Moving Day

Your car is cold, though the windows have begun to fog because of your breath. You started the engine briefly five minutes ago to warm up the cabin of the car. You should wait a few more minutes before you start it again. Your cell phone rings.(set: $basement_visited to 0)(set: $bathroom_visited to 0)(set: $bedroom_visited to 0)(set: $your_office_visited to 0)(set: $mikes_office_visited to 0) [[You answer the phone.]]

"What do you think?" Your friend Kay sounds uneasy. It's been an hour. Sure, the police have other things to do than escort you, but you kind of wish the dispatcher had been more reassuring. And in the last phone call this morning, Mike said he hadn't slept in forty-eight hours. He was trying to scare you into coming home, but still... [["Let's go without them," you say.]] [["We should wait for the cops," you say.]]

"Are you sure?" Kays says. You can see her face through the window of her car, her brow furrowed with concern. You nod, trying to ignore cold dread. Your mutual friend Alec starts up their car. You start yours. [[As a convoy, you drive to the house.]]

You start the car to warm it up again. Outside, it begins to snow. Impatient to get this mess over with -- it is a school night after all and you have papers to grade -- you reach for your phone. It rings. You answer it. [[It's the police.]]

The fresh dusting of snow crunches under the tires of your car as you pull to a halt in the driveway. Moments later, your friends pull up too. You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Your courage is in here somewhere. You zip up your coat and go up to the door. Hand shaking, you knock. No answer. [["Mike?" you call.]]

You look at the house. There's nothing more you can do today. You steel yourself and trudge up to the garage. Your bike is at the back of a maze of tools. It takes you a minute to untangle it. Your car starts. What the?! [[You go look, taking the bike with you.]]

Mike, now in your car, backs it down the driveway. Kay and Alec chase him, and you abandon your bike and run down the driveway. Mike hits the clicker in your car. The garage door closes. Mike drives off. You swear a blue streak and look back just as the door closes. Kay holds your bike while Alec brushes it off. [["He's an asshole," Kay says.]]

"They're on their way, Ma'am," says a reassuring female voice of the dispatcher. "I've got an Officer Emily Harris and Officer Kim Soung." Two women? You had kind of envisioned big burly guys, more bouncers than soft touch. "Ma'am? Are you okay?" Something is better than nothing. Hopefully they can keep him distracted. [["I'll be glad to see them," you say.]]

Just as your car warms up, the squad car pulls up. It's weird to think of the police as serving you personally. Yeah, you deal with them in the course of your job -- not all teens make it to adulthood without a record -- but this feels so much more... intimate. And not the good kind. Officer Harris is actually kind of a big and burly lady, and Officer Soung is slender with an athletic build. You're relieved not to have to deal with the usual white dudes with crew cuts. This pair reminds you of your beloved students. Officer Harris comes up to your window and [[she goes over the rules:]]

1) If possible, do not engage your soon-to-be-ex-husband. 2) If possible, your friends should not engage your soon-to-be-ex-husband. 3) Let the officers distract your soon-to-be-ex-husband. 4) Take only what you need, and work quickly. The last one's okay by you; your car can only hold 4 boxes and your bike anyway. "Do you understand and agree?" says Officer Harris. [["Yes," you say.]]

"I don't think that's a good idea," says Officer Harris. "I know," you say. "But he's my husband." The Officers step aside. The intercom goes silent. [["Honey?" you say.]]

It's weird to drive with three vehicles in one caravan to the townhouse you and Mike used to share. It feels like overkill, but that last message scared you. Or maybe it pissed you off. It definitely made you sigh in the kind of eternal exhaustion that's become your life. Officers Harris and Soung head for the door of the townhouse. You follow at a discrete distance, with Kay and Alec behind you. You jump a little at Mike's voice over the intercom. He sounds awful. And defensive. [[Let the cops do their jobs.]] [[Demand to speak to Mike.]]

