Ghosts From the Past

GHOSTS FROM THE PAST1

Is it you who is depressed or the person you are pretending to be?2

*3

She bit her lip nervously, her fingers trembling. Her mother had told her that suicide was sin, an act of cowardice. She thought about the irony of it all-after those twenty-five years of abuse, an eternity spent being tortured in purgatory. But there are times, when you get two choices, and you know that they are not both bad, one is bad and the other is worse. It’s bad enough having a tortured after-life, but worse having a tortured life, knowing that you chose the wrong path. Lucy knew that this was for the best. She took the pills, and popped them in her mouth. She had been warned of a bitter-after taste, but they slid down like butter, burning her throat. She did not feel any discomfort, so she simply sat down on the sofa, and switched on the TV. Three hours later, he would come, and three hours later, he would find her lying dead on the floor.4

*
Forty years earlier 5


Lucy was standing alone and forlorn. Walter would be leaving for University of Pennsylvania that week and it would be the end. She tried to picture a life without Walter, but all she got was a bleak, empty canvas. She tried to imagine another boy taking her out on dates, on long drives, to parties, but she only got Walter’s angelic face, tanned, and framed by copper-colored curls, and his brown eyes, like the old oak tree in her garden. She looked around, and was pleased to notice that she wasn’t the only one suffering. Depressed students milled around her, unable to believe that they had finally graduated.
“Lucy!” Walter ran and wrapped his arms around her. “Guess what I’ve got for ya!”
Lucy turned to him, her face dark and sullen. It immediately lit up when her eyes spotted the diamond ring Walter was holding. He grinned, his curls bouncing off his shoulders. “Guess who’s going to be coming to Pennsylvania with me?”
“Oh Walter!” she cried, and immediately threw her arms around him. She gently removed them, and then frowned at him. “But I was accepted to another university! I can’t come with you!”
Walter rolled his eyes. “C’mon Lucy. Why do you need to study? Just be my wife, and take care of my home! You don’t need university at all. I’ll support you, okay?”
Lucy bit her lip, about to say no, but then thought about her future. She had always wanted to be a vet. But was being a vet, a mere woman who took care of animals, better than being Walter’s wife? She grinned, and embraced him again, trying hard not to burst into tears. 6

*
She glanced at the clock, her teeth gritting together. Would the three hours ever end? She glanced around herself. “Might as well as give him a clean house when he comes,” she thought. She started straightening the pillows, and dusting the T. V. and the sofa. A teddy bear laid there, one of the buttons that were his eyes ripped out. A broken thread hung over there instead. She held the bear close to her heart, wishing that somehow it would come alive and become a baby, a living, crying, and human baby. But even though she always lamented to outsiders that she could never have children, she was secretly pleased that she was barren. It was one of those subconscious emotions of the mind, the type that we are constantly in self-denial about. And even as her hands flew about, and her eyebrows knitted together in intense concentration, her mind was taking a trip down the memory lane.7

*8

Thirty years earlier. 9

The couple sat in the office, wishing that they could just get a magic wand, and make their wishes come true. Walter desperately wanted a baby and they had tried endlessly. But Lucy just never got pregnant. They already knew the truth, it was a scandalous secret that neighbors whispered in each other’s ears, but somehow, it made it better to go to a doctor. Medical science was making new discoveries; there was IVF, and so many other tiddly winks of scientists that people struggled to understand. They nervously anticipated the doctor, hoping, that she would smile at them and tell them what they wanted to hear.10

Life didn’t work like that.11

The doctor did make an attempt to grin at them. But they could see, from her posture, her folded hands, her downcast eyes, that there was no good news. It secretly broke Lucy’s heart the way the doctor blandly told them the awful truth, as though it was something that happened every day. But then her mind reminded her, that for the doctor, it probably did happen every day. Lucy wondered about the thousands of women in the world that were too cursed the way she was. What were they thinking?12

“You could always try for surrogate motherhood,” the doctor suggested hesitantly. Walter nodded his head in grim approval. Lucy simply looked at the floor, wanting to pout and say, “But I want my own children!” But she was a mature adult, not a child. She walked out of the doctor’s office, her head held high. Walter followed her angrily.13

“There are so many possibilities, you can adopt a child, get a surrogate child, and get anything! But no, you just want your baby. It’s only you whom you’re thinking about. What about me?” “It’s not like that,” she said wearily. “What do you mean, it’s not like that?” he asked, his cheeks flushed. “Just leave me alone,” she moaned. “Leave you alone, huh?” He slapped her across the cheeks, leaving the imprint of five fingers. “I will leave!” he screamed, walking away.14

