Manna and Other Stories

By Jamie Hathaway

The collection of works is primarily short stories. Each piece contains a universal theme about humanity. Manna is an experiment in genre. Weeping Willlow explores mental illness while The Burden of Israel questions mans role with one another.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 8, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504928878

Jamie Hathaway

Jamie Hathaway is an adjunct English instructor. She enjoys yoga and photography. She lives in Tarboro with her husband and four children.

Book preview

© 2015 Jamie Hathaway. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 08/07/2015

ISBN: 978-1-5049-2886-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-2887-8 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

The Paralysis of Loss

The Burden of Israel

Snow Leopard

The Weeping Willow

A Good Name

Costly Vengeance

Forbidden

Manna: An Experiment in Genre

Manna : Part 2

Epilogue

About the Author

THE PARALYSIS OF LOSS

36478.png

The next morning I wheeled Elizabeth to our minivan. She said she could walk just fine, but it was hospital policy. The ride home was silent. She wouldn’t look at me. She just rested her head on the window and traced the outline of the side mirror over and over again. I didn’t really feel like talking either, so I leaned forward and turned on the radio. I thought some music would be soothing, anything to break up the deafening silence in our minds and our hearts. I flipped through the stations until I heard Marvin Gaye. I paused to Let’s Get It On. I used to love that song. Elizabeth awoke from her daze and said, Will you turn it off?

Well I can, but I kind of like this song. You remember that weekend we spent in Miami? I remember playing this just before …

Just before I got pregnant. What are you trying to do, make me feel worse?

"I wasn’t trying to do anything. I was just talking to you. I didn’t mean to remind you of … the baby."

Just drop it Greg. I’m sorry. I’m just a little on edge I guess.

I turned off the radio and we drove the rest of the way in silence. Elizabeth and I had been married for five years. She’s a fourth grade teacher and I’m an insurance salesman. We’ve been wanting to start a family for a while now. We tried for a few months and when it seemed like it was never going to happen, she got pregnant. We’d taken a trip to Miami to see her family. There must have been something in the water, because her sister’s pregnant too. She’s only three months. We just bought this minivan last month because we wanted a family car. I never noticed before how long the headliner is and how enclosing it feels. On the ride home I couldn’t help but notice that the van smelled strongly of pine.

I think I’m going to lie down when we get home. I’m feeling a little tired. If anyone calls, tell them I’m sick.

Ok Elizabeth. I think she just didn’t want to face anyone. We just need to get back to our regular routine. If I think about it I won’t be able to handle it. I’ve got to keep moving.

While Elizabeth slept, I went into the nursery. We were getting ready to install the new teddy bear printed wall paper. I figured I would save Elizabeth the trouble, so I moved the paper and paint and things to the attic. I put the high chair and car seat up there too. I’d started to disassemble the crib when she walked in.

What do you think you’re doing?

I’m clearing out the nursery until later. It’s easier this way.

Easier for what? To forget? Well I won’t forget her just because you have!

Wait a minute. I haven’t forgotten her. I’m trying to help you.

"You don’t know what it’s like. It’s not your body. She was growing inside of me … me. . . not you! You don’t know!"

"You think because I’m a man I don’t feel her loss. I’m her father! I feel every ounce of pain that you do.

There’s no way you’re hurting as much as me; you can’t even let her stuff stay in here. You’ve got to get it out so everything will be like it was. Well it’ll never be like it was, Greg, never!

She picked up a Precious Moments pillow and tossed it. She threw it so hard that she lost her balance. She was toppling over, so I grabbed her.

Let go of me! She sailed in on me. Banging her fists into my chest, she shouted. All I could do was grab her arms and try to settle her down, but she didn’t want me to touch her. She threw her body on the floor and started folding the baby gowns and onesies I’d set aside to pack up for now. I can’t take this. I know she’s upset, but so am I. We don’t have to let it destroy us too.

I’m going out.

I stepped outside and I loathed the sight of that van. How would I look driving a van with just me and no family? I thought to myself that I should just return the van. I wasn’t sure how Elizabeth felt, but I knew that I didn’t want it. It might not make sense monetarily, but some things are just bigger than money. What would it hurt to cut our losses with a vehicle when we had already experienced so much real loss? Then my cell phone rang. It was my mother-in-law, and I hoped that if anyone could help, she could.

Hey I was just getting ready to leave. She’s not doing well at all. We were just fighting.

You two never fight. Maybe my little girl needs me. I can be there in a few hours.

No. Thanks, Connie, but she doesn’t want any visitors; not me, not you, not anybody. Call back later and maybe she’ll feel differently.

Alright. I’ll give her some time. But don’t leave her. She needs you there even if she says she doesn’t.

*     *     *

A couple days passed and I was riding home from work. My Honda was in the shop so I was driving that van. As I pulled into my driveway I felt smothered. I’d never been claustrophobic in my life, but I found it so hard to breathe. I began to cry a little first, and before I knew it, I was choking on my own sobs. What was happening to us? Elizabeth would barely speak to me. How I hate this van; everyday a constant reminder. I’ve got to get rid of it.

I pulled into the driveway and a wave of uneasiness inundated me. My body tensed up and my mind traveled.