It's hard to wait, but Officer Harris has a calm tone. You can tell she's done this before. After a brief negotiation, the three locks and one heavy duty bolt unlock. Mike, disheveled and unshowered, looms in the doorway. He's got six inches and at least eighty pounds on you. Barely-restrained fury radiates from him. [[It's a little too raw to look him in the eyes.]]

No answer. You try your key, but the lock has already been changed. Paranoid bastard. Frustrated, you go back to your car. Now Mike's not answering his phone. You still have the clicker for the garage, though. You hit it and the door goes up. Kay calls again, "What now?" [["I can at least get the bike,"]]

Ahead are the shelves that hold your most immediate things. You can tell just by looking you won't have room for everything. One one shelf are the grade books for each of the five classes you're teaching this year. On the other shelf are your scrapbooks, full of memories of friends and family and happier times. [[Pack the grade books.]] [[Pack the scrapbooks.]]

It hurts to leave the photos behind, but maybe that's what being divorced means? Besides, some of them are still on Facebook and maybe your mom has others. Your students need continuity, and you need to keep your job. [[Your cat, Epsilon, scampers in.]]

Broke though the school is, they do have computer backup of your students' grades. Right now, it's more important to remember the times when you had hope and happiness. [[Your cat, Epsilon, scampers in.]]

The cat streaks behind the sofa as if chased. "Sir. Sir?" Officer Harris's voice sounds like she's getting closer, maybe following your soon-to-be-ex? Sure enough, when you turn Mike has barged into the living room. "I was just telling them how much you loved these." He goes over to the curio cabinet and grabs a handful of the crystal animals you've collected over the years. You pick up your box, but he blocks your path. "Don't you?" [[You push past him.]] [[You try to talk to him.]]

You find a calm voice you didn't know you had, "I'm just going to get a few things and leave." Officer Soung comes in. "Sir?" He has a weird calm, as if consciously ignoring the tension in the room. "Didn't you say you play the ukulele?" Mike turns, all charm. "A little, yeah." Shaking, you hand off your box to Alec. With a look, he wants to know how you are. "I'm okay," you say, and turn toward [[The Main Staircase.]]

Entreaty turns to fury. Mike drops the crystal. You try to control-drop the box. Epsilon hides under the recliner, like always. [[Mike grabs your arm.]]

You find a calm voice you didn't know you had, "I'm just going to get a few things and leave." "Let her go, Mike," says Kay from the doorway. "You get out of my house," says Mike. "Sir?" You don't dare look away, but it sounds like the smaller cop. Was it "Soung"? Mike lets you go, but trips you. You fall. "And now assault?" shouts Kay. "What's the matter with you?" Officer Soung looks to you. [[Press Charges Now.]] [["It's okay," you say.]]

The townhouse has four floors, and your things are scattered throughout. You need to keep your focus and not get distracted. (unless: $basement_visited is 1)[Go to [[The Basement.]]] (unless: $bathroom_visited is 1) [Go to [[The Bathroom.]]] (unless: $bedroom_visited is 1)[Go to [[The Bedroom.]]] (unless: $your_office_visited is 1)[Go to [[Your Office.]]] (unless: $mikes_office_visited is 1)[Go to [[Mike's Office.]]]

Officers Harris and Soung take statements from everyone. The click of handcuffs on Mike's wrists sets you off. Your legs fold up under you and you are on the floor. You are crying uncontrollably. It's not relief. Today there is no relief. Mike turns on you. Curses you out. Orders everyone out of his house. The cops take him out to their car. [[You are shaking too hard to follow them.]]

You jump at a hand on your shoulder. It's Alec. "That was pretty intense," he says. "We can stop if you want." [[You nod, "Load what we've got and my bike. We'll finish this another day."]]

Kay and Alec do the heavy lifting. Literally. You fumble with your phone, looking for the number for your court-appointed defender. You're lucky your diagnosis was your defense and that the Judge saw through Mike's smoothly-oiled charm. [[For now, you concentrate on the papers to grade for tomorrow. The rest will keep.]]

