Then it was no longer about minor things. Elena hardly spoke with him – spent her whole days tidying their small house, re-doing everything again and again. She would not allow him near her. “Stop hovering, will you? I’m doing the carpet.” “I’m cleaning the windows, don’t you see?”
Then it was worse. She stopped sleeping with him. “Sorry, I’m tired.” “I have a headache.” The common excuses used by all the wives in the world who will not sleep with their husbands.
But why?! Why did he fail to make her happy? Himself, he loved her as before. No, not as before, but more passionately every day. Even her coldness and aloofness filled him with ever greater passion mixed with anguish at her being unhappy and him being unable to do anything about it.
She no longer shared the bedroom with him. “You snore.” That was a lie, he did not snore. There had been a time when the young Kurt – a big guy weighing over two hundred pounds – snored like a Harley Davidson bike, but he had lost that habit in his tours where snoring in an alien territory could cost a mercenary his life.
Elena slept in another room now, and soon she almost stopped leaving her room, hiding there all day long. Her house chores she had given up.
He was desperately groping for answers. Suddenly he was aware that he hardly knew his wife. He adored her, but did not really know her. What were her favorite dishes, wines? Books, movies? Maybe they used to play some table games in the evenings? He did not remember anything.
He was sure he could not have hurt her in any way. He could not – now. But what about before? Maybe their marriage was overcast by a shadow from something bad in their past life which he had clean forgotten?
Dispirited, he gave up his farm model. All day long, he was sitting in the basement, staring at the brick wall, trying to remember something important.
Some recollections started emerging, though it was a hard process, his whole self resisting it.
It was just some pictures, like a silent movie. Now they were having a row, him shouting something and her shouting back. Now she was smashing crockery, and he was grabbing her rudely, giving her a slap. She would ran away and hid in the bathroom. He would break down the door, burst in and take her by force.
He was appalled. “Bastard, swine! How could I?”
He was different now – an understanding, caring man. The thought of raising his hand against the woman he loved was revolting to him. However, it appeared that no amount of understanding and care could make Elena forget their bad past.
The unfinished farm model was an eyesore to him now. “Dream on, idiot! She doesn’t want to see you, and you expect her to go shovel manure with you.” He grabbed a hammer and smashed to pieces the whole farm: house, barn, shed, and all the rest of it.
To heal a wound, one needed to get to it.
What had they been quarreling about? His memory was dumb, as if wadded with cotton wool.
Yet, there was someone who was certain to know all the reasons and details of their quarrels. Margo, his precious mother-in-law.
“Margo?”
He had been prepared for Margo being displeased to hear him but he had not expected her to go screaming right away.
“You scumbag! Murderer! How dare you call me!”
“Margo, I only meant to ask…”
“Bastard! Do you even understand that the poor girl had her jaw put back together from pieces? Do you know how many sutures they placed on her face?
He wanted to ask something else but halted. What jaw? What sutures?
His mother-in-law went on raging. According to her, he was the worst man on Earth, a fiend from hell.
“I hope you’ll get killed off in that jungle!”
“I’m done with that work, Margo. I meant to ask you about Elena…”
“Don’t you dare! Do you hear me? Don’t you dare hound her. She has found herself a decent man and she’s happy with him. And you live with that doll of yours. Society of people is not for you!”
She hung up.
He kept sitting for a while staring at the phone receiver which was emitting short beeps. Then he got up and circled the living room aimlessly several times.