Eloquent Silence (14 page)

‘Conrad,’ she whispered cautiously then bit her lower lip hard, fighting against the anguish in her soul, knowing she had to open up sooner rather than later about her pregnancy. Her eyes overflowed and her throat closed as she wished to begin but did not know how.

She gave a long, shuddery sigh, willing herself to begin her story.

‘What is it, love?’ he asked politely, almost lovingly.

Two brown heads met on her pillow, her hair unfastened, spreading softly on the pillow beneath her head. Now’s as good a time as any to broach this subject, she thought. I’ll never get a better opportunity with the children gone for the day and him in a loving frame of mind. I’ll tell him during this space of a better mood.

She was silent for a minute, unable to begin, just quiet long enough for Conrad to think, What kind of trouble are you going to drop at my feet now, Useless?

Bracing herself mentally, she thought, Here goes! I hope all Hell doesn’t break loose now!

‘Conrad, I think I’m pregnant. Pretty sure I am. Another baby’s on the way,’ she murmured, then held her breath and counted the seconds of heavy silence.

The controversial topic dispelled the better mood as rapidly as anything Annie had ever seen. It was as if she had waved a magic wand, changing him again into the tyrant of the previous night. He scoffed in disbelief then began to be enraged, his pouted lips pursed in grim annoyance, the gleam in his eyes switching from affectionate to hostile in a wink. He set his teeth and his jowls at her. She quivered. Gooseflesh raised itself on her arms and back.

‘Christ, you’re a careless bitch! How did you get yourself pregnant?’ he snarled at her in an outraged voice through thinned, tightened lips, suddenly like two pieces of string. It was as though little fires had been lit behind his blazing eyes.

‘I had some help from you,’ she reminded him sadly with a miserable sigh. She rolled away from him, just to be on the safe side and grabbed her pillow in case she had to defend herself physically. She had the sensation that the rug had been pulled out from under her yet again.

Annie stood there shivering, feeling she had lost every shred of dignity, knowing if she ran she would be in trouble when he caught her and if she stayed put, she was a sitting target.

‘That’s all I bloody well need!’ he burst out in the rage which fed upon itself constantly, always ready to flare like a match to tinder.

The words burnt her flesh like a whiplash, causing her to realize he held her entirely responsible for every pregnancy they encountered.

Jerking himself up from the bed he stomped to the lounge room, driving his heels into the floor with full force.

‘You were using those bloody contraceptive things, weren’t you, at the dangerous times? What the doctor said was the most dangerous times? Bloody diaphragm or whatever you call it? Stinking cream?’ he roared from the other room.

He switched on the television, slouching on the brown woolen couch, aimlessly fiddling with the remote control.

‘Yes, you know I was. Obviously they didn’t work,’ she called to him. A sluggish pulse of fear began to throb in her ears. Floundering, she moved slowly, speculatively, trying not to make any sudden noise or raise any cause for alarm. In the midst of her nightmare, she drew a few clothes on.

Five minutes later he returned to the bedroom where Annie was still slowly making the bed, a distressed, beaten expression on her tired face. How can I think of myself as a worthwhile person when he treats me like a stupid drudge? she wondered.

He looked at her with unconcealed loathing and at the sight of her he bellowed,

‘Another kid.’ Hands on hips, eyes flaring, he told her, ‘You’re hopeless, Annie. Talk about a disorganized, idiotic moron. You really take the cake.’ Tension leaked from between his clenched teeth as he returned to the lounge room and hurled himself down on the sofa again. ‘It’s enough to make a man get on the sauce and wipe himself out,’ he spat towards the doorway. He preferred it if she never stood up for herself as a rule, but there were days when her subservience angered him beyond measure.

I need to change so that I can keep this boat afloat, she told herself. I, alone, need to change and then I can salvage the marriage when I have some dignity and self-esteem back. To Annie this was a rational assumption. Only later would she see the futility in the plan.

She went to the door to look at him, raising her eyes and looking directly at his rabid features. How to defy him and not topple over the edge into the abyss below?

