Off Script
by Shauna Checkley
Stopping at a red light, Harley said, “Do you want to go over to Reg and Wendy’s?” He stared straight ahead as he spoke, being the proper driver that he was.
Soledad groaned inwardly. In her mind’s eye, she pictured the long, strained coffee-gathering where judgment and competition were dispensed as freely as crème and sugar. Yes, those guarded occasions when time moved as slow as a turtle, almost seeming to contract. Should I say anything? Or should I just try and keep the peace, as ever?
She knew that she’d rather have the flu at both ends than go visit those two. But they were family, after all: his family. Wendy was Harley’s half-sister and Reg, her husband. Harley was big on family and keeping bonds and connections going, that was the thing; the problem, really.
“Well, do you or not?” he pressed.
“I’m thinking,” Soledad said.
The light turned green, and they drove on. The city was strangely quiet for an early Sunday afternoon. The streets near deserted, traffic only sporadic.
Recalling the last visit to Reg and Wendy, Soledad frowned. Wendy made jibes over how Harley did the dishes, ordered everyone off their phones, even called Soledad’s legs “pencil-thin.” It was a steady, petty onslaught that Soledad had learned to tune out as if it were a faucet with an aggravating drip. But still the thorns stuck and made her forehead feel like a washboard.
After years of the couple’s games, Soledad and Harley had worked out their own sign language, a pantomime meant to save Soledad when she had finally had enough, offering her a way out. Help, she would mouth to Harley when she could finally catch his eye across the room and signal her desperation to leave. This generally worked, though sometimes more forceful body language was required, like grabbing his wrist. Or pulling his hair. Or kicking him under the table.
Still, Harley was remarkably obtuse and usually content with Wendy’s baking. Homemade cheesecake was enough to captivate his full attention. For it was then that Harley would miss or misinterpret his wife’s gestures entirely. He would sit in stockinged feet, giving helpless shrugs and frowns. Sometimes, she suspected, he even looked away from her on purpose.
And today would likely be no different.
The couple were out for a Sunday drive, though such occasions were becoming fewer as of late, given the high price of gasoline: $1.59 a liter. Still, they took advantage of the pleasant spring weather. They motored around the small prairie city in their navy-blue Honda, seeking a break in the monotony of a long, empty day.
They drove past a plastic bag that the breeze had puffed up into a stinging jellyfish. Occasionally, they heard the splash of mud on the side of their sedan. Harley would remark, “No sense taking it in for a wash when we’re getting sprayed like that.”
Soledad would murmur in agreement.
It was an uneventful day in an unremarkable life, the kind measured out in coffee spoons, trips to the mall or maybe to see a medical specialist of some kind. But not today.
This was more of a drop-in on friends or family kind of day, Reg and Wendy in particular.
Slowing down as they approached another red light, Harley glanced at his wife. “So?”
“I suppose,” Soledad groaned. Wanting only to mollify her husband, to keep the mood light, she braced for the usual misadventures in cups of java and familial relations. Just keep the peace, that’s the best one can do. She slumped slightly in the passenger seat.
“You don’t sound too enthusiastic,” Harley remarked.
“I’ll just make the best of it, as ever” She knew that sometimes he pretended to dread the visits, too, but he was actually salivating for the baking or barbecue. She could call him on it. But really, what good would that do?
Harley turned down Longley Boulevard toward Reg’s and Wendy’s place. Harley was middle-aged and had somewhat of a frumpy air with inexpensive, old-guy clothes, usually flimsy-looking sweatpants and golf shirts. Yet Soledad enjoyed his pleasant, easy manner. It was what everyone either liked about Harley or it led them to try and overrun his boundaries, both tendencies in nearly equal measure.
Finally turning onto Willow Crescent, they began slowing down upon approaching Reg’s and Wendy’s caramel-colored bungalow. The street was a wild spring mess of snowbanks and melting rivulets and mounds of dirty slush. But then a rabbit darted across the road.
“Watch out! Bunny!” Soledad shrieked as fear flashed through her like an electric jolt. Just for an instant she saw the pink button eyes of the creature, too, widen with fear.
Harley turned the steering wheel sharply, hoping to avoid hitting it.
But craning his head to the side, he looked out the window and remarked, “Darn it.”
Stiffening in her seat, Soledad cried, “Don’t tell me you hit the poor thing!”
Harley drove the final ten feet and then pulled into the driveway.
“What are you doing? We can’t just leave it, you know!”
They scrambled out of the car. Soledad ran back to the mound on the street. Harley followed behind her.
