| Kate didn't think anymore about it that day, and since he wasn't home and his car was gone when she returned to their house, she knew he must have gone on to work. She rested for a while - it was getting late in her pregnancy by that time - then decided to straighten the patio a little in preparation for guests they were having on the weekend. It was there, late in the afternoon, while she was sweeping the patio that he suddenly appeared, staring out at her through the screen door to the house. She was very startled to look up and see him, and then to see how angry he was as he opened the door to stand on the stoop. At first, she thought something very bad had happened at work. But he launched immediately into a tirade about the embarrassing scene of the morning pickets. He went on and on about the crassness and lack of respect of the TV people pointing their cameras especially at Kate because of her very prominent belly. She was relieved that it wasn't some awful thing at his company, and dismissed this concern for dignity with a small laugh, saying it wasn't that important, in fact she was pleased to have the baby on TV even before it was born, and after all, it was only what you would expect reporters to do for a human interest story. She turned slightly away from him to continue sweeping. But he must have been in a fit, because he leaped down the steps onto the patio, and she turned to see him flying toward her. She backed up with a start, tangling in a low metal deck chair, twisted a leg under her and fell to the yard beside the terrace. She must have rolled more than halfway down the slope before hitting a tree. When Kate told me how it felt, falling down the hill like that, she sat quietly across from me staring into space as she described it piece by piece, scene by scene, like a dream sequence. She struck the ground before realizing completely that she was falling, and then everything slowed, the grass was so close, dark green arrows pointing at her, pushing her along, she felt them against her face, smelled the earth at their roots. And the border of marigolds so vivid from this angle, waving as she passed by. Her turning seemed suspended and languid, and she knew the details, even the sky coming in intermittent blue. The easy quiet when she stopped moving. She didn't hear her husband's panicked shouts, or notice the oncoming skirl of pain. She did not wake from the dream, but lay there watching a small thatch of white feathers come apart directly in front of her eyes. They floated and settled like petals or flakes. |
