Blink - Short Story

It was the first time she slept through the night in 62 attempts. She was home, back in her own bed, her own house, with her husband now responsible solely for her care. She had lost 15 pounds but felt good; however the chase was on, she knew she was home to die.

The tube inserted into her chest was feeding her a delicate combination of nutrients and drugs, the nutrients to make her healthy, the drugs to rid her of any pain.

On her first morning home she sat by the window overlooking the garden she had spent the last 35 years perfecting, a garden so lovely and serene that every bird in the neighborhood had decided to drop in and welcome her home. The chirping and whistling filled the air with a peacefulness she could never find at the hospital. Blue Jays and Cardinals splashed in the bird bath that she had bought at a garage sale just after her youngest son left home for school, while chickadees hopped and bounced across the fresh green grass picking up seeds that had fallen from one of the many feeders scattered in the trees that hung over the yard.

“I can’t believe I was in there for so long, where does the time go?” she asked aloud, not to anyone in particular, but she knew he would answer, he was ever present and now he was busying himself behind her in the kitchen.

“Life’s short sweet pea, blink and you’ll miss it.” He said as tools clanged against pipes.

“You always say that.” She remarked.

A giant wooden fence surrounded their lot, making it appear like Fort Knox from the outside, while inside maintaining a quiet solitude. Tiny waves rippled across the surface of a Zen-like pond while a waterfall splashed down a cascading artificial landscape. She sat in her wheelchair, a blanket in her lap and watched the birds when suddenly the image changed.

Now her yard was filled with children playing, the fence was gone and gone too were the birds. The grass was yellow and dry; the lot was barren except for a red and white swing set and a patio table, where 4 adults sat drinking lemonade. She squinted her eyes to look more closely at the faces of the adults sitting when suddenly the picture changed again. Taken aback, she rubbed her eyes with both hands and shook her head, opening them to see the birds, the pond, and green grass again.

She took a sip of her herbal tea, released a relaxing sigh when unexpectedly her vision fooled her again, this time the yard was empty except for a lone figure, she recognized the figure as her husband, yet he was much younger, he stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the land.

What was happening she wondered, were the drugs incorrectly administered, her husband was new at playing hospital nurse, had he made a terrible error? She looked down at the machine that pumped the solution through the tube, saw her frail hands and long sinewy fingers fumble with the line. Then again it happened, so abruptly her skin changed youthful and tanned, her hands moved with a swiftness she had long forgotten.

But just as quickly and without warning everything changed back to present day. She blinked, feeling her eyes shut firmly, her eyelashes resting for a moment, she waited, was she losing her mind. When she opened her eyes, the world around her had fantastically altered itself again, now she was pregnant, her belly full and her skin tight. Instantly she escaped into the feeling, the memory of carrying a life within her. She looked down at her round and full belly and giggled in delight. Around her shoulder she felt the warm and familiar touch of her husband, she turned upward over her right shoulder to see him, he was in his mid 20’s with a full beard and shinny blue eyes, like wild berries. She blinked and he disappeared, in his place was her dark home as it appeared now.

Finally she made the connection; could it be that when I blink I somehow magically transport back in time? She wondered. She tested her theory and blinked again, and sure enough as she opened her eyes everything was different. She was standing now instead of sitting, outside was dark and raining, inside it was noisy, and full of people, the music blaring. In her hand was a glass of red wine. She looked around instantly recognizing her sisters, her cousins, and her mother, who sat in the middle of the room, alone staring blankly into her lap.

“Mom, is that you?” she asked. Her mother looked up and answered;

“Of course it is stupid, who do you think it is. Have another drink you dumb idiot.” A sudden shot hit her chest feeling like a bullet as she remembered how her mother was always able to make her feel. Then she blinked again and back she was to sitting with a blanket on her lap, hooked up to a machine that was keeping her alive.

“Damnit,” she said to herself, loud enough she could hear herself speak it. She blinked again, wanting to go back to where she left off, to have a chance to rebuttal her mother’s comment, and to have a conversation with her, one she never had the chance when her mother was still alive, but as she opened her eyes, her mother was gone. It was daylight again, and this time she was alone. At her feet was the family dog that had died years ago. He looked up to her with those puppy dog eyes that she could never resist.

“Oh Bandit.” She leaned down to pat him and stopped herself. She wanted more than with Bandit. She decided to concentrate on keeping her eyes open for as long as she possible could. She rubbed his belly and tickled his ears, laughing all the while. She was filled with such emotion and joy in seeing her little buddy that she felt her eyes well up with tears.

“Oh no.” she spoke out loud, “Not again.” Her eyes grew increasingly sensitive to the air around he, she struggled to hold open her eyelids but knew it was fleeting.

With her last moments she kissed her dog; “I love you Bandit, you’re a good boy.” She blinked again. She kept her eyes closed a bit longer, knowing they would open to her present life, and not anxious to return, wanting to let the memory of Bandit stay fresh in her mind, his smell, and his feel to her hands, she remained sitting in her wheelchair, eyes closed for a long while. A smile came across her face.