With its one front leg at an odd angle and the shoulder area bleeding, the rabbit was making high-pitched squeals.
Soledad shouted, “We gotta do something!” Her face had crumpled into a mass of lines.
Harley looked at the writhing animal and shook his head.
“Get the blanket out of the trunk,” Soledad said. “We can wrap it up and take it to the vet,”
Harley retrieved it and tossed the plush blue blanket to his wife. “I’ll be right back, just a minute,”
“Where are you going?” Soledad said, impatience rising in her voice
But Harley just walked up the driveway and rang the doorbell. Reg answered. The two men appeared to be conferring at the door.
“Hurry up! We need to get it to the vet!” Soledad called. She could barely take her eyes off the moaning animal. Compassionate by nature, she had a deep love for all sentient beings, bunnies especially. Kneeling beside it, she was like a woodland fairy fussing over a downed but beloved fellow creature.
Returning to her side, both men were frowning. “Reg is going to get a hammer,” Harley said. “He agrees it needs to be put down.”
“No way!” Soledad cried. Her voice a mix of horror, fear, and outrage.
By then, Wendy had joined them. “What’s going on out here?” Surprise evident in her voice. She was clad in the expensive Lulu Lemon yoga gear she often wore in her down time, sea-foam and streamlined, like a bitchy mermaid that had crawled out onto land.
“Harley hit a rabbit,” Reg said
“Eww,” Wendy said, her nose curling.
“I’m wrapping it up and we’re going to the vet,” Soledad said
Reg shook his head and said, “Look, just let me get a hammer and put it out of its misery.”
Soledad gave Harley a fierce look: “We’re going to the vet!”
“I think Reg is right,” Wendy opined.
Harley nodded in agreement.
Ignoring the three of them, Soledad knelt closer to the writhing creature. She folded the fuzzy blue blanket in half and slowly and carefully picked up the animal.
It yelped sharply. The hind legs kicked limply. The snowbank became speckled with crimson dots.
“C’mon ,let’s go!” Soledad cried as she scrambled into the passenger seat.
Without a word, Harley climbed back into the driver’s seat.
Reg and Wendy hopped into the back seat.
“This is crazy, just crazy. Don’t you think so, Reg?” Wendy said, her eyebrows arched.
“Ya,” Reg concurred. He was clad in football gear from head to toe. He was so tall and thin that the garments made him look like a walking advertisement. It was the same two-punch operation as ever: Wendy being the opener and Reg, the dutiful closer. This seemingly co-dependent man always had Wendy’s back. An imposing unit they were.
Peeling out of the driveway, Harley said, “I know of a vet close by. So that’s good.”
Leaning forward, Wendy said in a smug, dismissive tone: “Soledad, just let Reg take care of things. It’s for the best after all.”
Focused only on the parcel in her arms, Soledad stared at the wrapped-up rabbit. She held it firmly, so it couldn’t get out of its fleecy enclosure. The once periwinkle blue blanket was stained with red blood smears. But it was those frightened, beady, pink eyes that spoke of anguish and terror that bothered Soledad the most.
Harley barreled up the street.
“Tch, tch,” Wendy clicked her tongue. “Crazy, just crazy... I dunno people.”
But it was when Soledad saw Wendy rolling her eyes to Reg in the rear-view mirror that she lost her composure. Soon Soledad found herself going off-script. Energy flooded her body.
Cranking her neck sideways, Soledad blasted, “We are not crazy for taking it to the vet! Nor do we do the dishes wrong! Or spend too much time on our phones or anything else that you accuse us of! And, by the way, my legs are not pencil-thin; yours are just fat!”
Tap out.
Silence fell. All that could be heard was the sound of the Honda humming.
Soledad felt instant relief, a catharsis like no other. Even though she knew there would likely be repercussions over her outburst, it felt momentarily satisfying. She felt flying-high. Right then, she was caught between the proverbial ecstasy of being aloft and the anticipation of a bumpy landing.
Yet she was amazed by her courage. It felt strange to erupt in such an angry and honest manner. She had never done it to the Crumblehulme’s before. Somehow it had always seemed that it was not even allowed, truth not permitted, frankness non-negotiable. With Wendy’s stony countenance and defensive veneer, there didn’t seem any chink in her armor. Still, there were other things to consider.
Soledad looked at Harley. He had stiffened behind the steering wheel, gripping it so tight his knuckles were white. He stared straight ahead, not meeting her gaze.
Stopped at a red light, the car was full of quiet. The air was palpably tense. Soledad felt the hairs on the back of her neck tingle.
