Make a Scene - Bonnie Smetts

That was sweet, real sweet, making love again here by the river like we’d done that very first time. That’s as close as we’re getting to some kind of anniversary. But ten minutes pass and Roy’s up and ignoring me.

“Honey, I want to leave. It’s cold and I’m bored sitting watching you fish.” The afternoon was coming to and end, and even the last fling of summer heat’s gone. I’m freezing and I only got my sweater.

“Shhhh. It’s the best time for biting.” Roy’s got a cigarette dangling from his mouth, the sun’s shining through his line like he’s connected to god, and he’s walking slowing casting a shadow on the bank. I wish I didn’t feel like killing him or shaking him so he’d look at me the way he used to.

“Roy, I want to go.”

He turns and the sun’s making a halo around his face. “Rawling, would you just shut up. I invited you fishing and that’s what we’re doing. Fishing.” I’m stuck like somebody’s glued me to the blanket I’m sitting on. I’m so mad and I don’t see one way out of this mess I got myself in. How can something so nice be turning so bad. Like I got a big rock on me and some big boot is grinding it into my back.

Roy tosses his cigarette butt across the path. “OK, Rawling. You want to go. Let’s go. Next time I ask, just remember, fishing is fishing.” And I never thought that fishing was fishing. I thought fishing was about being with Roy. And now I didn’t like it.

Before I have time to shake out the blanket and pack up our basket, Roy’s slammed his gear in his box and he’s stomping up the path to his truck. Now I’m running after him. And I don’t like it.

“OK, happy, Rawling?” He starts the truck and backs up making more dust than a windy day. He looks at me and I don’t like the look. He’s speeding down the road, heading into the Nordeen.

“Let me out here.” I say when we get to town. I don’t know what’s got into me but I gotta get away from Roy.

“What are you gonna do, walk home?” he says. Well yes, I know I can walk from here.

He stops, looking straight ahead. I slide down from this giant truck, pulling my blanket with me. As soon as I touch the sidewalk, he speeds away.

I can’t imagine feeling worse standing on the sidewalk in the middle of Nordeen with the sun almost gone down. But then I see a sign. “Help Wanted. Afternoons.” And then I got an idea.