She opened her eyes, only for a moment, and blinked again, anxious to see who she would meet this time. As she did her daughter ran into her knee, slamming it hard with her head. She was no more than 4 years old, her nose red and raw, and her cheeks rosy. Outside it was winter, the grass long covered with mounds of fresh white snow.
“Sorry Mommy.” Exclaimed her daughter.
“That’s quite alright, dear.” She replied as she reached out to place her hand on her daughter’s head. Another tear dripped from her eye, but she held it open, straining it against the air that tempted her to blink again.

“Mommy loves you.” She said. Her daughter simply smiled for a moment and then ran off, her older brother in pursuit.

“I’m gonna get you for that.” He screamed as he ran past his mother.
“Tyler, wait, don’t chase her, leave her be.” But he ignored his mother and ran quickly past. She remembered how Lucy could aggravate Tyler, how she always knew how to get under his skin. Then she blinked again. The tears came steady now, she offered no thought to what was happening to her, instead indulged in the fantasy that was occurring.
What will be next? She thought, like clicking a remote and changing channels she was visiting her life. She opened and closed her eyes rapidly, and as she did scenes played out before her of the 35 wonderful and wild years she had lived in that house. She saw her children young and old, her family at holidays, and neighbors through decades of time. She stopped at some memories longer then others, cherishing the seconds like a golden sunset. She knew now what was going on, and she wasn’t scared, instead she felt grateful for the chance to revisit them all, each of them, all the players of her life.

One image continued, it was the image of her husband alone, she didn’t recognize the moments, only the man, and in the moments he often appeared sad, and reflective, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. She thought about these moments with her eyes closed. Perhaps he did have the weight of the world on his shoulders, she only ever saw his caring, loving and nurturing side, but perhaps there was something she had missed.

She opened her eyes to the present, only to blink quickly again and reopened them to a time she at first did not recognize.

It was dark, a moon was lighting the yard, the fence was not yet erected, but the bird feeders were there, and so was the pond. She recognized the lone figure to be her husband, his silhouette standing with hands on hips, staring up to the night sky, alone again. She stood up from her chair, her body was more able, but not as youthful as it once was, she realized by how she felt that she was at the beginning of her sickness. She opened the door to the yard, it squeaked, alerting her husband to her presence. It was late, the neighborhood was silent and as he turned he whipped his face clean. She could see he had been crying.
“What are you doing up?” he asked as he frantically composed himself, trying desperately to hide his tears. She shook her head as she walked toward him in the moonlight, and without words tried to tell him to be silent. Suddenly she realized that he had been all alone, with her so pre-occupied with her children, and then later her health, he had been left with no one to turn. How could I have forgotten him, she thought, through all this, how could I have forgotten his feelings. She blinked.

“NO!” she screamed as she realized her blinking lost him to her. “GARY.” She cried. “Gary.” She heard nothing from behind her, from the front of the house, where he was busy working in the garage. She blinked again, back to reality then blinked again, this time it was her sister, crying at her side, she blinked again and again, until either her husband would appear in the past, or until he would appear from the garage in the present, she wanted him near her and as she blinked and called out his name she cried, sniffling at first then sobbing.

“Gary, where are you?” she asked through tear soaked eyes. Finally he appeared, as handsome as ever, he seemed to get better looking as he aged, she thought. He sat beside her as she held a book in her hand. He was looking out at the garden with a smile on his face.

“Not bad if I do say so myself.” He exclaimed with obvious pride. She followed his eyes and looked into the yard, the fence appeared new and fresh, the smell of cedar wafting through her nose. She couldn’t hesitate and spoke with quick words, words that sounded like an auctioneer, knowing she only had the time it would take until she would have to blink again;

“I’m sorry for not paying more attention to you when I had the chance, I hope you will forgive me for being so selfish all my life. I love you, always have and always will, you’re my soul mate, and the love of my life. I think of you at all times, even when I don’t show it.” Then she slowed her speech, watching as his face was filled with bewilderment and awe “I love you now and I loved you then and I will love you forever.” She sighed, breathing for the first time since she began speaking to him. He smiled and leaned in to kiss her, just as he did, she closed her eyes to receive his kiss.

She kept her eyes shut, afraid opening them would lose him to her. She smelt him and felt his stubble on her chin, the same stubble she used to complain about. He was warm and tender, strong but giving. Her heart grew tired, she felt faint of breath. The kiss lasted for what felt like forever.

Gary came in from the garage to find his bride, his sweet wife in her wheelchair, her head was tilted back. What colour that had remained in her was gone as she sat motionless. His heart skipped a beat before he checked her pulse. With his hand on her wrist, he starred into her face, and just as he knew she was gone, he recognized a lasting smile on her face. He leant in and kissed her one last time, his tears trickling down his cheeks to land on hers.

“I love you too.” He said, as though somehow he had heard her.