Snow Day...............................William Andrews

been to the pharmacy in a while. No sickness here. I prided myself on taking care of my health.

“Just picked up another refll.” Jerry stepped into the room.

I smiled seeing him. Forty-fve years of marriage will do that. Was it forty-fve? His once jet-black hair had grayed, but he still pulled it of. He set a white paper bag down on the counter, softly rattling the pills inside.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

“You know what it is, honey.” He strained to say honey as if I had asked him the same question

before.

“Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll just ask Michael later. He always knows the secrets you’re holding onto.” I chuckled, turning back to the oven. Te turkey was defnitely ready now.

“Michael?” he questioned.

“When he comes over for dinner, silly. It’s Tanksgiving.” I shook my head, smiling at how forgetful my husband could be.

Jerry sighed loudly. “I’m sorry, Madi. I should have gotten the prescription renewed yesterday. Tis is my fault.”

I turned away from the oven as he put his palm to his forehead. “What’s wrong, Jerry?”

“Just take this,” he said, pulling out a yellow bottle of pills. He untwisted the lid and gently shook one pill out into his hand. Ten he grabbed a glass from the cabinet.

“What are you doing?”

He flled the glass up with water. “Just take this, honey. Ten we can talk.”

“I’m not going to take something I don’t need. What’s it for?”

“It’s for your mind, Madi. It’s to help you remember.”

Remember? I didn’t need any help remembering. If anything, Jer-

ry was the one who could use some help. “My mind? Have you been day drinking again Jerry? You need to quit that flthy habit.”

“I haven’t had a drink in two years, Madi.” His face was now tight. He took a deep breath and calmed himself before speaking again. “Please just take the pill; it always helps you think.”

“Well, I don’t need any help thinking. Michael’s going to hear all about this when he gets back––you falling of the wagon again. Shameful. On Tanksgiving, too.” I shook my head in disgust.

“Tanksgiving? Have you been outside today, Madilyn?”

I shuddered. I hated it when he called me Madilyn.

“It’s not ninety degrees outside in November! It’s June for God’s sake!”

Maybe it wasn’t Tanksgiving, but I was making turkey and pumpkin pie. It was Tanksgiving alright.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, pulling a joke like this on a holiday. But I’ll be damned if––”

“It’s not a joke Madilyn! It’s not Tanksgiving! Michael is not coming to eat with us!”

“Why the hell not? Don’t come into my house and start spreading lies you––”

“Because he’s dead!”

Everything stopped. Te oven mitts on my hands fell to the foor.

“Our son is dead, Madi.”

“No,” I said, shaking. “No, no, no.”

“Yes, Madi. He’s been dead for years now. Remember the car crash? He and Ashley both.”

Ashley. Michael’s wife. How could I have forgotten about Ashley? Michael. My baby boy. He was gone. Te turkey. I forgot about the turkey.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. “I’ve burnt the turkey. Michael’s going to be so disappointed.”

“Michael can’t be disappointed,

I smiled seeing him. Forty-fve years of marriage will do that. Was it forty-fve?

Woodberry Forest School 87

honey. He’s gone.” Jerry moved behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry Madi, but he’s gone. Tere is no turkey.”

I opened the oven. It was empty. “But the garlic … the rosemary.” I slammed the oven door shut and hurried to the refrigerator. Te pumpkin pie was gone. None of this made any sense. He couldn’t be gone. He was our son. Tears fooded my eyes. “Michael,” I sobbed. “Our sweet boy.”

Jerry came over and held me tight. “Shh. Everything will be okay.”

Time froze around us. Jerry hugged me. I don’t know how long I sobbed. How long do you cry when your son dies? “We, we need to …” I snifed, the tears fnally slowing. “We need to plan a funeral. We’ve got to tell everyone.” I couldn’t stop shaking. “Tere’s so much to do. We need to––”

“Oh Madi, stop.” Jerry squeezed me even tighter. “Please just take this. You’ve been sick Madi, sick for a while now.” He handed me the pill. “Tis will help. It’ll make everything alright.”

I didn’t believe him. I wasn’t sick, but I needed to take the pain away. I grabbed the pill and swallowed it. “Jerry … when did this happen?” I looked up at him. “How long has it …” I couldn’t fnish the question.

“Five years ago, Madi. Five years ago on ... Tanksgiving. v Written under the mentorship of Kent Myers

88 Te Talon 2022