Page 96 of Red Mountain Burning
Jailbird
It wasn’t Otis’s first night in a cell, and judging by the way things were going, it wouldn’t be the last. Though he tried to sleep, he was up most of the night, his monkey mind racing like a caffeinated hamster on a wheel. Other than the occasional door opening and closing somewhere down the hall, it was quiet, and the quiet made his thinking so much noisier. Not having a clock was torture enough. He had no idea how long he’d been there, and at one point during the madness of his captivity, he thought he might have been there for several days.
The vision that most plagued him was Joan and her crossed arms, watching him lose his mind. He could still feel the anger running through him as he’d pushed up from the gold concrete and smashed the lights on the sign, then, turning and seeing her and knowing that he’d lost more than his mind.
Was there anything worse than having Joan angry with him? He didn’t think so. He thought about the way she’d walked with him back to the house before the policemen had shown up. How she’d hosed him off, treated the concrete burns, and dressed his wounds, all without saying a word. No, when you’ve upset Joan, you know you’ve done wrong.
He’d called her from the jail, asking her to come pick him up. She’d said it would be good for him to stay the night and that she’d find him in the morning. He’d attempted to apologize, but his words felt wasted.
Finally, as Otis paced in his windowless cell, hating himself for the things he’d done, he heard a noise in the hallway. The clang of metal, the sounds of other inmates. It had to be morning. A guard escorted him and a line of other prisoners to the cafeteria where he ate a dry and stale bagel. Still, all he could think about was her.
Back in his cell, he returned to pacing. Where was Joan?
The wretched coffee still lingered in his mouth when the same guard came to get him. “Playtime’s over.”
Otis glanced at the guard’s night stick, wondering if he’d ever used it.Oh, the places your mind goes when you’ve been cooped up in a cell.He stood from the cot, thankful he wouldn’t have to spend another night here. They returned his clothes and the contents of his wallet, and he changed in a separate room. Then the long walk to freedom, the sun shocking his eyes. Joan stood in the lobby, her arms crossed as if she’d slept that way.
He was hesitant to hug her. As loving as she could be, he didn’t feel much love coming from her at the moment. Stopping a few feet short, he said, “Thank you. I’m sorry you had to come up here.”
“Let’s get you home.” Her matter-of-fact tone was the kind that arises when she was trying to hide her fury.
They climbed into her electric car, and she pulled out of the parking lot and worked her way through the busy intersection and past the mall toward Red Mountain. He was reminded of being in trouble in England as a child. His mother’s silent treatment was the toughest punishment of all.
Otis glanced over at Joan and wondered if she might stay silent the entire twenty-minute ride home. He wished the darn electric car would make a little noise. Something to break the unbearable quiet.
Once they hit the highway, Joan said, “I’ve packed my things.”
Though he’d expected as much, dreaded it really, he wasn’t prepared for the wave of agony that overcame him. What was he to do, though? He had no business with this woman. Everyone had joked that he was the luckiest man on earth to have found her, and they were all correct. What they should have said was that she was the unluckiest woman on earth. They would have been right about that too.
To love Otis was to lash yourself to a sinking ship.
He knew he needed to say something, and he searched for the words. He felt a heaviness inside and thought he might burst into tears. With his eyes on the dashboard, he said, “I’m so ashamed of myself, Joan. More than anything, I hate that I’ve brought you into my world.” He glanced at her. “I’m going mad, and I’m sorry you’ve had to see it.”
A beat went by. “As I’ve said before, we’re bringing each other down. I’m just the one pointing it out.”
“I don’t want you taking the blame,” he said. “This is all me.”
“It’s not all you, honey. It’s me too. I’m just as guilty. Instead of loving you just the way you are, I’ve been trying to change you. And that’s not okay.”
“Well, I do need changing.”
Joan shook her head and moved on. “Don’t think for one moment this is an easy decision for me.” She choked up, and Otis wanted to touch her, but he didn’t want to invade her space. Instead, he let her sadness stab him like a dagger.
“I’d sell my land in an instant to be with you.”
“Oh, c’mon. Then what? We’d go live in Richland at my place? You’d give up on Red Mountain? What would you do with your life? I will not be the reason you leave the wine world.”
He wanted to argue further, but the truth was that he loved her so much that hewantedher to leave him, to find some peace and maybe another lover. He didn’t want to be the one who kept dragging her down. Though he’d like to think he would come around, he wasn’t so sure.
Even the sight of Red Mountain off to the right as they sped down the highway was unnerving. He looked at the shape of the mountain, at the face of her, almost if she were a woman looking back at him. He was losing it all forher. Joan had once rightly called her “the other woman.”
Back home, Otis pushed open the door to find Joan’s three bags and yoga mat lined up in the foyer. A hollowness opened up behind his ribs, and a deep sadness rose up his throat, making it hard to breathe. What had he done? The best thing to ever happen to him, and he’d not stepped up and loved her the way he should have. As much as he did want to set her free, it still wasn’t an easy pill to swallow.
“If you’ll get my things,” she said, “I’m going to say goodbye to Jonathan.”
Otis nodded and reached for the first bag. “You sorry sack,” he said to himself. “What have you done?”
He carried the first two bags down and set them in the trunk of her car. When he turned, he saw her standing at the fence line pressing her face against Jonathan’s muzzle.
