Breaking Bones | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: Breaking Bones | Previous Challenge Entry
By Amy Stanbury
09/09/08
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
ADD TO MY FAVORITES

On the day she was hit by the backwards-driving car she’d been thinking of fat Agatha, the pregnant cat. Wayne had returned home early and was driving to meet some mates for a drink at the pub. Kathryn was at the end of their drive; paved in smooth concrete. There was a gravel border with large sharp boulders lined along the verge, where the garden grass grew in unmown tufts. She’d been daydreaming. She was remembering the face of a child from her work at daycare that morning. He’d been holding a doll, flinging it from side to side, it’s thinly stitched arm flip-flopping. Then the arm ripped off, at the socket. The look on his face was at first surprise and keen interest. Then, when he’d realized his flip-flopping game had finished he began to scream and was inconsolable. Kathryn had stared for some time at the disembodied arm on the floor, then she sat beside the boy, held his head and hugged his tiny frame. She stroked his hair and thought about Agatha, fat, pregnant Agatha; the neighbour’s cat.

Mrs Hargreaves, at number 24, owned the enormous orange cat. Thanks to her owner’s ignorant neglect and a curious nature, Agatha was terminally pregnant. “She’s up the duff again, silly madam, been hanging out after hours, ain’t you, silly old girl.” Labelled as“odd, Kathryn didn’t speak to Mrs Hargreaves but used to listen over the fence in the back garden as she whined and guffawed to her ancient husband. When she shouted down the phone to numerous nosey friends about the tedious tittle-tattle from the village, Kathryn would creep under the clematis and pretend to clip and prune.

Agatha was forever ferreting in Kathryn and Wayne’s bin bags on a Thursday evening, put out ready for Friday’s collection. She was always leaving her filthy “ business” everywhere. Kathryn’s husband Wayne would step in this and track it all through the house. Sometimes he would scratch “Kat woz here” in the smelly excrement on the vinyl kitchen floor.

Kathryn’s first miscarriage was quite early on. Wayne had kept all the information from her; “toxoplasmosis”, something to do with cats apparently. Agatha continued her visits unchecked and oblivious to their loss. With each puzzling, bewildering subsequent miscarriage she cried quietly, secretly. When the stabbing, stinging ache of emptiness came she would push all the air from her lungs and hunch into a ball, trying to stay empty and quiet for as long as she could. She pushed her breath away until sometimes she would pass out. Kathryn would look longingly at the stupid animal and wonder how Agatha could have so many babies.

She’d asked the question just as Wayne hopped into the car. She’d been swiping at the gravel to get it off the drive with a large brush. The straying stones needed to be pushed back to the border. She hadn’t really shouted but her voice was louder than normal, calling to him as the car engine revved. “I was wondering if we could buy one of Agatha’s kittens?” She’d said something like that. Kathryn couldn’t remember the exact words she’d used. She stepped with the upright broom to the side of the driveway, waiting for Wayne to reverse. She saw in the rear-view mirror a flash of recognition as he pressed the accelerator. He seemed to slide down the driveway, an expert swerve tapped the tailight into the side of her body, knocking her down. She lay with her face on a sharp stone, watching the car lights fade along the stretch of road outside her house. The red and white lights eventually disappeared. She struggled to sit up and looked at her trembling fingers. One white hand was still locked around the broken broom handle. She looked toward the house and hoisted herself, lurching towards the open door.

It had been two years since the accident and she and Wayne were now divorced. She’d been able to hang on to the empty house. Empty, except for her and Poppy, Agatha’s kitten. When the kitten had first come to live with Kathryn, she slowly began to cry openly, loudly, heartily. Eventually, the need for the silent, breathless drowning ebbed away. Poppy nestled into her chest as the little boy had done, and she found some comfort here and her body healed.

PREVIOUS ENTRY | NEXT ENTRY
SUBMIT YOUR ENTRY FOR THIS WEEK'S CHALLENGE

The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.

If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be right now. CLICK HERE

JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.