Magnet & Steele by Trisha Fuentes

Nancy dropped the baby into the crib
when he walked in towards her. By then, she knew what drinking a
bottle a day could do to a man and with Stephen, it was just plain
self-interest. Nancy begged and pleaded with Stephen to take her
somewhere else but he didn’t listen and pulled down her skirt at
the base of the crib.
     
    Nancy now stood up from the bench
and walked over to the side of the gazebo and gasped for breath and
remembered…the two toddlers in their Sunday best. Nancy ran back
into the bedroom to get her hat when she bumped into Stephen
hogging the doorway. With a selfish grin and a sneer in his eye he
grabbed Nancy’s body and forced her down to the carpet. Nancy
recalled being so incredibly worried about her two babies left
alone in the front yard. They could have wandered into the street
and been hit by a car! They could of roamed into a neighbor’s
backyard and gotten bitten by the neighbor’s angry dog! Anything
could have happened, what the hell was he thinking?
     
    Fully weeping now, Nancy fell to the
first step of the gazebo nearly tripping down to the next step as
she wrapped her arms around the white pole for balance. Looking up
at the stars she tried to take control of her emotions but they
took over like a typhoon rushing in and she collapsed in
agony.
     
    She instantly brought to mind all
the wonderful memories she had up until her marriage to Stephen.
Those few, short glorious months wrapped inside the arms of someone
who adored her as well. Recalling that short-lived passion caused
her heart to swell up and hurt beyond recognition. God, she missed
him. To this very day, she still missed him and everything he had
to offer; security, warmth, passion, friendship, laughter and
undying love for her. She wondered where he was…still wondered
where he was or if he was even alive. No, he was alive; she could
feel so in her heart. But where was he? Was he married now? Where
did they live? Was he happy? Did he ever stop to think about her?
Has he ever once thought about her? Or did he just consider them
childhood sweethearts?
     
     
     
     
    October, 1967
     
    Francine’s senior year, her first
day in a new high school and she sat alone on the grass, reading a
book. She noticed no one and no one noticed her as she unraveled
her sandwich and looked up…hundreds of students gathered together
in small clumps, “clicks” they were calling them now and she was
suddenly envious of all their friendships: having fun, laughing,
talking about whatever.
     
    “God, I miss my friends,” she said
under her breath. Francine then eyed a group of cheerleaders, every
other girl a blonde with a tan. “Look at that girl, she’s
disgustingly pretty. I hate girls who look like that. All the girls
here look like that. God I hate California!”
     
    Sickened at the sight, Francine
glanced away in the opposite direction and observed a group of
jocks playfully tossing a football back and forth and instantly
recalled her sister’s boyfriend Ray. He was an awesome athlete and
she became envious of her sister as well, of their happy life
together, with a baby on the way. She then looked across the grass
again and unexpectedly noticed in the corner of her eye, a football
spearing towards her, but before she could react, one of the jocks
missed the catch and the ball landed right smack in her
lap!
     
    Her milk exploded into a volcano of
cream sending liquid everywhere: her blouse, neck, face, hair, arms
and crossed legs! Francine didn’t mean to make herself the center
of attention, but she did and screamed out, “Oh God, look at my
books! Look at my skirt!” Frantically searching for something to
wipe off the goo, Francine quickly found her stance and bent back
down to thumb through her purse for a Kleenex, handkerchief,
something.
     
    Just then, a lunch napkin was shoved
in front of her face—like that would really wipe everything
away—and Francine raised her eyes and then followed the lines of
the young