That night, she hugged herself, crying. The door banged open, and Walter walked in drunk and collapsed on the sofa. “It’s just a rock. A rock in our relationship. Just throw the rock away,” she assured herself, failing to see that the incident was just a grim reminder of the future.15

*
One hour had passed. Two hours were still remaining. She went to the black piano in their bedroom. She had recently polished it, and it shone, like the coat of a panther. She sat down on the stool opposite, and spun around, laughing, her hair flying. She laid her fingers carefully on the keys, and pressed them. New sounds, familiar sounds, sounds that seemed to be connected to her soul-all reverberated throughout the room. She closed her eyes, trying not to wince in pain as her calloused fingers pressed the keys. The sounds penetrated her mind, the same mind she had taken so much pain to hide from the rest of the world. They opened her box of memories like a pirate opening a treasure chest, and they flew in all directions like birds that had been freed, zipping around, converting the room into a scene from the past.16

*17

Twenty years earlier 18

Lucy played the piano happily. Her son Christian nodded his head along with her. He was adopted, but she had grown to love him like he was her own son, her own flesh and blood. She glanced at the clock every now and then. Walter had yet to come home, but she was hoping he would be in a good mood. He had been expecting a promotion, so she had made a special feast for him, his favorite cream of spinach soup, vegetable lasagna, and brownies. The doorbell rang, jerking her out of her anxiety. She opened the door, but her face fell. Walter came in, drunk as usual, and headed towards his wine cabinet. He was about to set it down on the table, when he noticed the feast. He shoved the food, clearing the table, madly roaring, “They made me redundant! Me! They won’t find someone like me ever!” Lucy watched, crying as her feast became a mess. The soup had spilt out on the floor, the brownies had been reduced to crumbs, and only half of the lasagna was intact. Christian peeked, trembling. Lucy ushered him out of the house, asking him to go to the neighbor’s house for dinner.
“You drive me away from my son, huh? You think you’re smart huh?” he roared, lunging for her. “No I’m not smart!” she shrieked tearfully as he pulled at her hair. “Leave me! Leave me!” He swung her on the floor, and she hit the sofa, her face loudly smacking into the soft covers. He then marched into their room, and swung the door shut. At that moment Lucy realized that though she was too attached to Walter to leave him, she couldn’t let Christian suffer the same fate .19

*20

She looked up at the clock. Only ten minutes, and he would come home. She fidgeted around restlessly. By now, she should have at least lost her sense of vision. “The pills aren’t working,” she thought to herself. She went to the bottle again, and shook it. No pills came out. She sighed, and slumped on the floor, tired. This was her last chance. What was she to do? He did not let her out of the house anymore. Where would she get the pills again? She was too exhausted to bear another round of abuse that night. She grabbed one of the scarves hanging in her closet. She would have to strangle herself. She had wanted a painless death, but if she was to escape from a few years of pain, she must bear a few seconds, she thought. She wrapped it tightly around her neck, and pulled. Only one minute left. She pulled harder, tears springing to her eyes. She wrapped another scarf around her neck, and pulled. She slowly started suffocating as the air to her windpipe was cut off.21

Suddenly, the door barged open, and a tall, well-defined man strode in. He grabbed her and loosened the scarf. “Help!” she screeched, clawing at the man’s throat. “Let me die! I want to die! Give that scarf back to me! It belongs to me! It is my property!” She snarled like a vicious cat, her voice dry and raspy, as the man, still gripping her tightly, dialed the phone.22

“Hello? Dr. Ronald? Please send an ambulance. This is Walter’s caretaker Duncan. He’s having another one of his episodes. The poor fellow’s pretending to be like Lucy again! Yes, he tried to enact her death! Yes, yes, please send it as fast as you can!” Walter struggled for a few seconds, and then collapsed, his eyes closing. The pills must have taken effect…23

*24

Ten years earlier 25

Walter came home, ranting and raving. “Lucy!” he called out. “Where are you? Where’s the dinner! You are going to have it from me tonight!”
He stepped into the hall. The T. V. was switched on. “Little bunny,” he muttered to himself. “Seems to think electricity comes for free.” He stumbled into the bedroom. The stool was still twirling round and round. Lucy was lying on the bed, her eyes closed, a scarf wrapped around her neck. “Lucy!” he screamed, and shook her. She did not answer. He tried to open her eyelids, but they closed again. He sat down on the stool, still in shock. He didn’t know what to do.
Sighing, he went and sat in front of the mirror. A lipstick was lying on the dressing table. He picked it up, and carefully applied it on his lips. He looked good in lipstick. “Walter will be pleased tonight,” he thought.26

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