The Record: Monsters

Stuck in the cave of The Beast

I am alone.

Brian is gone tonight. And tomorrow. And I’m not sure how many days it will be before he’s back again.

I can’t remember what I did today without him here. Was it worth it?

I am not alone in the bed, not entirely, and when an apple falls from the tree outside, these mutts know by now that it’s nothing to jump at. When I think I hear footsteps or whispers, I just look to them for guidance, and there they sleep. I take the pit bull seriously; if he’s sleeping through it, it means to me that there’s nothing out there to be afraid of.

Oh, but there is.

I’ve lost each of them before, everyone in our little family, at some time or another. I’ve even lost myself. And I realize, it’s true: as much as we love each other, hate each other, want to move on and move out and find our own little bits of peace, we all pull each other back out of that riptide current when it strikes one of us and we get too far away.

Three full-grown humans can do a lot to save a fourth from disaster.

Sometimes I feel like I’m breaking apart as I watch our family continually try and struggle. But our hands are attached to one another’s like glue, and we perform our stilted dance, making sure none of us drowns, because if that happens, we’re all going down.

So I will rally the others as we all heave-ho together to break free from the jaws of the monster. In a dance that will last forever, for good or ill, we will survive.