KarMel Scholarship 2007

“The Lamb”

By Abigail Southworth

Desciption of Submission: The story of a woman returning to see her previous partner one last time, reflecting on how she got where she is now. A short story told in narrative form, meant to be poetic and suspenseful, with a surprise ending.

The sun-beaten road stretched its long legs before me, the smell of tar on my lips as I passed the line of orange cones. It shone a warm yellow off the speckled lawns and bounced off the slats of the menagerie of small businesses, a woman in wrinkled shorts and a white tank top sweating to the beat of her Walkman as her dog dragged her along the sidewalk. The warmth seeped through my windshield onto my dashboard, radiating up toward my eyes and making me squint. My window was rolled enough for a cool breeze, barely taking off the edge from the scorching heat, and not nearly enough to give my sweating armpits a break.

I flicked on the turn signal, arms wrenching the wheel to the right as my foot pushed harder on the pedals, and I held onto my turn as I made my way around the entrance loop, the 360 making my head spin. I looked behind me at what had just been to my front, and checking my blind spot, merged onto the highway.

The car was on the verge of the dump, shaking hard enough that I felt like there was nothing between the road and me, my feet landing on the harsh concrete and heart bursting with air as I accelerated into the new speed limit.

I blinked as the horizon dissolved into pools ahead of me, heat baking the sullen highway. It was hotter out in the open, and I cursed my lack of ac. My dry cleaned shirt was wet with sweat already, and checking in the mirror I could see my mascara circling my eyes. I wondered why I even attempted to look presentable-, as it was I looked less presentable than when I didn’t try at all. I tried to tell myself I wouldn’t be the only one a wreck, but remembered the well-to-do crowd she surrounded herself in and gave up.

I had to wonder why I was even coming. When the invitation found it’s way- torn, mind you- into my mailbox I could barely hold it in my grasp. The name was so familiar as to be foreign, and I wondered if that was how it had always been spelled. It had been sweltering then too, though decked in a sleeveless and shorts I was better adjusted to the shock. In my pressed shirt and pants I was crawling out of my skin.

I used to feel right like this, hair done up, face painted and clothes immaculate. I graduated in the top of my class-though not the top- and met life with all the vigor of someone who could take on the world. I was up-and-coming, a rising-star, making my own way. That’s how we met.

We met, painted and polished in a sterile office, waiting in line to interview for the same job. By fate we sat next to each other, separated only by a small coffee table covered with last month’s magazines. I fiddled nervously with my periwinkle tie, smoothing my suit skirt down as I switched positions, hoping the next would be more comfortable. Looking towards the door where the last woman had gone in, I met her eyes and never left.

She got the job, though it hadn’t mattered. We met for coffee with some friends- hers, of course- and I sat in quiet wonder as she smiled at this or that, head titled to the side as she listened to stories of who did what.

I’d always wondered to my friends why she asked me, of all people, out on a date- though the truth of it was it was me who asked her, though she never minded me boasting the opposite, even after we’d separated. I’d stood there shaking, the words lodging in my throat before she put me out of my misery and said yes, though to the entire world she was the one interested in me, and only me.

We moved in a summer later, encased in each other and created a life for ourselves, strung up in porch lights and quiet evenings. It lasted forever, as it seems today, another life in itself, and what I am today is only a reincarnation of lesser proportions.

I was reborn sometime in April- this I only remember from the rain. It was always changing from warm to cold, and I remembered that each time I left I hoped it would pity me and keep me warm. It was those days I hated the most, the cold rain pelting on my bare arms.

When the storm ended, I was left in a hotel, charging room service onto her credit card. She offered to pay for my hotel too, help me get back on me feet. My pride bristled, and I sufficed with charging her for HBO I never watched, and food I never liked.

I fell farther than I would ever have imagined.

Sometimes I imagine her a succubus, draining all that I had, all my talent and achievements weighing heavy in her gut. I wanted to think I hadn’t lost myself. The more I fooled myself, the less I bothered.

She rose higher, and I lingered in the depths.

