Stan Morris - Surviving the Fog

She went to the hall closet and rummaged through it.

“Found it!” she exclaimed triumphantly. She brought the ornament to the Christmas tree along with a rickety old stool.

Good grief , thought Ralph as she climbed the stool, leaned forward, and attempted to maintain her balance while placing the cherub on top of the tree. Ralph got up from the sofa and moved behind her, just in case. Mary set the ornament on the tree, and then she leaned back. At that moment, the stool wobbled dangerously, and with a gasp Mary fell backwards, right into Ralph’s arms.

For a moment the startled pair stared at one another. Then as one, they became aware of the feel of the other’s body. As Mary gazed into Ralph’s eyes, she felt the strength of his arm under her knees and warmth of his other arm behind her back. Suddenly, for reasons she could not have articulated, she blushed. Seeing her blush, flustered Ralph and muttering something incomprehensible, he lowered her feet to the carpet.

Mary composed herself, and she threw him a nervous smile. “Well, thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome. I guess I’ll go to bed now,” he answered, and he withdrew to the safety of the attic.

Later, as she lay in her own bed, Mary was troubled. For the first time since she understood that her husband was probably dead, she had responded to a man with a rush of pleasure. She didn’t want to feel that, and she especially didn’t want to feel that about a younger man who was living with her. But she was still a young woman in her late twenties, and in certain circumstances her body would still respond naturally.

Mary thought back to when she had been a young bride. After college, she and Davis had moved to Anaheim. Davis had taken her to Disneyland and to Knott’s Berry Farm. Together, they had explored the La Brea Tar Pits and the Los Angeles County museum. It was a wonderful period in their lives. And Ralph was not much younger than Davis had been at that time. Mary tossed and turned in her sleep that night, and for the next week, Mary and Ralph treated each other a little warily.

Christmas Day and New Year’s Day passed comfortably. The kids were contented. Comet made everyone laugh by pretending to be a reindeer. Then in the middle of January, there was a cold snap and a lot of snow. Ralph made his way to the barn, and he stayed there until the bad spell passed. Every evening, Mary talked to him on Star’s walkie-talkie to assure herself that he was all right. During the day, Mary tried to balance their usage of wood and propane.

Finally the cold spell passed, and Ralph returned to the house. When he walked in the door, Mary was so relieved to see him that not thinking, she flung her arms around him and held him. Ralph was startled, but after a moment, he responded in the same way. For a few moments they stood there holding each other, and then becoming aware that others were watching them, they moved apart, both blushing and pretending that nothing unusual had happened. The twins saw nothing amiss, but Paige and Kylie exchanged worried glances.

After the cold spell, the house returned to normal. Then one night, Comet caused a new crisis to arise. Ralph had gotten into the habit of putting Comet to bed and tucking him in, and on some nights Ralph would read or tell Comet a story. The twins usually not there, since they went to bed later in the evening.

One night, after Comet was comfortably in bed, and Ralph was about to leave the room, Comet said, “Read me a story, Daddy!”

Startled, for a moment Ralph thought that Comet had simply made a childish mistake, but then he saw that Comet was watching him intently. Ralph did not know what to do or say. Finally, he decided to ignore the endearment.

“Uh, all right,” he responded, and he read Comet a bedtime story. Satisfied, Comet went to sleep.

The incident troubled Ralph, but he hesitated to burden Mary with any more problems. Then, a few days later, Comet called him, “Daddy,” in Mary’s presence. Ralph could see that Mary was stunned. At the first private opportunity, Ralph tried to apologize to Mary, but she wouldn’t have it.

“You don’t have to apologize, Ralph,” Mary assured him ruefully. “He was barely three when his father left. There is no way he is going to remember his father much longer. It’s different with Star. She adored her father. If you don’t mind him calling you, ‘Daddy,’ then I can deal with it. When he’s older, I will explain it to him. I’m more worried about Star’s reaction.”

The next day, Mary’s words proved to be prescient. When Comet called Ralph, “Daddy,” Star’s eyes grew huge, and then she exploded.

“He’s not your Daddy,” she raged angrily. “He’s not our Daddy. He’s just some old bully. Our Daddy is dead. ” She burst into tears and ran to her room.

After that, Star’s behavior took a turn for the worse. She was belligerent to Mary, mean to Comet, and nasty to Ralph. She refused to clean her room, help with the chores, or go to bed on time. This lasted for a week.

One day, Comet was in her room trying to get her to play with him. He happened to pick up one of her dolls. Angrily, she slapped him. Crying, he went to his mother to complain.

“Why did you slap your brother, Star?” Mary asked, bewildered at her daughter’s violent behavior.

“I hate him,” Star snapped. “He’s a dumb-dumb, and he’s stupid. I hate him.”

“That’s enough out of you, young lady,” her mother admonished the girl. “Your brother is not dumb, and he is not stupid. You apologize right now.”

“I won’t,” cried Star. “I hate him, and I hate you. You made Daddy go away. You made him die.”

Mary turned pale, and she slumped down on the sofa. She was unable to keep tears from seeping from her eyes. Seeing this, Star fled to her room.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Ralph said quietly.

Mary looked up, as her eyes continued to leak tears. “Ralph…”

“It’ll be okay. She’ll be okay,” the young man said. “I’ll talk to her.” He went to Star’s closed door where he found Paige and Kylie standing by the door, calling to her.

“Go play with the twins, please,” he requested. Reluctantly, they left. Ralph knocked on the door.

“Go away,” he heard Star yell.

“I’m coming in, Star,” Ralph said. He opened the door and entered the room. Star was lying on her bed crying.

“Leave me alone, you big bully,” she choked out through her sobs. Ralph did not respond. He sat down on her bed and waited. Presently her sobs tapered off.

“I had a little sister. She was five,” Ralph said. Star kept her head pressed against her pillow, but Ralph could sense that she was listening.

“My parents were divorced when I was twelve. My Mom left us. Then my Dad remarried, and he and my stepmother had a baby girl. At first, I was mad about it. But then I got to like her. She would follow me around, begging me to pick her up. One day, my parents left her with me. She messed in her diapers, and I had to clean her up. That was weird, but I had watched my stepmother and my Dad change her, so I did it. I cleaned her, and I powdered her butt, and I put another diaper on her. I don’t think I ever looked at her the same way after that. Somehow she was not just their kid, she was my kid, too. When I realized that she was dead, I got crazy angry. I was so mad. I blamed everyone and everything.”

“Like me,” said Star with a sniff, her head still face down.

“Yes, like you. Now I realize that mostly I blamed myself,” Ralph replied.

Star began to sob again. Ralph reached over and softly stroked her back.

“It’s all my fault,” Star cried. “It’s all my fault. I told Daddy that I wanted a new video, and I kept bugging him and bugging him, and finally he went to Bakersfield to get one for me, and now he’s dead. It’s all my fault.” Ralph waited until her cries tapered off again before answering.