Sunday, August 16, 2009

The Pack

They are out there again.

Their howls were faint at first but every few days that familiar
eerie chorus seems a little closer as they circle.

Watching.

Waiting.

Sometimes they are silent. Sometimes they retreat a bit.

They are tentative. Not sure the time is right. Not quite sure
if they have been summoned.

I know this pack. They made their first appearance when
I was thirteen.They came very quickly and stayed for nearly
a year.

My mother and her friend Betty talked several times.

'I thought it would be okay - they are both so young.'

'It was so innocent - the most they did was hold hands.'

And yet I felt broken.

They came again when I became pregnant at eighteen.

Then I gave him up for adoption.

Their ranks grew. They must have called for reinforcements.
The rank and file was tired. This turned out to be a very along stay.

A very long stay indeed.

They have come for shorter visits. When they leave and the hazy veil
of despair is lifted I hope it is the last I will see of them.

But their path is well traveled. They know the way in their bones.
They have been visiting my ancestors for centuries.

I was not to be spared.

The very darkest, most debilitating visit occurred when my beautiful
twins arrived. I could not sleep for the incessant howling of the
pack. The noise was deafening when I nursed my babies.

I was a prisoner, a slave to them again. They fed on my panic,
on my feelings of being trapped - a prisoner in my own home.

They finally left after six months. Now and again I would find the
tufts of their undercoats under a high chair, behind a crib.

Little testaments to their visit.

They call to me every few years or so.

This time I heard them early - I went for help sooner.

And I am taking care of myself better.

And yet they wait.

I visualize running them off. A screaming banshee with a big stick.

I visualize them losing interest and wandering off.

I visualize a peace of mind descending and a serenity that stays.

And the seeds of hope fall out of my clenched fists as they
slowly relax and open.

And I pray for rain.




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