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Chapter 27
Ream called Sally.
"Hello Ream.
It's good to hear your voice. I've been meaning to call, but we've had
a death in the family. I've been sad and depressed, and haven't felt like
talking to anyone."
"I understand. Mrs.
Mead told me of your son's death. I'm very sorry to hear of it, Sally.
Please accept my heartfelt condolences. I wish there was something I could
do to comfort you."
"Thank you, Ream. He
lived with severe heart problems for a long time. At the end he made peace
with himself, and a lot of people go without ever having made that peace.
I suppose I should be grateful, but it doesn't make his passing any less
painful; you don't get used to it right away. It's still soaking in."
"I understand. Sally,
I need to tell you about something I did because I just can't leave it
hanging in mid air."
"Yes, Go on."
"I know we haven't
met in person yet, and I don't feel like I belong to that side of your
life, but when I heard about your son's death, I wanted to do something.
It may have been foolish, but I did it anyway."
"Oh?" Sally was perplexed.
"Mrs. Mead drove me
to the cemetery service. I wanted to be there, and to remain in the background.
It made me feel as if I was carrying part of your burden. I needed to do
something, and being there made me recognize how much I care about what
happens to you."
"Thank you Ream. Your
doing that doesn't surprise me. That's part of why I've grown so fond of
you also."
"That's just it, Sally.
I know this may not be the best time to bring this up, but I need
to say some things. Actually, I have become very attached to you because
of our phone conversations. Being at the cemetery made me realize how much."
"Ream, I have also
opened myself to you, maybe more than I thought I might be capable of,
or maybe we just have the right keys to each others' locks."
"Sally, there is something
I must tell you now. It's not that I intended to mislead you, but it never
seemed appropriate to bring into our conversations. And I didn't want it
to interfere with our friendship. But I think you should know now. Sally,
I'm handicapped."
Silence.
"I don't know quite
how to respond," said Sally.
"It's a major affliction,
something irreversible, and it would probably come between us or snuff
out what has already been ignited. What has happened between us is maybe
better left as a memory."
Unconsciously, Ream
did not want to divulge the specifics of his handicap because it meant
he would have to relive the whole event that caused it. He could then also
avoid divulging that he had met her in person at the Poets' Gathering,
which would require additional explanation in this painful moment.
Since Ream had been
thrown off the horse, he had been taking a hard look at everything in his
life including Sally. The reality of trying to reach too high was
registering. He recognized his secret wishes might never be realized. Things
in his life were looking different to Ream, as if he had just awakened
from an illusion.
"Sally, I'm handicapped
and I should have told you before it got to this point. Our phone romance
has been a beautiful fantasy, but it can't ever be more than that, a fantasy.
I have been kidding myself, but worse, I may have led you on. It was a
foolish wish. I'm sorry, so sorry."
Coupled with the depression
resulting from Johnny's death, this news tumbled Sally from her feet into
a chair. Inside her being, the pieces she was struggling to reassemble
were again broken apart. She bit her lip in resolve to hold back tears
which defied her control and wetness seeped into her eyes.
Ream continued, "I
think the best thing at this time is for us to disconnect. Maybe some other
place or time things would be different. Maybe if I had been fully adjusted
to my affliction. It's just not right now."
Sally was stunned and
not able to react. She could not grasp words from the air. Her spirit stammered.
The moment rolled over her.
Only courtesy remained
as Sally said, "You're probably right, because I have been holding back
something about myself as well. In many ways, I'm not really a whole woman
either. I have my own deficiencies."
Her outside began to
cave into the devastation as if all her blood drained to the bottom of
her feet and then beyond.
She was empty and cold
as she hung up the phone to his, "Good-bye, Sally."
Ream felt a tremendous
relief in his disclosure. He felt validation that he had done the right
thing in ending the budding romance. For him, he felt he had set them both
free of unreconcilable obstacles, although the pit of his stomach felt
empty and sore.
His self-reassurance
ended abruptly when Mrs. Mead walked in. "I just heard you say good-bye
to Sally. I'm so glad you're good friends. When I saw her at the funeral,
I was very impressed by her strength and on the other hand, very sympathetic
too. When her husband and sons left, she was there all alone. She didn't
seem to have any relatives, so it must be a great comfort for her to have
you to talk to."
Ream was torn further
apart and at a loss for words when Mrs. Mead left for the kitchen. It would
seem cruel to destroy her good wishes, and he wasn't up to explanations.
In the face of her comments, his well-planned renunciation seemed harsh
in retrospect. In his emptiness Ream felt regardless of his handicap he
didn't have much to offer Sally and she was probably better off without
him. There was someone better for her out there. Surely Sally wasn't so
attached to him that she'd become over invested or even hurt.
With those thoughts,
he tried to comfort himself. Still, was she really alone in the world?
He didn't know. What if she really needed his friendship? What if
by some strange chance she loved him and now he'd killed that love and
any hope of happiness for both of them. Too late now though, he would have
to live without knowing what happened to her and if he had made the worst
possible decision of his life.
Ream didn't sleep much
that night. The passing hours were drudgery and when morning came, he couldn't
see the tiniest ray of the sun in the day, or in his future. He took a
shower and dressed and knew he would have to endure living as if in an
empty dark cavern for the next few days.
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