But the bunny trembled in her arms. It’s one leg had kicked loose from the blanket and dangled crooked. Blood was pooling in one corner of the bundle. She heard it moan. Holding the bundle firmly, Soledad cried, “Are we almost there?”
“Just about,” Harley replied. He then made a left turn and pulled into the parking lot of Cathedral Vet Clinic. It was half-empty.
Soledad scrambled out of the car and rushed to the main door.
Inside, the receptionist set the phone down just as Soledad reached the front counter. “Can I help you?”
“There’s been an accident,” Soledad said. “We hit a bunny. We need a vet.”
By now, Harley had joined her at the front desk. Reg and Wendy, however, were seated in the waiting room, whispering back and forth with their heads turned sideways toward one another. It reminded Soledad of a football huddle.
“I’ll go get one,” the receptionist said, disappearing into the back.
Moments later the vet emerged with the receptionist. “Come to the back,” the vet said, motioning towards them.
Soledad carried the squirming bundle like it was the crown jewels and set it down on the square-shaped, metal examination table.
As she unwrapped the sopping blanket, the Vet said, “Let me see here...A broken front leg and a broken hind leg and a laceration that needs to be stitched as well.”
The creature appeared to be in near shock, with its pink eyes rolled slightly back and moaning and trembling. Soledad felt a wave of sympathy for it.
“This is likely going to cost five hundred dollars,” the vet said, “and Bunny will have to be admitted overnight.”
“That’s okay. I’ll pay. Just help the poor thing,” Soledad assured her.
Harley shook his head slightly and made a noise very close to what the rabbit was making.
Soledad spoke sharply to him: “Never mind.” Harley left the examination room.
“Alright, then, we’ll get right to work,” the vet said with a smile.
Soledad returning to the front and sought the receptionist, who took down all needed contact information.
Glancing behind her, Soledad saw that Wendy and Reg were still in their huddle. Probably trying to plot out their next play. But where’s Harley? Likely went to the car.
When done at the counter, Soledad made a beeline for the car. Wendy and Reg followed at a distance behind her.
“So, what’s going on?” Harley queried
“They are going to call tomorrow when it’s ready for pick-up.”
“Uh huh, then what?”
Soledad stared at him. “I guess we’ll just have to keep it out in the garage. We can use that big dog carrier that’s out there. It can heal and recover there.”
Harley nodded. When they were all in the car, he pulled out of the parking lot and began driving back to Wendy and Reg’s place.
Once more, the air felt strained to Soledad, the car claustrophobic, confining. She assumed that her in-laws were ready to descend on her as if she were carrion. But all were quiet.
What next? What is Wendy is going to say? Are we all about to spar? Soledad felt she was in a performance piece with dark, complicated characters surrounding her. Or a tawdry soap opera that had suddenly spun out of control.
Gazing at Harley, she wondered at his passivity. She wondered if his mildness was too mild, a simulacrum of ease rather than the real thing. Or was he just a big wuss? It was hard to tell. Yet she felt that the latter was likely the case.
Soledad could hear murmurings in the back seat. What are they up to? What are they saying? Wendy probably wants me in wrist restraints in the psych ward. She shut her eyes and wished she could be transported back home as in Star Trek and be sitting on the sofa, as ever, where the fabric had worn thin and she could see the white muslin skin beneath it and listen to ironic folk bands, then ironic string bands.
But she knew there was no such luck. She was trapped for the time being, really no better off than the bunny.
When they finally turned off of Longley Boulevard and onto Willow crescent, Soledad felt somewhat relieved. Yet she grimaced when she saw the labyrinth of snowbanks, icy ruts, and melting pools of dirty muck that had contributed to the day’s confusion.
Harley pulled into their driveway. Soledad braced for a possible tongue-lashing.
But Wendy quietly offered, “If you’d like to come in, I could put some chamomile tea on. It might be for the best, y’know. It helps in these kinds of things.”
Will it be rinse and repeat? Or has a sort of quiet quitting taken place? A second voice had risen in Soledad, distinct from the first a few moments ago. Both voices sought to be heard.
“You’re sure that’s no trouble?” Soledad said. She tried to sound casual, mildly curious in hopes of drawing out the woman’s true intentions.
Wendy nodded.
Soledad smiled at the gentle changeling before her. The atmosphere had seemingly lightened and lessened. And it was then that she decided to take a chance. It’s always so much better to just try and keep the peace. “Thanks, sweets,” Soledad said.
They all piled out of the car.
Copyright © 2023 by Shauna Checkley
