Third Quarter: Third Place Winner
THERAPY
by Aisling Burke
He was handsome, in a rugged, mountain-carved way, and quivering with terror. I had been upstairs folding sheets when I heard his manly shrieks. I ran down the stairs, followed by the children and found him standing on one of my new oak kitchen chairs. He jabbed a shaking finger at the floor.
“A mouse, I definitely saw a mouse,” he squeaked.
“Oh for… Jack, get down off the chair. It won’t bite.” I rolled my eyes upwards and muttered a curse under my breath.
“Mommy said a bad word!” Nick, my four-year-old son said with glee as he toddled in behind me.
“Do mice bite?” Buffy, my seven-year-old asked with a tremor in her voice. She clung to my hand and began to cry. “I don’t want him to hurt my new shoes.”
“No, they don’t.” I stroked her blonde curls and glared at my husband. “Will you please get down from there? You look ridiculous.”
“Is it gone?” he asked.
“I have no idea.” I looked around for the cat. The lazy white fluffy lump was huddled up in a corner licking her paws. So much for the champion mouse catcher. “Why don’t we all go out for pizza? Daddy’s treat.”
“But… It’s a school night,” Buffy said with wide blue eyes at the prospect of her mommy breaking the rules.
“It won’t do you any harm just this once.” I hugged her and kissed the top of her head. Despite her frivolous name my little professor was far too serious. “Go and get your coats, you two.”
“But Lisa…” whined my husband.
“Do you want to make dinner in this kitchen?” I asked. I had been working all day in the hospital and my lower back ached. The thoughts of cooking made me want to hurl a frying pan at Jack’s head. “Because there’s a chance the meat has been nibbled on…”
“Okay, okay, pizza it is then.”
*****
I forced myself to swallow a lump of cheese laden dough. The kids were, of course, having a great time. The waitress had found them crayons and activity sheets to fill out. I, on the other hand had no distraction from the urge to throttle my big, handsome husband.
“Please stop glaring at me,” Jack said.
“I’m not.” I dropped my eyes to my plate. Alright, maybe I was, but I’m entitled to be a little annoyed. It wasn’t that I wanted a domineering alpha male but just sometimes it would be nice if he was a little braver.
“But what is it with you and mice? It’s not as if they can hurt you.”
“I don’t know. They’re just so… icky.” He shuddered.
“Is that even a word?”
“Of course it is. It’s in the dictionary. Everyone has something they’re scared of. Even you, Ms. Amazon woman. So, let’s just drop it; please.” He stuffed pizza into his mouth.
“Okay, but next time; try to deal with your irrational phobia without traumatizing the children.”
“How about we talk about this later?” He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the children.
The children fell asleep in the car on the drive back. Starchy, doughy food always slows them down. Jack didn’t say anything to me. Okay, so maybe I was a little unfair. I loved the big soft lump but Buffy was terrified. If we weren’t careful she would be the one screaming and standing on the kitchen furniture at the first hint of a mouse.
I lifted Nick out of his car seat. His head tucked into the curve of my neck and he smiled. My precious little boy. His warm weight was comforting. Jack carried Buffy. On the doorstep the cat glared up at us with her tail swishing as if to say how dare we leave her on her own!
We carried the sleeping children into the house and deposited them on the couch. Jack went to get their night clothes. As I began to strip off Jack’s shoes the cat wandered in with something brown dangling from her mouth. She dropped it at my feet. I covered my mouth to muffle the shriek that escaped. It was a headless mouse.
“Um… Good girl, good kitty.” I looked around for something to scoop it up with. The cat sat there with her tail swishing. “Jack, can you get the dustpan, please?”
“What’s wrong?” He appeared in the door way with the pajamas in his hands. “I heard a noise.”
“The cat brought us a present.”
I gestured to the floor. His face turned a sickly shade of green but this time he didn’t make a sound. He just dumped the clothes on the couch beside the children and walked out. He came back with the dustpan and brush and handed it to me.
“You could always see it as a way of facing your fears,” I whispered to him.
“I’ll pass thanks. I’d rather pay for the therapy.”
I pushed it into the dustpan with the brush and carried it into the kitchen. I dumped it into the bin. The cat had followed me in. I wagged a finger at her. She just turned around and lifted her tail to flash her bum.
“It’s your job to keep those little critters out of the house,” I said as I reached into the cupboard for a tin of cat food. “The problem is we’re feeding you too well. You’re too lazy to hunt. From tomorrow you are going on a diet.”
*****
The water massaged my back and soothed the aches I didn’t even know I had. I rested my head back against the side of the bath and sighed with bliss. The children were asleep in their beds and Jack was doing something on the computer. There was no one to hassle me for missing shoes or sweets or anything else. I reached down for the book I had left on the floor.
Something touched my hand. I let out a shriek and sat up in the bath. Oblivious to the water that spilled out over the edge I clambered to my knees and peered over the side. There, scurrying along the floor boards was the biggest spider I had ever seen. I pictured poison dripping from its long fangs. Last night I had watched a program on the Discovery channel about Black Widow spiders. Could this be one of them? I huddled up against the side of the bath in a tight ball as far away as I could from the monster.
“Jack! Jack! Help me!” I screamed.
“What’s wrong? Did you fall?” Jack yanked the door open. “Are you hurt?”
“Spider! Spider!” I pointed in the general direction of the floor. “Please, get rid of it for me. It’s huge!”
“Really, I don’t see it.” He hunched down and looked around. To his credit he didn’t laugh although I’m sure I saw a smirk on his face. “Lisa, it’s harmless!”
“Just get rid of it!”
“Are you sure you don’t want to face your fears?”
“Take it outside or there’ll be mice under our duvet waiting to nibble on your toes tonight!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I don’t know how he got rid of it. I screwed my eyes shut during the process. I was terrified that the spider was going to make a dash for freedom and fall into my bath. My practical, mommy side knew it would just drown but a small voice inside me wondered if it was some kind of super spider that knew how to swim. I spend far too much time watching cartoons with my kids. A hand touched my shoulder and I jumped.
“It’s safe to come out now. The spider is all gone.” Jack held out a towel to me.
“It was very big,” I sniffed.
“Huge, ginormous, monstrous. Now, out you get.”
“Did you kill it?”
“No, but it didn’t move when I was taking it outside. I think you drowned it with all the water that spilled out from the bath.”
“Oh no!” I stood up and wrapped the warmed towel around me.
“Are you crazy? You were terrified of it a few minutes ago,” he grumbled.
“But it’s still a living creature.”
“You didn’t seem to be too upset about the beheaded mouse.” He held out a hand to me to steady me as I climbed out. “So, do I get a reward for being your hero?”
“What kind of reward?” I backed away towards the door. I said a quick prayer that the children wouldn’t wake up.
“Surprise me.”
“Okay.” I opened the towel and flashed him. Then I turned and ran for the bedroom.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
My name means beautiful dream or vision. Nurse by day, dancer by night (sometimes the other way around depending on the shifts) and writer in between. I write on buses, trains, planes, anywhere I can find a few spare minutes.
JUDGE’S COMMENTS:
There is much to appreciate in "Therapy," which offers a glimpse into a marriage and a family. Although the narrator-protagonist, Lisa, may not be the most tolerant character ever created, she is certainly a vivid one. The author does a particularly good job differentiating characters through dialogue. A smoother transition from the prompt into the story, and some clearer indication that the encounter with the mouse is merely one of many situations to make Lisa wish for a "braver" husband, might further strengthen this piece.
Note: Thank you to the author for permission to continue posting this fine story.