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May 21, 1960 3
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Mary Jane Adams was a perfectionist. Her elegant cottage-styled house was beautiful, with its bright cream-colored walls and the tall oaks that encased it. Her garden was trimmed till there was not a weed in sight; every flower dazzling from in between the clean, fresh leaves. The water in her birdbath was crystal-clear like gleaming glass, and the only birds that came were twittering sparrows and the sweetest of robins. She too, was absolutely perfect: a curvaceous figure, a good-natured though strict face, common brown eyes and yellow hair, tied up in a bun, her clothes full and tidy. Mary was a true Catholic, so true infact that at age seven she had convinced her parents to change her name from Margaret to Mary - in honor of Mother Mary of course. 5
Yes, Mary Jane Adams was a perfectionist - except one little problem. She had an imperfection. 6
Her own. Her dearest. Her husband. 7
Thomas Adams was a peculiar man: soft spoken and shy and somehow always stressed. Mary had made it clear quite early in their marriage that she, not Thomas, was in charge and Thomas had not once disagreed. Despite his obedience, or perhaps because of his obedience, Mary was highly suspicious of her husband. Thomas was a store clerk who worked from nine to five - and came home at twelve, mumbling this or that excuse. 8
After nine years of this drama, Mary finally heard herself crack one night. She locked him out of their bedroom and even locked the refrigerator so he could have no food. When she woke up in the morning, he was gone. 9
So Mary decided there was only one thing left to do. 10
Follow him.11
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Mary saw her ten-year-old son, Peter, out to school and borrowed the neighbour's broken down car. At about four, she left the house and drove to the market where Thomas worked. She parked a few blocks away, in the shadow of a large willow and waited, eyes scanning the surroundings. 16
At thirty past five, Thomas finally came out; pink-faced and sweating from a long day of work. Pitiful , thought Mary. He stopped to say something to a pedestrian and then started his car. Mary followed quietly, keeping a good distance.17
He drove to the outskirts of the town, where he stopped at a small bar. Mary clicked with disapproval. This is what I married? Some big-bellied drinker. 18
She stayed there for hours, impatient but unwilling to go back. Peter must have long come home, but she had already put out dinner and some snacks. Mary had a weed to root out. 19
It was only at about seven, when dusk had begin burdening the horizon, splashing its dark hues onto the sky that Thomas finally came out and on his arms another ... man? A young jock, with muscled arms beneath a tight, stretched shirt and black pants. Mary eyed them warily as they made their way to his car, clinging onto each other, laughing mildly. Her blood prickled.20
The devil damn him! The devil damn him! 21
She saw them get into the car. Saw them embrace inside. Saw their shadows kiss in the dim light. 22
God has forsaken my man , she realized. I have a sinner in my house. A sinner contaminating my perfect house. 23
Then and there, Mary decided to do what any sane woman would do. 24
She decided to plot her husband an eloquent murder. 25
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The next Sunday, Mary made some peanut butter sandwiches, some chicken sandwiches and her very favorite: ham and cream. She took out a lovely little basket and packed all the food inside, taking some cookies, fresh carrot juice and some home-baked chocolate muffins. Thomas serviced the car outside. She could hear the water splashing over the surface. Mary had convinced him to go on a hiking trip for the day. They would be driving up to Lushfall Hills, some miles away from the town and trek up the mountain, a very un-womanly activity for Mary, but she needed to be far away from the town. 30
Peter pouted and peered into the basket on the kitchen counter. 31
"Why can't I go?"32
"Because Mama and Papa want to get some time away."33
"I want to go to; I can run fast enough." 34
"No you can't. You are bad at baseball too, remember? You won't be able to keep up."35
"That's because I don't like baseball."36
"Oh, stop it Peter."37
"What will I do?"38
"We'll drop you off at Mrs.Miller's space."39
His big, blue eyes lit up. "I can play with Lizzy."40
