r i g h t  h a n d  p o i n t i n g

short fiction  short poetry  short commentary  short..uh..art

 

 

     
  Driving North

Manfred Gabriel
 

 


I never thought I would sit down just then. “I’m on my way, I’m coming,” I told her on the phone. Her voice sounded strong, clear, despite the pains that were coming faster now. I hung up and I sat down.

From the chair by the phone I looked across the room at my coat. It seemed gray and old. I should get up and put it on and go to her. It would be cold outside by now, I would need the coat. All I could think of was her face looking up at mine. How she had put her little hand in my hand and had asked, “are we leaving?” I hadn’t even really looked at her on that cold morning, just glanced at her, before looking up again, looking at the sky: north. “Yes,” I had replied, “I am leaving,” and then I had picked her up, lifted her into the front seat of the car, checked that I had fit everything into the back. I remember thinking, I don’t care if he wakes up now, as I turned the ignition and drove off, drove for three days, north.

Twenty-five years. Putting her through school, braces, that bloody face on prom night, Tom. The way he didn’t look at her when they drove off after the wedding in a convertible. But she had turned back, waving. I had looked, really looked at her face then, but it was shrinking, drawn into the distance. How often had I told myself nothing would scare me, nothing would be hard again, after waking up that day and driving north with her.

I was still looking at my coat. All I could hear was her voice in my head, asking me. Asking me again, “are we leaving?” She needs me, I told myself, she is waiting for me. The baby will come any minute now. She is waiting for me. She needs me.

Then I got up. The floor creaked as I walked across to the door. I put on my gray coat. I glanced at the mirror, I took my keys. I don’t care if I wake up now, I told myself on the way to the hospital, driving north.

 

 

 

Table of Contents

Manfred Gabriel moved to the U.S. in 1997. He divides his time
between Western Massachusetts and New York City, where he works as a lawyer.
This is his first published piece of fiction.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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