It was surprisingly hard to care about a job I’d had for ten years. It had always been an in between- that had become what all else fell in between. I couldn’t help but think I’d been cheated into it, though besides my pride there was nothing to gripe about- and even that had its days. Being a secretary had been my first job choice for a first job, not the last.

My hair tickled my neck in the wind, reaching before my eyes- trying to make me go off-road, I imagined. Sometimes I wanted to let it.

I turned my signal back on, merging to the right and making my way onto the exit. This turn was less jarring, a cool breeze taking away from the heat. I felt myself shiver, reaching down to roll up my window a little.

Clouds cast shadows across the road, grass bowing as a gust brushed their tips. My eyes, sore from squinting, closed as my hair took to scratching at them. I grudgingly reached down to fully close my window, grasping the wheel hard in one hand, arm and shoulder cranking the knob.

I reached next to me for the tattered invitation, worn from being opened, closed, then reopened again. My clammy hands dampened the wilted sheet, pulling it in front of my face to get a clear view with the fading ink.

Placing it back on the seat, I watched the street signs pass me, hoping I wouldn’t miss my turn. This area was unfamiliar to me, despite being only a few minutes away from where we used to live- where her newest girlfriend moved in after I left.

They were perfect for each other, or so I heard. I couldn’t swallow anything involving her being perfect.

I practically jumped as I found the street, slowly merged to my right- forgetting to check my blind spot- then turned onto the tree-lined street. White birch, clawing at the skies, were perched next to each driveway, a cult along suburbia. As I crawled along the concrete, their gazes fell on my humble car, raining leaves along the peeling paint.

My tire fell into a pothole, the beat reverberating through my bones like a drum, my resolve failing as the sun peeked through the clouds and leaves to illuminate the road behind me.

I had always been the one to say goodbye. She had never let me leave- my heart floating in front of her chest as my body walked away. My eyes were empty, my mouth dry as I dissolved into dust along her shadow. My heart followed her as she became one with another, cracking as the years went by. It was hollow and blackened, rooted to her throat as she always bid me ‘hello,’ despite our history, our falling out, and her love for another.

I abandoned my heart in her care- and it was time to take it back.

Seeing the sign, I slowly turned onto the narrow concrete, car titling as I missed it at first, creaking as I centered it. The wind whistled through the grass and stone, blanketing it with dandelion seeds and dust.

I leaned down to open my window, the air circulating through immediately. The smell of freshly cut grass and flowers so strong I could taste it. I inhaled with the gusts, letting it fill and calm me. In the distance I could see the white tent, the wind threatening to pull it from its posts. Beneath the white canvas, I could see the lambs huddled together, ready for slaughter. They looked lost, no one understanding what was to be done. As I drew closer, I could feel the same confusion take me over.

The road widened- a great maw welcoming me into its throat. I held my lip in my teeth as I accelerated up the twisted hill, hands gripping the wheel for comfort. I closed my eyes for a second that lasted days, before slowing down as I finally made it to my destination.

I parked behind a black Sudan, pushing the wrinkles out of my skirt before hauling myself out of my car. I tripped on the concrete on the first step, my legs cramped from sitting and unused to the high heels I was standing in. Even my feet felt out of place.

Walking through the wet grass- and doing my best to avoid holes, I focused on a spot of red ahead- refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

She was surrounded by roses, lilies, pansies, and orchids, all eyes worshipping who she was. Rain fell on everyone’s cheeks, flooding the ground around the polished wood, the deep red growing from the muddled green of the grass, and the dirt below. It all moved in the wind, coming together to be an unsettling sight.

She was still for the first time since we’d met. She’d always been in motion, swaying, arms baking in the sun and glowing in the rain. Now she lay still in her quiet cocoon, hanging from the mouths of the mourning lambs surrounding her.

I walked up nearer, arms pushing the bodies away as I pulled myself closer to her. I met her closed eyes through the cold wood, telling her without words what I could never have said when I was alive.

My head thrummed with the pulsing of my lungs, my eyes rolling behind my lids to stop the tears from falling of their own accord.

There was my heart, roots twisted around her perfect fingers, held tightly to her chest to be buried with her.

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