Nameless
by Aaron Willis
Edith had a husband. Once he had been charming, entertaining, and his love of wine was endearing. Over the years, it became less so. The drink turned him, or had it revealed him? How many lies had been spun and were they caused by or blamed on, the wine? Perhaps he had always had a loose affiliation with truth and the wine and years made him poorer at concealing it. Whichever the case, she felt stuck. Since she had two daughters with him she felt powerless to leave or make demands to change.
They dwelled in the city by a cliff which had taken to rumbling the past few weeks. Only the more sensitive took note of this as the tremors were slight and short lived. Edith was keenly aware and felt something bigger was coming.
One night, Edith awoke and realized her husband was not in bed. She had thought him too drunk to rouse even to use the chamber pot. A murmur in the next room made her sit up. A sound of cloth rustling, whispering and stifled sobbing.
Her husband exited that room, staggered back to bed, drool and wine in his beard. He fell to snoring almost immediately. The stifled sobs continued. Edith began to rise but her husband’s arm flung over her and he said “Just a bad dream. She had a bad dream is all.” Pinned by the deadweight of his arm, the lateness of the hour and the sobs ebbing, Edith succumbed to sleep.
The next morning Edith and her two daughters went to the square to sell their wares, mostly fabrics and clay pots. The daughters were sullen and tired-looking. The younger looked to have light bruises on her wrists. When asked about it, she stared at a far off point and dully stated, “A bad dream.” The older daughter had the same haunted expression but she looked into her mother’s eyes pleadingly for a second before the hope faded again. Edith had a sick feeling in her stomach as a gnawing suspicion solidified. The cliff rumbled like a hungry belly which made the hairs on Edith’s arm stand up.
Around noon, Edith’s husband came into the square with a young man and woman she’d never seen before. From the looks of their red faces and laughing demeanor they had been drinking. Edith’s daughters shriveled noticeably as he approached. “There she is, my wife. These are my friends ha ha ha, my new friends, they are from...it’s their first time here. It’s a great city, right? Great people.” Edith’s husband’s gaze kept on the swaying couple, but moreso the young woman.
“I ran out of coin at the tavern,” at this, Edith’s husband made a great display of patting himself down and shrugging, “and I thought I can’t have more wine and these two, these two angels they said ‘here share with us’ and (clapped hands) best of friends! Ha ha ha ha!”
The young man said, “We will sleep in the square tonight...”
Edith’s husband waved his hands. “No, no, no, you must stay with us, there is more than enough room. I have bread and wine. You cannot stay in the square. Thieves, bad people, this city is terrible. We are the only good ones. They will try to take your wife from you. You both (his eyes lingering on the young woman) will stay with us. I insist.” The cliff rumbled so that an applause of little pebbles trickled down the rockface.
When Edith and the girls arrived home, the laughter could be heard through the door and echoing down the street. The couple and Edith’s husband were more in their cups than before. The young woman looked to be about ten minutes from passing out. Empty clay pots were strewn here and there. The young man was standing patting himself down. “Whole sack of coins somewhere. Ha ha ha.”
Edith’s husband produced a satchel she had never seen before and fished out some coins, put them in the young man’s palm. “Here you can have some of mine, I owe you anyhow.”
The young man squinted and smiled. “Your draw bag looks similar to mine.” Edith’s husband clapped him on the back. “That’s why we are such good friends! We like the same things! Now run and get more wine. Maybe my wife and daughters can show you where to go, ha ha ha.”
Edith eyes the young woman writhing on the floor. “I have to start supper, dear. And I wouldn’t want our guest to have a bad dream.” The husband had an icy gaze for a split second then he shrugged and sat on the floor as the young man went out the door in search of more wine.
After a few minutes, a knock on the door roused the young woman who had nodded off for a second. Edith’s husband leapt to his feet. “He’s back already! Excellent!” As he flung open the door, an old man with cap in hand swayed, his milky eyes darting here and there trying to stitch sound into a sense of area. “Could you spare some coin for a...”
Edith’s husband shoved him backward onto the cobblestones. “No, and never come here again. There’s nothing for you here, beggar!” He slammed the door. The young woman sat up, invigorated by the noise. “What was that?”
The husband pointed at her. “He was after you! He said ’Give me that pretty thing you have inside.” The young woman hugged her knees to her chest. Another knock at the door, this time it was the young man with more clay pots of wine.
The husband sat on the floor pouring the rich purple liquid into wooden tumblers. “You missed it. A whole group of people were at the door. Half the whole town, they were wanting to drag your wife outside and have their way with you. And they also wanted to do the same to you! But you’re safe here. We are the good people. And because they wanted to cause you harm, the Lord struck them all blind. Edith, wasn’t that a blind man, blind men at the door?”
Edith nodded like a wounded animal who dared not upset everything. The daughters saw her eyes fall, understanding. Suddenly the cliff shook violently and a blast of heat rushed in through the windows. The husband stood up and gestures wildly. “See? You see? This terrible city and those terrible people are going to be destroyed!”
Edith reaches her limit and shouted out “Liar!” But it was drowned out by a rumble and explosion. They ran outside into crowds of running people. A glowing trickle was sliding down the cliff toward town. Screams and footfalls echoed.
Edith instructed her daughters to run to nearby Zoar. She grabbed her husband and pulled him back toward the house. Rumbling intensified. “Grab as much as you can,” she said. In a quick time they loaded themselves with fabrics and pots. The husband tried to grab a flask of wine. Edith, unsure if she could even be heard over the other noise shrieked “I am done with the lies! I’m done with your drinking! I’m done with you touching our daughters! I’m done with you! In Zoar no one knows us and I will claim to not know you! You make me sick!”
It felt good to finally say all her thoughts out loud but the husband didn’t seem to react so she was certain he hadn’t heard.
They clattered out of town up the opposite hill. Edith was ahead of him and he fell behind and dropped all he was carrying. “Help me! Help me, please!” She heard pain and pleading in his voice, even fear. Edith stopped, closed her eyes, and turned back. It had been an act. Her husband shoved her down and then kicked her down the hillside. He called down, “No one knows us in Zoar. I can tell whatever stories I want and they’ll believe me. How my daughters got me drunk and took advantage of me to continue our bloodline. Think of that!”
With that he disappeared over the top of the hill. Edith writhed in pain at the bottom of the hill. Her ankle was bent at an unnatural angle and flopped when she lifted her leg up. She couldn’t put any weight on it as she crawled up the hill. The rumbling got louder and louder behind her and then there was an ear splitting explosion. Edith turned to see a fast-moving cloud of ash barreling toward her. Her body became encased and baked in the ash and poisonous gases. After everything cleared, her body stuck out from the hillside resembling a white pillar.