"M. Rickert - Memoir of a Deer Woman" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rickert Mary)

Memoir of a Deer Woman
by M. Rickert

Ms. RickertтАЩs last contribution to our pages (in our December issue) left several
readers wondering just who was the Christmas Witch. Her new tale might also
raise a question or two about identity. But isnтАЩt that one of the things a memoir
ought to do?

****

Her husband comes home, stamps the snow from his shoes, kisses her, and asks
how her day was.
тАЬOur time together is short,тАЭ she says.
тАЬWhat are you talking about?тАЭ
тАЬI found a deer by the side of the road. It was stuck under the broken fence.
Hit by a car. I called the rescue place but when the animal rescue man saw it, he said
it had to be shot. The policeman shot it.тАЭ
He looks through the mail while she stands there, crying. When he realizes
this, he hugs her. Already she feels the hard shapes forming at the top of her head.
Later, she will tell him she has a headache.
He will hold her anyway. He will sleep with his mouth pressed against her
neck. She will think of the noise the deer made, that horrible braying.
At midnight she wakes up. The sky is exploding with distant fireworks. From
past experience she knows that if they stand and strain their necks, they can just
barely see the veins of color over the treetops. It is mostly futile, and tonight neither
of them rises. тАЬHappy New Year,тАЭ he whispers.
тАЬWhat do you think animals feel?тАЭ she says.
He mumbles something about Wally, their dog, who sleeps soundly at the foot
of their bed.
тАЬThat deer was frightened. Today, I mean. It made the most horrible noise;
did I tell you that? I never heard such a noise before. It was really mournful and
horrible.тАЭ
The fireworks end in a flourish of tiny explosions. She knows what she should
have done. She should not have waited for the policeman, who took four shots
before he killed it. She knew that deer was dying, why did she pretend otherwise?
She should have smothered it and put it out of its misery.
****
New YearтАЩs morning is cold and crisp. Wally wakes them up with his big wet
tongue. Her husband takes him out to do his business. When they come back inside,
she listens to the pleasant sounds of her husband talking in soft cooing words to
Wally, his food dish being filled. Her husband comes back into the bedroom alone,
carefully shutting the door behind him. She knows what that means. He crawls in
beside her. He rubs his hands up and down her body. тАЬHappy New Year,тАЭ he says.
She sinks into his desires until they become her own. Who knows how long they
have? Maybe this is the last time. Later, he fries maple sausage and scrambles eggs,
but she finds she cannot eat. He asks her if she feels all right. She shrugs. тАЬMy head
hurts,тАЭ she says. тАЬAlso my hands.тАЭ He tells her to go to the doctor. She nods. Well,
of course. But she does not tell him that she already knows what is happening.
She takes down the ornaments, wraps them in tissue paper, circles the tree,
removing the lights. The branches brush her cheeks and lips and she nibbles on the