Something is going on in the garage. You're not going to get involved; you just need one more thing from this last room. Empty wine bottles and garbage cover the floor, mixed into stacks of unsorted papers and half-unpacked boxes. You pick your precarious way through the mess toward Mike's desk. He hates it when you try to clean, insisting you never give him enough time to do it on his own. You wonder with grim humor how many more years he'll need. But you should probably do this room last. Chances are that if Mike finds out you were in here, you won't get a chance to pack anything else. You pay attention to your bad feeling and go back to [[The Main Staircase.]] You've already been enough other places. [[You choose to press on and finish this.]]

This room was supposed to be your inner sanctum. He bought the rolltop desk you always wanted with all the little drawers and cubbyholes and secret compartments. He also bought it on credit and stuck you with the bill. He built all these shelves. You'll just have the one bookcase now, which is why you have to make hard choices. One box. Here we go. (link: "Pack the children's books from Mom and Grandma and collector's volumes your dad gave you.")[(set: $your_office_visited to 1)(goto:"Pack the children's books from Mom and Grandma and collector's volumes your dad gave you.")] (link: "The school doesn't have even pencils and pens. Empty out the office supplies.")[(set: $your_office_visited to 1)(goto:"The school doesn't have even pencils and pens. Empty out the office supplies.")]

Epsilon jumps up on the bed and maus at you, a low natter over his purr. You skritch his ears and promise yourself you will never sleep in this bed again. Kay drops an empty box at the door. "We're trying to get him to tell his favorite jokes, but he's still agitated." "Thanks." You pick up the box and head for [[The Closet]]

Shampoo. Conditioner. Body wash and lotion. There's not much in here. You briefly consider taking the scale, but ironically it's a little too much weight to add to your box. And you always hated his backhanded references to your appearance and eating habits. As if there wasn't enough pressure from the rest of the world. He said you would never be happy without him. (link: "You hope he's wrong.")[(set: $bathroom_visited to 1)(goto:"You hope he's wrong.")]

You head downstairs to the bottom floor. It's chilly down here; the heat never quite reaches this far. The cold makes you shiver. You head for the shelf of books and papers. On the left are your books for your post-grad college classes and your sources for your Master's Thesis. If you can somehow finish it in the middle of this mess, it will mean a pay raise because you'll be current on Best Practices. On the right is your collection of student projects, mementos, and letters. You haven't even been teaching long, but you already got to touch so many lives. Here is stuff from the kids who did well and flourished under your care. Only one box. Time to choose. (link: "Pack the Master's Thesis stuff.")[(set: $basement_visited to 1)(goto:"Pack the Master's Thesis stuff.")] (link: "Pack student projects and mementos.")[(set: $basement_visited to 1) (goto:"Pack student projects and mementos.")]

These tangible reminders will help you keep your link to the past. Your thesis is backed up on your laptop and saved to the cloud. You can borrow what you need and recreate the rest, you hope. It will be hard, yes, but most important right now is this reminder of your successes. These are why you worked so hard to become a teacher. And why your students love you. [[You turn to go upstairs.]]

You're only halfway through the schoolyear, and your students in fourth and fifth hour are working on an American History project you're really proud of. Local cable is going to run their interviews with family members who lived through a historic event. Maybe it's best to make new memories. It hurts to look forward, but it's better than looking back. [[You turn to go upstairs.]]

"You need to take the exercise bike," Mike says from the landing. He has the ukulele in his hand. "Sir?" Officer Harris sounds close. The only way around him is up the stairs; the patio door is snowed under a good three feet deep. It might be iced shut, for all you can tell. Mike comes down to the bottom stair. "It's out in the garage. Come on." You don't want it. Your new place is one bedroom in a shared house. [["I can at least get the bike,"]] you think to yourself. [["No, thank you," you say.]]

You hear Mike downstairs, singing. "Dream a Little Dream of Me." He has a good voice, a booming tenor, and isn't a half-bad musician. Music used to be the thing that brought you together. That was before you gave up piano because there wasn't room. And cello because you weren't going to go professional. And singing because he always had work to do and it distracted him. Funny how it was okay that he could sing and you couldn't. One reason of many why you haven't been back. The music has stopped. Mike is arguing, not loud yet, but intense. He's dangerous when he's intense. [[Head for the commotion.]] [[Ignore the ruckus.]]