Mary felt her Bible hand twitch. Lizzy, what a terrible name . If it was her daughter, she would have a perfect name, like Elizabeth. 41
"Absolutely not! You will not be playing with her and her - her dolls! They're the devil's toys, you know."42
Peter mumbled unhappily. Mary stuck her head outside the window and shouted :"Thomas! Is the car ready, honey?"43
"Yes, Mary."44
"Well, go get changed at once, it's almost 7 O' Clock!"45
She turned to Peter. 46
"Go put on something more dressy. That black pant will do and the green shirt. Oh, and you can put on that khaki hat you like so much!" Mary specifically chose each and every one of his garments. It was, of course, what every good mother should do. Decisions were never for children to make. 47
"Fine." Peter grumpily ran up to his rooms. 48
In an hour, all was ready and everyone was outside. Mary locked the door, walked Peter to the neighbour's house and then, she and Thomas drove off. . Mary gazed at her surrounding. It was a very peaceful neighbourhood, and very Catholic too. All her friends were good Christians. The gardens were fresh and flowery, with trimmed hedges and tall elms and oaks. The distant hills looked foggy in the distance. 49
Two hours whizzed by with the mundane grey rode in front of them. Thomas spoke little. Mary even less so. 50
Finally they came at the foot of the hills, where a small resort had been constructed. They bought some supplies. Bottles of water and a bag with essential hiking gear. Then they began the long walk. The hills loomed over them, a monument of rock and greenery. It was a lovely summer day, so they saw many a hiker walking past, diverse faces bright and smiling or red and out of breath. 51
"Ah, this is nice, dear," said Thomas, putting on his hat, yellow hair flying in the wind. 52
"Yes, we should do this more often." 53
"Oh yeah, of course."54
"About that night -"55
"I thought you didn't want to talk about it."56
"Yes, I know, but now I do want to talk about it."57
"Well, fine, if you want to."58
"I'm sorry -"59
"Excuse me?"60
"What?"61
"What did you say?"62
"I'm sorry."63
"Oh -"64
"I'm sorry I locked you out. It was not right of me. I am a good wife. A God-loving wife and I am obedient to you."65
Thomas looked at her oddly. 66
"I - uh - thank you, dear."67
The rest of the walk was pretty much uneventful. Often, Thomas exclaimed in a high voice, pointing to this plant or that. They walked for three hours and then sat down a little; Thomas was huffing and puffing. Like a fat piglet in a leg race , thought Mary cruelly. 68
"I - I think we should turn back, or - or let's have lunch." 69
"No Tom, I want to go higher."70
"People don't even come this high, Mary."71
"Just a few steps!" 72
Thomas puffed along with her quick, snappy steps. An hour later, he was absolutely dried out. But Mary, too, was satisfied. She did not know where she was getting this energy from, but something was fuelling her every move. She felt it fill her blood, heighten her senses, make her aware of her surroundings. 73
Mary took out a checked table cloth and laid it on a flat piece of grass on a sharp cliff that stuck outwards, overlooking the valley. She could see Lushfalls town, nestled within the trees. It was a stunning sight. The sky was blue and white, the sun high in the air and nothing could mar such a perfect day. 74
They ate for a while and Thomas recuperated his strength. 75
"Thomas, is there something you have to tell me?" 76
Thomas blinked. "I don't think so, honey."77
"Are you sure?"78
"Uh - yes, yes I am sure."79
Mary clicked her tongue. A body language Thomas saw as an approaching lecture. 80
"I followed you, Thomas."81
"Excuse me?"82
"I - I followed you. The morning of the night when I locked you out. I followed you -"83
"And?"84
"And I saw you! I saw you with that man!"85
Thomas reddened considerably. His eyes moved here and there. 86
"Say something, Tom! For the sake of Jesus, say something!" Mary yelled. She could feel the sting in her eyes. She wanted to cry. She could not however. Mary had never cried, not even as a child. She hated tears. No. She would not allow herself to cry. 87
"Please - please, Mary, forgive me -"88
"Forgiveness! Thomas you stupid fool! You're a half of a man! 89
"I am so, so sorry, honey," Thomas said, his cheeks stained with tears by now. He seemed to have been shocked by a sudden reality. The weight of his sins is overbearing. His whole body racked with sobs. "Forgive me, Mary Jane, forgive me - oh God! Forgive me, please forgive! I - I never meant for this to happen -"90
"You have to believe me, please," said Thomas. 91
