Zachary Bede was sitting alone in the front room when his wife came in from their bedroom.
"He's in bed at last," she announced.
"That took a while," he replied.
"He wanted a lullaby."
"You'll spoil him, Maria."
"He just likes music, I think. Didn't you noticed how he turned his head during the Mayfair when the music came on?"
"He's in bed at last," she announced.
"That took a while," he replied.
"He wanted a lullaby."
"You'll spoil him, Maria."
"He just likes music, I think. Didn't you noticed how he turned his head during the Mayfair when the music came on?"
He had not noticed. His wife always seemed to notice things he didn't. She usually knew more about his parishioners than he did.
"He's a bit old for lullabies," he told her. "Soon enough he'll be ready to be read to every night."
"Read to?"
"The Bible."
"Oh." She found where she had left her sewing, on the bench near the front door.
"He's a bit old for lullabies," he told her. "Soon enough he'll be ready to be read to every night."
"Read to?"
"The Bible."
"Oh." She found where she had left her sewing, on the bench near the front door.
"How long do you mean to be sewing that?"
"What do you mean?"
"When do you mean to come to bed?"
"What do you mean?"
"When do you mean to come to bed?"
Maria said nothing for a moment.
Suddenly Zachary couldn't bear it any longer.
"Why, Maria? What keeps you from it? It's not your sewing, is it? When are you coming to bed?"
"Why, Maria? What keeps you from it? It's not your sewing, is it? When are you coming to bed?"
Maria had an odd expression on. Zachary wished he understood expressions better. He did not know what she was thinking.
"Later," she said quietly. "Late."
"Later," she said quietly. "Late."
Zachary did not know what to do. "Maria," he dared to say at last. "I've done my duties, kept my promises. You have your home, don't you? Our child? I even let your aunt live here. I've done a husband's duty. But you are--cold towards me, as if I were a stranger. It's--ungrateful of you!"
Maria was trembling. Zachary had no idea what to do.
She stood up. "Let's go to bed, dear."
She stood up. "Let's go to bed, dear."
"I am not seeking a--a--a faster way to fall asleep, Maria. I am seeking my wife. What about your duties? What about comforting and honoring and cherishing me? What about--loving me? You promised to love, didn't you? Or have you forgotten your wedding vows entirely?"
Maria was crying now. She went to stand in front of the fire, her tears glinting in the flickering light.
Maria was crying now. She went to stand in front of the fire, her tears glinting in the flickering light.
Zachary felt guilty and indignant at the same time. He still could not imagine what he ought to do. He realized that Maria was the one person who he never quite felt comfortable giving a sermon to. 
The fire crackled on stoically. Maria suddenly turned back towards him. She had pulled her hair out.
"I think I'll go to bed now."
"I think I'll go to bed now."
"Maria!"
She walked towards the doorway. Just when he was sure she really meant to leave, she turned around.
"I'm sorry!" she choked.
"I'm sorry!" she choked.
She left the room. Zachary was quite alone again. But now he realized he had been alone all along.
3 comments:
Whoa... that was pretty intense. I kind of assumed their marriage was a 'cold' one, especially with how Maria reacted with the sheet music issue. But now, it's so clear. I wonder if it was an arranged marriage? I feel for both of them, and for their child...
I agree. That was intense--hard to read. The pictures too were very effective, particularly that next-to-last one of Zachary. He really looks like a man who doesn't know what to do.
I feel sorry for him now because of that, but how can expect warm affection when he himself is so stiff and cold? He doesn't even like his wife singing to their child?
Yeah, I do feel a bit sorry for Zachary too. But also for Maria... he does seem to be a cold man. But I guess he is trying to understand... it must be hard for him to understand what is wrong. Oh dear.
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