Mike is talking in low, threatening tones as you enter the room. "I'm just trying to pack a box." Alec has his hands out, non-threatening and not making eye-contact. "Hey Mike, do you know 'The Rainbow Connection'?" Officer Harris holds out Mike's ukulele, of all things. "Why don't you shut the hell up?" Mike swats the ukulele away. This looks too intense. You decide to [[Ignore the ruckus.]] [["Mike," you say.]]

Time to go somewhere else before things come to a head. Head for [[The Main Staircase.]]

The walk-in closet was the best thing about this place. It's the nicest house you've ever lived in. A real, adult place. The kind you'd have dinner parties with wine and laughter, Thanksgiving with turkey and potatoes, and Halloween with a cheesy "eyeball" grapes and spaghetti "guts". You were going to grow old together. Epsilon, being a cat, jumps into your box and chews thoughtfully on one corner. (link: "Time to pack up.")[(set: $bedroom_visited to 1)(goto:"Time to pack up.")]

Some of the costumes don't even fit right anymore. And your administrators will not appreciate the more colorful and sarcastic of your nerdy t-shirt collection. If you have to go it alone, at least you can look like a professional. [["Epsilon," Mike calls. "Here, kitty kitty!"]]

Fest garb is expensive, and you've been volunteering and collecting stuff for years. You can get new clothes at any second-hand store, and maybe it's best to ditch this stuff anyway. Your teacher clothes are mostly shades of grey, black, and brown. Drab. Inoffensive. Depressing. When you go shopping, you're going to buy the brightest colored blouses and slacks in the place. [["Epsilon," Mike calls. "Here, kitty kitty!"]]

There's been too much didactic thinking in your life until now. This or that. One or the other. Time for a little balance. Maybe then you can start to remember the person you were before. [["Epsilon," Mike calls. "Here, kitty kitty!"]]

Epsilon perks up and races downstairs. You close your eyes. Whatever your soon-to-be-ex-husband is doing in the kitchen is a trap. [["What's he up to now?" you mutter to yourself.]] You fold up your box and firm up your resolve. [["I just have to stay focused."]]

Epsilon is yowling somewhere. That's the problem with cats; sometimes "I'm in pain and dying" actually means "I just like the acoustics of this room." With a bitter laugh, you decide it's probably best to speed this up. You turn back to [[The Main Staircase.]]

You feel the tightening pain of a tension headache as you head down to the kitchen. Mike scrapes wet cat food into a dish for Epsilon as Officer Soung watches. He look up as you come in and a quick, vicious smile flits across his face. "You're taking the cat," he says. The house you're moving to has two cats already. "Sir," says Officer Soung. "You told me you had custody of the pet." Mike's eyes bore into you, daring you to say no. "I'm sorry," you say, [["I just have to stay focused."]] [[Let Officer Soung deal with it.]]

"Why won't the piano repair man get an aquarium?" says Officer Soung. Mike stands suddenly."What?!" Officer Soung takes an involuntary step back. Epsilon's tail is right under her foot. The cat screams, everyone jumps, and Epsilon runs for it. "The fuck did you do to my cat?!" Mike screams. To your horror, [[Mike takes a punch at Officer Soung.]]

The cop steps aside and uncorks her pepper spray. Mike lunges again but pulls up short. "Do you need a glass of water?" Officer Harris says from somewhere behind you. Mike eyes the pepper spray and saves face. "Yeah. That'd be nice. Can I get you something?" "Water would be perfect," says Officer Harris. Officer Soung looks to you for what to do next. [[Press Charges Now.]] You're shaking an on the verge of tears again, dammit. [["I just have to stay focused."]]

Some things cannot be replaced at any price. Your phone rings. It's Mike. With bone-deep weariness, you answer. "What?" [["I'm going to kill myself," he says. "As soon as you're gone."]]

