Nola: A Memoir of Faith, Art, and Madness

The Woman Who Was Absent

The Woman Who Was Absent A short storyby Elaine Gottlieb In the Density ofDream where she was someone else ifnot more intensely herself, where she danced with or was embraced by a man known in the dream but unknown in her fitful widow's life, where she went into a strange house, trying to obtain the secret of the woman who was absent, where, frightened, she rode a horse bareback , Stella woke, full ofcuriosity and longing, and answered the phone. It was someone inviting her to dinner, another widow with two sons, asking her to come with Nancy and Mack, assuming Nancy was well enough. Stella said yes without thinking and went back to sleep, trying to reclaim the dream, as ifshe had to look deeply into the body ofmemory where mislaid passions were pursued and lost connections found. She could hear the TV vibrating through the floor, voices without words, and she knew Mack was down there, his hand in a box of dry cereal, probably sipping a Coke, not even watching TV but needing it on, occasionally glancing that way, raising his head from a comic book or his stamp collection. On the main highway outside her house cars rushed toward the northern or southern parts of the state; the rumble of freight trains, the whistle and roar ofjets, the street-shaking trucks often distracted and woke her, roused her from nightmares that flowed into her daughter's nightmares, familiar as if they were her own. Then there was the TV and the rock records her son played. She had tried to withdraw. It seemed to her that there was a time when withdrawal was possible. Nancy had always known how to do it, meditating , playing classical records, locking herself in her room, or simply walking elsewhere. I must get up, Stella told herself-there are things to do-there was some formula she hadn't hit upon, something Nancy would respond to. What would interest her? Last night Nancy hadn't wanted to go to sleep, and sitting at the edge ofher daughter's bed, Stella had to listen to: Where am I going? What will become ofme? Nola 259 Something terrible is about to happen. The world will endviolendy. Acataclysm ... Then the incoherent syllables, the "voice" distorting words. Stella, growing tired, had soothed the girl and tried to get her to sleep, but her closed eyes meant litde; she awoke and stared about with terror and grabbed Stella's arm each time she tried to leave. Don't go away ... I'll kill myself... Finally, next to the girl, Stella lay down to rest, until she could creep guiltily into her own bed, next door. Looking out the window Stella thought ofall the average families in the world, envied her own family a few years ago, when she might have awakened and exclaimed: What a lovely fall day! It seemed to be a mild sunny day. Through the window she saw a pale blue sky segmented by the leafless maple. A cumulus cloud hung among its branches and sunlight sifted through a trail of mist. Surely the rain that had been predicted could not come; summer would continue to collect around the town. After dinner last night she had gone out briefly to find the full moon enchanting the wasted garden; the air was almost warm and she had thought of how such a night might have suggested magic and miracles to her husband and herselfa few years ago. But Nancy's mind last night was like the full moon, illuminating specters that swelled in her phosphorescent vision. Stella listened to sounds from her daughter's room. There was not even a tossing now, though often she had been wakened by the frenzied grinding ofsprings beneath her daughter's body. Birds seemed to be flocking past the window, but then Stella saw that they were brown leaves spinning in the wind. There was a song about a bird that Nancy liked to sing. It was a sad song and when Nancy sang it her perfecdy pitched soprano seemed to carry the bird higher before it fell than the words actually intended. Stellaalmost did not know why she liked the song so much except that it meant not only Nancy to her but Icarus perhaps. Stella opened her daughter's door carefully. Ever since Nancy's attempt at poisoning herselfa few months before, Stella had found it necessary to spy on her daughter, to fear prolonged silences...