"No, I will not believe you." 92
"Please, please Mary -"93
"You are a sinner! You have been damned Thomas! Damned! God will not have you!"94
Her words seemed to break him. He lay on the ground and shook with tears. A grown man crying. A grown man pleading. 95
"You are a sinner! And I will not have you!" 96
"Oh god! Please, Mary, please ..."97
Mary knelt down and took his hands. She felt ashamed of this. Ashamed of her husband's betrayal. 98
He is an abomination. 99
She led him to the edge of the cliff. He followed, blinded by white tears. 100
She turned him to face her. Took one last pitiless glance into his face. 101
And pushed the grief-ridden man off the cliff. 102
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Saturday, 28 June 1969 107
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Nearly ten years since the fateful day when 'good old Mary's' husband had fallen from the hills to his untimely death, Lushfall was a changed town. The youngsters had grown. The political winds were shifting. Things are changing , thought Mary Jane Adams. She was as perfect as ever: hair tied up, blouse clean and tidy as can be, face washed and scrubbed till it beamed. 109
Ting . A sharp, melodic sound rang through the kitchen. Mary opened the oven door and took out a lovely strawberry pie. 110
Peter was sitting in front of the television, a device Mary had been forced to buy out of peer pressure. He was so much different now. His shaggy blonde hair hung low in the most un-Catholic of ways and he wore shorts and half-sleeved shirts, no longer donning the manly dress shirts Mary bought for him. 111
But she loved him. Thomas had been a bigger loss than she had ever thought he would be. Every morning she woke up to an empty bed and realized she was a widow. Every day the house seemed like a forlorn, haunted old cottage. The walls seemed dreary and the garden has lost its luster. 112
I'm getting old. 113
The television blared. A news reporter spoke in an excited, breathless voice. 114
"After today's police raid on Stonewall Inn - a bar infamous for catering for young effeminate men, transgender and homeless youths, a large number of homosexual activists have risen. This is the first of a riot in protest of protecting the rights of the homosexual population -"115
Mary unplugged the television, mortified. She could not believe what she was hearing. Protection for the sinner! What had the world come to! They should be rooted out. 116
"I was watching that," said Peter, disgruntled. 117
"You will not be watching something - something like that!" 118
"Like what exactly, Mother!"119
"About, about those people -"120
"Gays! About gays! Jesus, mom -"121
"Yes, about them! They are never to be trusted, boy! I know! I am your Mother!"122
"Why not! They're humans too!"123
"Because God says so!"124
"He does not -" began Peter.125
"He does so," said Mary. "I have read the Bible a thousand times! I know what I know! It is a sin! The greatest of sins!"126
"What if someone you knew was gay!"127
"Then I swear they be damned to hell!" Mary spat. 128
Peter looked at her, eyes swimming with tears. 129
"Mom, I'm -"130
Mary shrieked. "Don't say it! You are not! You are not!"131
"I - I am ..." 132
Mary looked at her son. Her very own son. She could not believe her ears. 133
"Don't you see, Peter. The devil has you in his grasp!"134
"Listen to yourself! Why? Why are you so afraid, Mom!"135
Mary blinked. 136
"Because I do not want Jesus to hate my son."137
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Mary sat in a chair by her window, overlooking the yard. Beneath her, she could hear a racket. Doors slamming. Drawer jerking. He was packing. She watched the perfect lawn, with its perfect birdbath and its perfectly cut grass, trying to draw some happiness from the little perfect things in her life. 142
She had never cried. Not at Thomas. Not at her Mother's funeral. Not at her Father's stroke. 143
Nor was she to cry now. 144
Bang . The front door slammed shut. 145
She could see him now, suitcase in hand, dragging it across the lawn. She watched him with a stony face.146
She watched him walk out of the front yard and into the car. 147
Watched him start the engine which roared to life. 148
Watched him drive away. 149
So, Mary Jane Adams got up, crept into the blankets of her bed and she wept. 150
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Adding your comment:
} house and then,{get rid of the comma} she and Thomas drove off. .{get rid of the extra period} Mary gazed at her surrounding (surroundings). 