Practicality is what's going to help you get to the end of the school year, not dreams and wishes about how your life should have turned out. Your phone rings. It's Mike. With bone-deep weariness, you answer. "What?" [["I'm going to kill myself," he says. "As soon as you're gone."]]

Your soon-to-be-ex-husband is exhausting. You have been dreading this threat. He hasn't made it in years, but it isn't a surprise. When you two met, he was Depressed. Capital "D", no meds or treatment. You gave him a shoulder to cry on and loving arms even when he was prickly and suspicious. You promised to heal with him and help him. But while you sought therapy and growth, he holed up in his office with bottles of whatever was cheap and chatrooms of truly creepy people. [["This isn't about you," you say.]] [[You hang up the phone and call for Kay and Alec.]]

"Come down to the garage," he says. "Right now." The tears are angry this time. You scrub at them. You avoid eye contact with everyone and head for the garage. Your lungs feel tight with exhaustion and dread. The garage door is running. "Sir!" Officer Soung shouts. "You don't want to do that!" You arrive just as [[the garage door closes, crushing your bike.]]

Kay and Alec's faces appear at the bottom of the stairs. "He's out in the garage," you say. "Shenanigans?" says Alec. At your nod, he and Kay go off to find the cops. You take long slow breaths, like your therapist taught you, and decide where to go next on [[The Main Staircase.]]

You stare at the mangled remains of your bike. You've had it since high school, a gift in lieu of a car. People are shouting, but their voices seem like they're coming from far away. You don't feel like you're even in your body anymore. Have they subdued Mike? Maybe your friend with the bike shop can fix it. You have no memory of getting in your car. "Okay?" Kay says, as though she's finishing a long train of thought. [["What?" you say.]]

You and Kay take your boxes while Alec gets your bike. You load up the car, hug your friends goodbye, and you are free to go. You wave to the officers as you drive away. Some things you keep, some things you give up. But you have what was most important to you, and you stood up for what was yours. In the end, that's as happy an ending as anyone can ask for. [[Start Over]]

"Hence the divorce," you say. Knowing Mike, he'll drive the car until it runs out of gas, fill it, and drive some more, just to keep you on the hook. "How am I going to teach tomorrow?" "Your kids are high schoolers, right?", Kay says. You nod, too angry and frustrated to speak. [[Kay smiles. "They'll understand."]]

You swallow hard. "Can we reschedule?" Kay puts her arm around your shoulders and leads you to her car. "Of course. I'll even help you with the police report." Alec loads your bike into the car. Today is not your day. [[Start Over]]

Kay and Alec come up behind you, supportive. They have your four boxes. You take a deep breath. "Honey, why don't you give the officers the five cent tour?" Mike is vain about his house and the many half-finished projects inside it. Mike looks stunned, then smiles. "That sounds like a great idea," says Officer Harris genially. Her body language is tense, though. She's right not to trust that the sunny mood will last. Mike steps aside with a flowery bow and leads the officers toward the stairs. [[You enter the living room.]]

You stayed as long as you did because he never raised a hand to you. It's weirdly a relief that that line has been crossed. You get into your car, look at the townhouse, and then call Kay to reschedule for another day. "Don't worry," she says, "next time will be better." "I hope so," you say. It's not the end, but it is a first step. [[Start Over]]

You look at your reflection in the mirror. It's a cliche to look at yourself to look inside yourself, but here you are, in bad lighting on a cold day. Your eyes are sunken, haunted. Weirdly enough, you sleep better now that you're not in this place. A sofa in freedom beats a four-poster king bed with him. Your therapist says you're progressing well, considering. The birth control pills are the last item in. And the most bittersweet. Maybe, if things had been different... [[You head for the landing of the stairs.]]

He turns and his eyes get that scary darkness. "And you." Alec gets in front of him before Officer Harris can. "Look man--" Mike charges him. "--away from my wife!" Officer Harris, pepper spray out, steps between them. "Take a breath, Mike." The pepper spray cannister in his face, ready to deploy, makes Mike think better of cussing her out. [[And of course, that's when Epsilon decides to twine through Mike's legs.]]

