The woman who regained her youth
In the beginning:
So God makes a back yard garden.
From the dirt and dust he makes a gardener to care for it.
No wages, just all you can eat … except the apples.
It’s a big garden, and the man, Adam, goes throughout the land searching for help to care for it.
The closest he comes to is a Chimpanzee. But it doesn’t work. The Chimp’s too lazy, too hairy, and doesn’t understand a human word.
Adam goes to God, and explains his problem. “You want a garden or a bunch of weeds,” he says.
God puts Adam to sleep, takes out a rib. No blood. No incision.
Miracle number one.
When Adam wakes up he finds this beautiful creature lying beside him.
Miracle number two.
“Woweee,” Adam says.
God thinks Adam said Eve. So that becomes the beautiful creature’s name.
Adam feels his missing rib, feels a touch of pride, thanks God, and says, “The creature is almost as beautiful as me. She’ll make a good helper.”
This is what Jack Doyle believes.
This is what Jennie Doyle believes she must believe.
Until … the third miracle.
June 10th, 2009
The door knocker’s beating had the sound of distant gun shots in the dark morning. It broke a neighborhood commandment, “Thou shall be quite at 2am.”
Inside, a dog barked. Outside, more dogs.
An eldely heavyset woman opened the door of her small cape cod, and was not surprised to see he was drunk. So was the young thing that hung around his neck like a pretty scarf. That, she didn’t expect. He rarely brought them home.
“Sorry, Babe, lost my key,” he slurred.
The young thing gave a finger wave along with a stupid smile. The other hand held a bottle like she came to launch a ship.
The man, at a calendar age fifty nine had a biological age of thirty nine, and a social age of twenty nine. Black hair, chiseled face with the frame of a pro quarterback made him a lottery pick for the all American sex team. It’s why the young thing instead of the wife who held open the door with a blank stare.
“Got us a guest for the night, Babe.”
She closed the door, and walked back to her bedroom with the dog following behind her.
He opened the door staggered towards her, took her am, and slurred, “Hold on Babe, we’re gonna use your bed, bigger.” He paused with a wry smile, “She’s a little wild, ok.”
The dog growled at the man.
The man growled back.
She pulled away from the from the man, raised her voice in disbelief, and said, “What? You and her? In my bed.?”
“Just for tonight.”
“You … you, you’re crazy drunk.”
The young wild thing laughed, and said, “Me too, momma.”
The dog barked as if it understood.
The woman held the dog back.
The husband and the young wild thing went into the wife’s bedroom, and closed the door.
The lock clicked.
She cried, and beat on the door.
The bed squeaked just as it had all those wonderful years ago.
The woman slouched to the husband’s bedroom, took some pills, washed it down with a glass of Gray Goose, and laid down intending not to get up.