One Page #21

I do not know which of us did it, but maybe it doesn’t matter anymore. I still think about it though, and feel the stabbing pang of guilt. We both stood side by side watching it fall, pausing a moment in mid air as if trying to decide whether it wanted to go all the way down or maybe bounce back upright. It fell. It shattered. We watched. Our hands were trembling a little bit, and the hairs on my arm stood up straight. But the fire burned in the hearth and the yellow-orange light flickered in our eyes and warmed our cheeks to a blush. I heard you make a noise and when I looked over at your face I saw you were laughing. You tried to hide it for a moment, but that moment passed and you were throwing shrieks at the ceiling, howling into the rafters that were so far above our heads that it was nighttime dark up there. I expected the stars to be shining, but there was nothing there. I thought I saw a bat fly from one beam to another, but I could have imagined that. I looked back at your laughing that was waning slightly now, and smiled at the twinkle in your eyes. They shone like the stars that were absent from above and looking into them I fell weightless into the distance over treetops and oceans tumbling and continents adrift. You pulled me higher and higher and you held my hand tightly promising never to let go. You laughter echoed into the heavens now and I thought I saw angels blowing horns that raised your laughter into song and the melody still plays in my ears now as I lie in bed looking at the ceiling under comforters and quilts and orange flannel sheets that have been washed over and over and feel like the softness of your cheek against mine in the early morning sunshine when our eyes are still fresh to the dawn and the rooster is cackling outside with the chickens clucking around him and we throw corn and seed from our bedroom window in arcs across the lawn. But I think back to why you were laughing and I feel the guilt again like a rock tumbling around in my stomach and I cringe at the memory of the awful shattering that echoed throughout the room as shards jumped into the fire and sizzled with a hiss into smoke that coiled up through the chimney and was released out into the night sky scenting the air and pervading the noses of passers by who looked into our lit windows with envy of the warmth and safety that we endured, not hearing the cackling and not seeing the scattered shards and not peering into the rafters at the elusive bat who tumbled around in the darkness. I looked out at their faces peering in and I held your hand in the shadows where no one could see and I smiled towards your dancing eyes that blinked away tears.