“Just leave me alone, Joshua,” she said faintly.
“If you don’t look after yourself, you can’t heal. If you can’t heal, you can’t remember. You need to eat, rest, and take the pain medication. Give your body the chance to recover. Stop being so bloody stubborn,” I snapped.
Her head shifted and she regarded me in the dim light. “I ate the sandwich, I am resting and I didn’t take the pills because they make me sleepy. I was saving them for later. I took some regular Tylenol. Don’t worry, Joshua. I’m doing everything you want me to do, including staying out of your way. I even brought in some wood so you don’t have to come in here and stoke the fire. I am quite capable of doing so myself.”
I stood looking down at her. “Do you want to come and have some supper with me, Rabbit?”
She sat up. “I told you to stop calling me Rabbit. Why would you want to have supper with me? You’re the one who said to stay out of your way. So, I’m doing that. Or, since you can’t fuck my body, you thought you’d just fuck with my mind instead?” she snapped at me. “At least have a little fun that way?”
I stepped back at the venom in her voice. “I just want to make sure you eat. If I don’t call you Rabbit, what would you like me to call you?”
She stared at me. “Just don’t call me anything. Leave me alone. You’re hurting me, Joshua. You just keep hurting me.” She lay back down and closed her eyes. I could see her chest rising and falling in distressed little gasps of air.
My hand hovered in the air, desperate to touch and soothe her. I pulled it back. I walked to the door and hesitated. “I’m leaving the door open so the air can circulate. It’s really cold outside and I want the house to stay warm. I won’t bother you. Okay?”
“This is your house, Joshua. I’m just the person making you uncomfortable in your own home. Do whatever you want,” she whispered tiredly.
“Call me if you need something, Ra … I’m just down the hall,” I said quietly, my voice sad.
There was no response.
I knew she wouldn’t call.
The silence in the house screamed around me.
I pulled the plow into the barn and got out, slamming the door. I stood looking towards the driveway. It was almost done. The drifts in some places were massive and I had to use not only the plow but the snow blower to clear some of them. I figured I had about another three hundred feet to go before I got to the gate. Then I would start on the dirt road. I sighed, exhausted and in pain again. I glanced towards the house, wondering for the hundredth time what Rabbit was doing. Not a word had been spoken between us in the last two days. When I went into the house for breaks, I would see a washed plate or glass in the drainer. I knew she left them so I would know she was eating. I would hear her moving around when I was downstairs, so I knew she was making sure to only come out of the bedroom when she was sure not to bump into me. I also knew she was sleeping about as little as I was, as I saw the dim light from the lantern burn long into the night as I lay on the sofa. Once she crept out of the bedroom to get a drink and I pretended to be asleep. She stood over the back of the sofa and I felt the blanket being pulled up and around me. I wanted to reach out and capture her hand in mine and talk to her, but she turned away quickly with a soft sigh and walked away. When she did sleep, she often cried out in fright, and more than once, I had snuck in and stroked her hair until she settled, often sighing my name. It took everything I had not to crawl in beside her and pull her into my arms. Bear was her ever-present guard, only sitting with me for short periods and looking as sad as I felt as he walked around the invisible mine fields in the house.
I pulled my hand through my sweat-soaked hair as I made my way back to the house. From the news on the radio about the large disaster area around me, I knew we had at least two weeks before any communication or aid from outside would get through. I wasn’t sure how either of us was going to survive two more weeks.