‘I thought I might try to get an abortion,’ she said, her voice little more than a whisper. ‘Our marriage isn’t exactly wonderful and I have dreadfully difficult pregnancies.’

Her tone was conciliatory as she sought a way to pacify him. Feeling like a prize idiot, she waited to see if the suggestion met with his approval. That she felt humiliated, outraged and rejected was merely a by-product of all the years he had been training her to be his puppet.

‘Suit yourself,’ he stated roughly, his mouth drawn into a snarl, his eyes savage. ‘I don’t give a stuff what you do. Nothing to do with me except I have to foot every bloody bill that goes with it. Already slaving my guts out providing for what you’ve produced.’

He looked as if he had been pumped up by a bicycle pump and that another pump would do him in. He rose  and stomped off past her again to the kitchen. She heard his heels thumping across the floor and then the squeak of the kitchen chair as he threw himself down on it.

‘You had something to do with their production as well,’ she reminded him sadly.

She returned to the bedroom and continued to make the bed as though today were just an ordinary day like so many others she had experienced while living with him. Straightening the covers with shaking hands, she then painstakingly dressed again and rubbed ointment into her split lip, as if in afterthought.

Swallowing hard, she wondered why love must humiliate and make us feel like a guilty party just by simply existing and trying to make the best of each and every situation?

Time for lunch. He skulked through his meal as though she had affronted him by conceiving his child, chewing loudly, his face bloodless, his mouth lipless, his jaws chewing with mechanical precision and his mind miles away. The sight of him caught in her throat and she wished the earth could open up under her and swallow her whole. But no such luck.

So much was still left unsaid between them, so much undone in the cause of rescuing the marriage. Trying to make a little inane conversation with him, she rambled on for a while about the children. His face was closed, eyes blinkered.

With the pulse hammering in her head, she had to battle through the afternoon until it was time to collect the children then try to have a few pleasant hours being their mother. This was the only childhood they would have and she was determined to make it as happy as she could, all things being considered.

That night when they were in bed the talk went on ceaselessly in waves of self-pity, blame and condemnation from her husband. Annie simply had to put up with it except for when she had to run to the bathroom to throw up. He seemed to feel that hours of honest indignation would convince her to do the right thing, although he wasn’t going to incriminate himself by telling her what the right thing was.

By 2 a.m. she fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep while Conrad lay seething beside her for the rest of the night, eyes bulging in the gloom as he sought refuge in self-pity. The selfish bitch had switched off from his hyperbole and had sunk in a heavy, dreamless sleep.

We’ll see which way the wind blows in the morning, he thought to himself. I’m not going to let the bitch put anything over me.

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A
nnie commenced discreet enquiries amongst friends and acquaintances to find a way of lightening her burden and that of her children. Almost frozen with indecision, she found she was afraid of backyard operators, and sought to have this operation done legally by a qualified surgical practitioner if it was to be done at all.

More than anything else she did not want to die as a result of some unhygienic amateur hacking at her insides, killing her off as a result.  Her three precious children would be left to be reared by her turbo-charged, juggernaut of an unpredictable husband.

Already four weeks overdue with her menses, if it was to be done it must be done as soon as possible. She understood her body well enough to realize she would not see her period unless drastic action should be taken. She also knew herself well enough to know that before long she would become emotionally attached to the little new life inside her.

Conrad, in his usual uncongenial manner, continued to make her feel like a hopeless fool for being pregnant and a potential criminal for seeking a way to alleviate her overwhelming problems. And equally, for suggesting carrying the infant to full term. She felt bogged down and worthless, at her wit’s end to know what to do, but was categorically determined to make her own decision on the matter, if such a right could be allowed to her.

She was fully aware that whatever the result of her soul-searching and decision-making was, Conrad would seek to make a criminal out of her simply for his own satisfaction and to bring her down further.

