Hands Of Time [Chapter 5]

The young woman [she was really but a girl] was crying, her chest was heaving up and down as she sobbed. She was looking into the face of the young man, her tears making channels down both of her cheeks. She was very afraid; she was telling him that her father could never know about what had happened, they had to hide it from him. Because they were across the room I could only make out bits and pieces of their conversation. So I tried to read their body language and the expressions of their faces to try to get a clearer story. As I stood watching I could tell that she wanted him to support her, encourage her, protect her but he did none of these things. This would have entailed him playing the role of a man, taking responsibility, doing what was right, sacrificing his wants and needs for hers. But he was obviously but a boy and lacked the moral and emotional fiber that she seemed to cry out for. He stood there for a long moment looking very distant in his eyes like he was trying to find some way of escape. As I looked at his face I saw a resemblance to the callused, hard-hearted individuals out on the front yard. As the young man spoke he tried to convince her that he wanted what was best for her but neither his words nor his actions gave witness to this truth. As I watched this drama I all of a sudden became aware of another player who had been oblivious to me up to this point. The young girl was holding a child in her arms, close to her body. As she spoke to the young man she rocked the child back and forth. My eyes must have been playing tricks on me in the dim lit attic because at times the child seemed but an infant but then for a couple split second flashes the child appeared to be the same age, if not older, then the young girl holding it. I shook my head and blinked my eyes when this phenomenon happened and suddenly the child appeared to be but an infant again. Even though I couldn’t catch all of their words I now knew that the baby was an integral ingredient to what was happening up here. Now the puzzle began to take shape! The missing piece had been found and the picture was beginning to manifest its story. The young man did not want the child, nor the responsibilities and cares that went with it. The young girl also seemed fearful of all the consequences that this young child would bring into her life. She knew that this child would severely strain the other crucial relationships in her life. Relationships that she highly valued and was not convinced would remain the same if her ties with the child were to continue. It was like floating in a sea of ignorance and suddenly being hit by the wave of understanding! Everything made sense; I knew why the death squad was at my house! It was not for my children downstairs but for this child up in my attic! The young couple embraced one another both crying in each other’s arms. Their tears intermingled like converging rivers. Each one’s tear’s was because of the child, although for very different personal reasons. Their embrace slackened as she pulled her head back from his, so as to look into his face. Both of the youngsters looked deep into eyes of the other, hers searching for something that she could not seem to find, and his evading all true contact at any cost. Then he pushed her away from him, but I noticed that he did so without the use of any physical force. By his inaction he forced her to make the first move. As her arms left embracing him they instinctively went again to holding the child. I again shook my head, how could I have missed the child being there between them? As she moved away she turned toward the window facing out toward the front yard. He simultaneously turned his back on her and busied himself, occupying his energies on not getting involved in what she was doing. There he stood, like an ostrich, burying his head in the sand, ignorant of all that she was doing and going through. He slowly moved in the direction that was opposite to the window. He walked until he reached the far corner of the room. There he stopped and stood alone with himself. In the corner was an old mirror that hung on the wall, it was into this that the young man focused his attention, busying himself with his favorite person.