Gobble – Home for a Turkey
Pray for that one family member that everyone is worried about who will not catch a clue. Turkeys are for Thanksgiving!
Constance saw her reflection in the mirror, concern covering each edge of her mouth and the corner of each eye.
A grisly sight to see, her face that is.
Far from burning ugliness, she was ugly. Not the type of ugly fixed by the surgeon's knife either. That kind of ugly, skin ugly, has a cure. Constance’s ugly had nothing to do with the way she looked naturally. Naturally, she defined beauty. Normally...
Nevertheless, ugly was on her face as big as any part of it.
A shiner... A big black and blue circle enclosed her eye--Halloween in nature. A burnt blue muffin on her face, with a reddish haze around the edges of the bruise sent out adverts of vexation.
The "ugly" about Constance is the excuse that she planned to give her family regarding that black eye shining so black, red, and blue on her face during her visit for Thanksgiving dinner.
A lie is what she planned to tell her father and her brothers. The truth that her new eye color exists because Roman made it happen, evoked fear a confrontation would erupt leading to jail time for her brothers, death for Roman, or both!
“I started it,” she said to herself out loud without realizing it. “If I would have just….”
The thought crossed her mind, when she stopped speaking, that she sounded like one of the battered wives on the Lifetime Channel sobbing about their man-hating stories.
"No," she commanded herself. "I am not that woman!"
Roman and Constance do not engage in battery. "We are a modern equal couple that would never hurt each other," assurance swelling in her words. Yet, her red blueberry muffin eye still existed in the mirror.
Make-up was not a viable option unless the swelling went down. It’s not like she had a steak in the house being a non-red-meat-eater. She wondered if that could even work?
“It’s cold,” she utters aloud. “The frozen veggies will do just fine.”
Forced smile lurched from the mirror momentarily causing her to see, for a split second, a stranger in the mirror! Forced smile almost caused her to have a panic attack!
The face in the mirror belonged to that body, her body. But the light in her reflection's eyes, the soul looked dim and diminishing.
“I’m fine,” unconvincingly regurgitated from the bruised lips--still lovely and kissablyl soft. Lips, Constance's lips, noticeably lovely shaped, sent to her brain tiny pains throbbing within them, quivered as she tried to convince herself she was fine. A tear forced itself from her bruised eye as she let a quick sob escape, a betrayal of her cherished perspective. Her cherished lie.
“I am fine," exploded the whispered-yell from her tiny throbbing-pained lips. "Roman did not mean to do this. I provoked him. He said he was sorry. I AM fine!”
Trying to convince herself that she was okay with the damage the love of her life did to her eye slowly worked. The more she repeated to herself that it was her fault that everything happened the way it did between Roman and her, the more she believed it.
Married four months prior, Roman and Constance pledged to love each other forever. Having covenanted to be for each other a source of guiding love, friendship, and support, Roman pushed her on the wedding night--claiming it was him engaging in intense husband/wife-play, to "get in the mood" to consummate. But that was not what it felt like to her.
She convinced herself that sort of behavior was normal. Both of them saved themselves for the wedding night to engage in matrimonial knowing in the biblical sense. Constance gave herself to Roman in chastity.
Two months after that, Roman grabbed Constance, vice-gripped, by the arm causing it to turn blue and purple before he released her!
“No,” she demands of herself sternly. “No, I will not fall apart at the first hint of trouble. All marriages have ups and downs.” A push, an uncomfortably awkward wedding night, a bruised arm, and finally, a split lip and swollen eye...
Denying what her reptilian brain told her, her higher reasoning helped her see Roman's charming side. Love for him, the tender him, gobbled her confidence up ever since he pushed her with that look in his eyes as he did so, calling it foreplay.
“What have I let myself into,” she sobs out again finally not able to keep reason at bay. Roman punched her in the eye because she caught him doing Ecstasy again. She called him a crack-head. It was not the right description of his addition, but it angered him nonetheless.
Constance became angry when it first happened, the punching, and planned to have him taken to jail, but she did not. It was ironic that this incident was on Thanksgiving, trying to gobble up her happiness.
“I fell. That’s what I will say. Why wouldn’t they believe me, I don’t lie!”
I know he really meant it this time when he says he isn’t going to do it again, she thinks.
As she walks out of the door, she sees someone lying on the floor turning pale. It’s... her! Roman is crying.
“Wait,” Constance says to herself. “We can fix this….”
Be grateful enough for life to walk away when the love does not match the actions. If it hurts physically to love a spouse, it is not "love" he or she is giving.
Farmers feed the turkey to fatten them up for Thanksgiving. Abusive spouses do the same thing as the farmers but to their spouses.
Turkeys end up served for Thanksgiving dinner.
© 2016 Rodric Anthony