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Writing Exercise #2
Name: Pella
Location: Church Parking Lot
Dialogue: "What is your problem, Derek?"
Object: Red and Black Plaid Bandana
It was dark outside. Pella could see the warmth of her own breath drawing nonsensical patterns on the driver’s side window. It was getting colder by the minute. In her right hand, an old flip phone made unconscious circles around her palm. It had been ten minutes since she found the plaid bandana, red and black accentuated with stripper red lipstick and a hint of black eye shadow. She had pulled into the first parking lot she saw. It was a funny coincidence that it happened to be the parking lot of the Holy Trinity Baptist Church.
Her face was lit by the faint glow of the digital clock on the radio. She watched as it changed. Another minute had passed, ticked slowly away and took with it any hope of salvation for her broken marriage. How long would she stay here before deciding on a course of action? She moved her left hand to her mouth and fought back years. She knew she had to call him, but crying would make things worse. She told herself to be strong about it.
Another minute passed in silence. The clock was taunting her now. She had to call him. There was no way around it. They had been married for six years. There was so much between them, so many memories and shared experiences. Experiences Pella couldn’t have with anyone else. No matter what happened tonight, no one could take those away from her. An unexpected pain hit her index finger. She pulled her hand away and saw blood between her first and second knuckle. Pella hadn’t even noticed that she was biting her hand. This had to happen now.
She opened the cell phone and held down the number one. His number showed up on the display. Derek had been first on her speed dial since they met. She had always hated people who use the phrase “love at first sight.” She hated even more the first time she used it to descibe him.
“Hey where are you?” the familiar voice echoed from the cell phone speaker.
She tried her hardest to think of the words “calm” and “collected”.
“Hey. I’m on the way.” Her voice was weaker than she would have liked.
“Is everything ok?”
“Yeah, fine,” she said. “I was just wondering if you wanted me to pick up anything for dinner.”
Be cool, she thought.
“Of course Pell.” His laugh came through the speaker. “I was so worried. I thought something might have happened to you. You’ve been gone for ages.”
She couldn’t help but to laugh.
“Whats so funny?” He asked, laughing along with her.
Calm. Relaxed.
“Nothing I just…I love hearing your voice,” she lied, an ironic smile on her face.
“I love you do you know that?”
Go to your quiet place, she told herself. She thought of all the excuses and lies that must have went into his infidelity and only grew more upset.
Tranquility.
She thought of how often he said ‘I love you’ and wondered when he stopped meaning it. She thought of all the times they made love and wondered how often he was thinking of someone else. What was it about her that made him find comfort in the arms of another woman?
Serenity.
“Are you there?” How long had her leg been moving up and down like that?
“What is your problem, Derek?” The words burst from her mouth like a balloon that had taken too much pressure.
“What?”
So much for calm and collected. “Make sure to tell your girlfriend not to wear lipstick next time.”
“My girlfriend? Pella what the hell are you on about?”
Ah, the part where they feign ignorance. She had nearly forgotten about that part. Now was the time when she provided proof. He would inevitably deny it or make excuses, but in the end he would come clean. “I found your plaid bandana in the car.”
“I must have left it in there, so what?” he asked.
“Did you also leave lipstick on it?” Her voice was full of knives.
“Oh…”
“Yeah.”
For several minutes no one said anything. She could hear the sound of his breath quickening as he struggled for words.
“It’s not what you think,” he managed.
“Oh? Because what I think is that you’re an ass who thinks about no one but himself.” It wasn’t true. Derek had always been considerate. She had referred to him on several occasions as the most wonderful man she had ever met.
“Really Pella, just listen to me,” he said, his voice panicked. She was glad of the sorrow that diluted his voice. It comforted her to know that he was at least hurting too.
“You want me to just sit here and listen to you tell me about how she doesn’t mean anything or how it was just a one time thing,” she said, fighting back the tears she had held off for so long. This game played out for her dozens of times in the past, obviously with men who weren’t Derek. “What is it Derek? Are you having some sort of mid life crisis? Is it about time to trade in for a newer model that runs off of grapes and tequila? Am I not exciting enough for you? Please, I would love to hear this.”
“The lipstick is mine,” he said as soon as she stopped.
Again she laughed. She had to give him points for originality. “Ohh why didn’t I think of that? I should have known that these lipstick stains belong to my husband. Come on Derek. If you’re going to humiliate me, at least don’t insult my intelligence.”
She heard a sudden inhalation of breath followed by a slow exhale.
“Pella I’m serious. I think we need to talk.”
For a moment she sat staring at a man and his dog walking through the parking lot. She must have been yelling because he turned away as soon as they made eye contact. “You’re serious?” She didn’t know what else to say.
“Yes,” he said simply.
“How long?” she couldn’t believe this was happening. She wouldn’t.
“About six months,” he said reluctantly. “I meant to tell you. I swear I did.”
“What do you want for dinner?” she asked.
“What?”
“Dinner. You wanted me to pick up dinner.”
“Can we talk about this?” he asked.
“We’ll talk when I get home,” she replied, almost catatonic.
“I love you.”
“I’ll be home soon.”
She closed the flip phone and turned on the car. There was a cloud of smoke at every exhale, but she didn’t feel cold. Her eyes stayed fixed on the man walking his dog as he turned a corner and vanished from her sight. For several minutes she did nothing, the silence broken only by the gentle hum of the engine. Tears fell silently from her eyes. She adjusted her mirror, wiped her eyes, and turned the gear shift to Drive. She spent the whole ride home wondering what she was going to tell her children.
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