Your professional clothes, sensible teacher-y blouses and straight-leg slacks, are first. Beyond them is your Renaissance festival garb, years' worth of Halloween costumes, and the stuff you wear to Science Fiction Conventions. You shoo Epsilon out of the box. What will you take? [[Teacher clothes]] [[Costumes]] [[A few of each]]

"We loaded up everything you packed," she said. "The cops say you might sue Mike for property damage." "I'll talk to my lawyer," you say. Your lawyer. Right. You have a court-appointed lawyer because wives who spend six days in the Open Psych Ward get treated with kid gloves, at least by nice judges. "Sorry about the bike," Kay says. "I'll talk to Jim at the bike shop." There has to be a way to fix this. No. You did the best you could. Still, as you shift your car into gear, you wish this day could have gone just a little better. [[Start Over]]

You ignore him because both of you know that's not true. You bend over Mike's desk and trip the secret catch. The hidden panel swings open. Mike looms over you, threatening. "Didn't you hear me?" "Mike, don't." You wish you could will the cops into the room. Instead, you open the left hand drawer and take the key to your safe deposit box. "Put that back," he says. You look at him. Not in the eyes, but at the space between nose and chin, just like your self-defense teacher taught you during your freshman year of college. "It's mine, Mike. And now I'm going to leave." [[You walk past him.]]

"You're being ridiculous," he says. "Just come home and we'll forget this even happened." You don't turn. If you turn, you won't leave, and he'll find a way to pull you into this black hole of a marriage. "Goodbye, Mike." Officers Soung and Harris appear on the stairs with apologetic looks. "I'll have to put Epsilon to sleep," he threatens. "And then I'll kill myself." [[Officers Harris and Soung move past you into the room, a buffer.]]

It irritates you that your voice cracks. "Is there any other way into the house?" Officer Soung asks. You shake your head no. More knocking. No answer. The lot of you are freezing on this door step. Even in coats, the wind bites. [["Maybe try the garage?" says Kay.]]

You hustle down to your car and hit the clicker. The garage door opens. He's already changed the lock on the door. Paranoid bastard. You apologize to the officers, "I think this is about all we're going to get done today. Officer Harris nods. "Feel free to call back when you want to take another shot." You sign off on their report and Officer Houng head for their car. [["I can at least get the bike,"]] you say.

"It wasn't my fault," says Mike. "She tripped." "Wow," says Officer Soung. She stands before the shelves of DVDs. "Is this your collection?" Kay catches on. "I bet you haven't seen half the stuff he has." Mike gives you a warning look, but his vanity pulls him over to the wall. He and Officer Soung start comparing favorite movies. Shaking badly but determined, you head for [[The Main Staircase.]]

He refuses to move. You really don't want to lay hands on him. "Hey, Mike," Officer Harris calls down the stairs. "Your cat is being adorable. "You can stop this any time," says Mike, a threat. "And get these people out of our house." Exclamations of delight ring down the stairs. Lured again by the promise of praise and approval, Mike reluctantly goes upstairs. Fighting for calm, you wait to the count of twenty before heading back to [[The Main Staircase.]]

"No," you say. "You won't." And you pray that like all his worst threats, these are empty ones. But on the way down to the garage you pick up Epsilon and hug him. He purrs. You cry. [[Then you set down the cat and look to your friends.]]

Epsilon maus, his most charming "treats now?" noise. Mike cracks a smile. The cops laugh softly. "Cats, huh?" says Officer Soung. Mike picks up Epsilon and nuzzles him, heading out of the room. Officer Harris puts the pepper spray back on her belt and follows him with a significant look to her partner. Officer Soung comes close to you and discreetly asks what you want to do next. [[Press Charges Now.]] "It's okay," you say. "For now let's [[Ignore the ruckus.]]"

You think of yoga class, center your mind, and take a deep cleansing breath. You move into the room and pick your way toward Mike's desk. [["You don't need anything from here," Mike says from the door.]]