...

What a story! I laughed at your descriptions of modern men! But the end was chilling. Bravo.

jaerose said...

Fantastic stuff! Who'd have thought an innocent little watering can could lead the way into such an earth wrenching story..(thanks for your visits) Jae..:)

Rose - The Center of My Self said...

Bravo! As Brian said, excellent pace. The story was full of wonderful images - the city men, the land, the sexy drawl and booming voice, the smell of the dirt - that kept us focused on the story itself, not anticipating the end. That's one of the things I enjoy about your writing; I find myself enjoying the journey. Thank you for sharing your skill and gift, dear Rebecca.

Stafford Ray said...

Sorry it took so long to get back to comment on your great story. Have been busy taking all sharp instruments, shovels and stuff to the dump!

Everyday Goddess said...

Wow! didn't see that coming, excellent magpie!

signed...bkm said...

she should have told him about those little pills....so much for the fairytale romance....Great Magpie!!!...bkm

Teresa said...

Wow! What an amazing story. Makes me wonder just what those little pills were and where I can get some!

Templeton's fury said...

excellent suspense! your writing inspires me and i am giving you an award here:
www.circlingthecuckoosnest.blogspot.com

keep writing!
Templeton

Carrie Burtt said...

Captivating and brilliant writing! Loved it! :-)

willow said...

Uh-oh. Blood red dirt under the nails. Great story!

susanwritesprecise said...

Excellent piece! Love the tension and the ending didn't disappoint. Brava!