Her profound unhappiness compounded as David had several very bad days when he lay in his bed wracked with a high fever and pains in his joints. He even slipped back into having similar hallucinations to his previous ones where huge spiders were crawling all over him and his bed. His screams of terror made the hair on Annie’s head creep and she wept for the little boy as he fought his way though another dreadful bout of illness.

She dragged herself through the days in a zombie-like trance. Some days she looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror late in the evening as she helped the girls through their bathing routine, and wondered whether she had combed her hair that day. She would then reach the conclusion that it didn’t really matter much anyway.

Ruth and Sarah, full of concern about their little brother and their careworn mother who always lost her breakfast each morning for reasons they didn’t quite understand, tried their best to help around the house. They did their best to be quiet, not to argue, and most of all, to stay close to their mother when their father was at home.

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F
inally, Annie conceded to herself, push had come to shove and she must decided which road to take, aware that any choice she made would carry her further towards her doom.

Annie’s parents, Saul and Miriam Abraham, who lived several blocks away, were sympathetic when the young woman confided in them, pouring out her fears and misery.

‘I tried to protect myself from getting pregnant again,’ she told the couple. ‘Obviously Conrad and I are very fertile. I don’t know how many children we will produce. It’s frightening. I simply don’t think I’m able to cope with another baby at present with David being still as sick as he is on and off.’

She felt a curious sense of loss at the thought that she had another child within her body and may have to deny it life.

‘Of course, only you can decide what’s best for you and the children, Annie,’ her mother told her as they sat in the pleasant, peaceful kitchen of Annie’s childhood years. ‘The ultimate decision is yours and you must do what you have to in the course of your own survival and in the best interests of your children. And that includes the psychological side of their lives as well.’

‘Yes, the psychological side. That’s quite an issue, Mum,’ the younger woman said thoughtfully. ‘Matters I’m not really sure I can explain well enough for anyone else to understand the implications of it all.’

Annie sat thinking for a while, a frown of concentration on her forehead, her brown hair  framing her pale face.

‘I have lived too long and come too far to let Conrad Himmlar drive me into the lunatic asylum or to committing suicide,’ she said softly. ‘I need to have a contingency plan in case things become completely overwhelming. I must be prepared. Can’t afford to be lackadaisical about this. Too much is at stake.’

Her parents said nothing, waiting for Annie to be either willing to confide as to what her intentions were or to keep her own counsel.

‘Did I ever tell you about one night last winter? A really cold night, it was. I’d put the dinner on to cook and went to have my bath. I told Ruth to turn the lamb chops over in a little while when they were ready. She was grown enough to do that. She was a mass of importance when Conrad came home, turning the chops over and over, having a bit of a show-off at how grown up she was, I suppose.

‘Well, there was I in the bath and as you know the shower nozzle is over the tub. So in he blew to the bathroom and turned the freezing cold water onto me as hard as it would go. Just for spite, cruelty. Because he’d flown into one of his rages and needed to have it out on me. All sorts of distortions of the truth come out of his mouth when he starts.’

‘I couldn’t believe it. Turned the ice cold water onto me full blast as I sat having my bath. Oh, yes, he was really enjoying his tantrum. Then he told me I was an unfit mother to be letting the child cook the dinner and that I was crazy because I’d screamed at him when he turned the freezing water onto me. He said he’d have me locked away in an asylum where I’d be out of his way. I’d never see my children again. Brought that old chestnut out for another airing, the nasty windbag.’

Annie paused in her soliloquy. Her parents waited silently, listening intently, giving her a supportive nod and smile. They stared at her without blinking, their gray heads together as they listened in awe to the doings of their son-in-law whom they already knew far too well for their liking.

‘I got old Mr. Jones from over the road to come and put a bolt on the bathroom door but Conrad just smashed it in the next night when the girls were having their bath. He liked to be around for that, as well. Always wants to be in the bathroom when they’re having their bath if he can. I try to be in there with them, too, you know, to watch. But that’s how come that door’s got a piece missing out of it. He bashed it in with his boot. There’s no privacy in that house, even in the bathroom.