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"In the midst of responsibility..." We all have days where we've reached our limit. Mine ain't the same as yours, and yours ain't the same as mine. That's life. But how we handle that moment when our limit's been reached is what defines us. It's what we gotta look at when we close our eyes at night. But what if that moment makes it so you don't wanna close your eyes? -- -- -- It was long ago, but not that long ago that I can't remember it good enough. It was before we'd reconciled with our son, and a few years before our first grandson was born. My husband was out working the land. I'd had an awful day -- this was back when I still practiced palmistry, and I hadn't had a single customer all day. I even stayed open half an hour later, which I hated doing, on account of it made me late for the butcher, and I didn't like walking in the dark. Too many stones to trip on. My thoughts were on the coming winter, and how hard it was gonna be to keep ourselves afloat. Especially if the harvest was a bad one, like last year. We were in debt. And once you're in debt, it just takes over your mind. It had gotten dark real fast. When I crossed the butcher's threshold, my stomach sank a bit -- on account of the butcher not being there at all. Nobody was. I cursed under my breath, angry for working late when I knew in my bones that nobody was gonna come, and now I'd gone and missed the butcher. That meant we weren't gonna have no meat to eat tonight. It was another worry that I added to my pile. It was such a small thing, but it was the last thing I needed. And right then and there, I cried. We all reach that breaking point. I remember thinking, "At least nobody's here to see me." And that's when I heard the breathing. It was coming from down behind the butcher's counter. I covered my mouth, embarrassed, and moved to the counter to apologize. But when I got there and peered over -- thinking maybe that she'd been hurt, on account of her not standing up -- there weren't nobody there. It was surreal. My confusion turned to fear, though, when I didn't just hear the breathing again -- I felt it, too, on the back of my neck. I screamed and whipped around... but again, there weren't nobody there. The breathing turned into a laugh, but not a friendly one. It sounded like somebody was choking. It chilled me. Now the thing about instinct -- when you ain't thinking, when your will to survive takes over -- is that it will make you feel like you're another person. Or maybe you're just getting to meet your real self. Maybe it takes a crisis for the real you to appear. I looked down and saw my hand was now holding a knife. And it weren't there before. I musta grabbed it from the butcher's counter. It were real long. A carving knife. The laugh grew into a bellow. Whoever it belonged to were taunting me. I knew it was thinking that I was gonna be no match for it, on account of I couldn't see it. But it were a small shop. And I were still fast then. So I jabbed the air around me, fast. I'll tell you, the laughing stopped. A thick black ooze appeared in the air, like from a cut. It fell to the floor in gobs. I didn't wait to see what it'd do next. I ran, me and the knife... ... and in my other hand, I saw a leg of lamb. I must've grabbed it from the counter, too. That was a nice surprise. -- -- -- It's been years now, and that night still haunts me. I ain't even been back to that butcher's since. But I'm older now. And I don't wanna make no excuses for myself no more. I wanna make my grandons proud of me. My point in all this? There are things out there in the shadows, and I think they're waiting for us all to be so distracted, so worried, that they can get us when we ain't looking. When we've reached our limits. I wanna be like that person my instincts told me I was. I never told nobody about this before. It feels good to tell. -Francene | |