Shani had no control over her life.  She was raised to believe that no one did. People just learned to breathe and let other forces take over.  Especially women.  What could a female do except follow the script written by men? Daughters imitated their mothers, working hard, but serving a husband. Her mother played the role until she was as worn out as an old washing machine.  Still, it was the course of life.  What was written in the stars couldn’t be changed.

   When Shani started to date Thad Embright in high school, her friends thought she was lucky, not because Thad was a prize, but because it meant that Shani was doing as expected, paving the way to being a housewife.  Some girls went to college, of course, and Shani had such dreams, although money was a certain obstacle. Fantasizing, she imagined being a journalist off to investigate some intrigue, a lawyer rising to deliver a dramatic closing argument, or a scientist in a crisp white lab coat stirring a life-saving formula in a beaker.  Only half on a whim, she filled out college applications and received two acceptance letters.  To her father, the letters had the value of the scrap inside a fortune cookie.  He tossed them.  Her mother went along.  But Shani, stubborn, didn’t give up so easily.  She took a job working at a super market deli, planning to save every cent she could and someday go to college.

   Whatever hand was dealing for Shani kept her involved with Thad Embright.  Shani’s mother liked Thad and thought they made a good couple.  One July afternoon, Shani lay on a blanket in the backyard sunning.  Her mom brought two glasses of lemonade and claimed a lawn chair.

   “Where’s Thad today?”

   “Stone Lake.  Fishing.”

   She looked disappointed.  “I’m surprised he didn’t ask you to go.”

   “He did,” Shani said, without looking up.  “I told him no.”

   “Why?  I thought you liked to go.”

   Shani shrugged.  “I can take it or leave it.  I went last time just to keep him happy.  You know what I mean.  It wasn’t that much fun.”

   Mom reached for the tube of sunblock and rubbed some on Shani’s back.  “It’s your day off.  I thought you might want to spend it with Thad.”

   “I just saw him last night, Mom.  I needed some peace and quiet today.”

   “Things are…okay between you, aren’t they?”

   Shani could see the quiet would have to wait.  She sat up and took a drink.  “Sure.  But I don’t have to be with him all the time.”

   “Oh.  I see.  You’ve been seeing him for almost a year now.”

   “So?”

   “Nothing.”  She sipped lemonade and looked at the cloudless sky. “June Wilson said that her daughter Gina just got engaged.”

   “Yeah.  She’s dated the guy since tenth grade.  Guess she can’t wait.”  Shani lay on her back and adjusted her sunglasses.  She knew what was coming next.

   “You do like Thad, don’t you?”

   “I like him, but I don’t love him, Mom.  We have some fun together, but I don’t know if I want to spend the rest of my life with him.  He’s immature sometimes, especially when we’re with our friends.”

   “Well, that’s a shame.”  Mom sounded disappointed; Shani guessed it was because her matchmaking had stalled.  Shani pushed it out of her mind.

 

  Winter was long and dreary.  Shani grew to hate the smell of lunch meat and cheese, and while the size of her paychecks didn’t kill her dreams, it made them appear farther away than ever before.  As she plodded into March, one of those invisible forces jumped in her path to usher her life in an unseen direction.

   The morning nausea became too regular to be written off as something she ate.  Shani and Thad had had sex on a few occasions, but she had always insisted that he use protection, except once.  They had been at a party at the apartment of two married friends.  There were snacks, too much alcohol, music, people they knew from school, joints crossing the room, arguments with neighbors who didn’t like the noise.  A rocking good party.

   Thad rented a sleeping room beside some railroad tracks.  They both had had too much to drink, and Shani’s parents’ house was too far away.  They would stay at Thad’s. They got there by luck.  Thad couldn’t afford another DUI, and every time he swerved, Shani shrieked more like someone riding a roller coaster than one whose life was in the hands of a drunk driver. 

   Once inside, they snapped open cans of beer, and Thad fired a joint.  Later, Shani remembered only a few things from that night – sitting on the bed, gagging on the bad weed, thinking for some reason that the shock of black hair over Thad’s left eye was so cute, laying back hoping that there was a pillow to catch her (there was), a shadow pressing close against her, and a murderous headache the next morning.

   As she sat on the toilet in her parents’ bathroom, studying the pregnancy test stick, she knew that had been the one night.  “Shit,” she said, more because of the trouble it would involve than anything else.  She convinced herself that it was a twist of fate and that she would warm to the task of motherhood.

   The idea of a grandchild outweighed illegitimacy in her mother’s mind.  When Thad said that he would marry Shani, her mother was thrilled.  Now she could plan a wedding.

   On a sweltering July afternoon in her parents’ backyard, under a homemade arbor decked out in pink paper flowers, Shani and Thad were married.  Her dress was white. His suit was borrowed.  Their honeymoon was three days in a tent at Stone Lake.  They returned to his sleeping room and an immediate need to do an apartment search.  Three months later, with money borrowed from her parents, Thad pushing a lawn mower for a landscaper, and Shani’s meager savings, they moved into a one-bedroom apartment in a housing project.  Thad called it his “castle” when he invited chums over to watch football.  It was cramped and shabby, complete with peeling paint, thin walls, and ceiling cracks, but it was theirs for a while. Shani soon became too concerned with her stomach rising like bread dough to care.

   Both Shani and three-year old Alex battled chest colds one winter. Money was scarce, so she tried to coax him back to health without a doctor until an appointment was a necessity.  Her drink of choice was Formula 44, and her perfume was Vicks for a while.  She worked a few night shifts a week at a convenience store, and Thad, never equipped for steady work, roamed door to door, trying to sell vacuum cleaners he couldn’t afford himself.  Still living in the project, Shani got to know more of her neighbors’ business than she really cared to know.  She could hear a different argument depending on which room she was in. It occurred to her that the neighbors had the same pipeline into her life when Thad got home for a frequent argument.  She was stuck in a routine of just making do. The wizard who waved a wand over her life had forgotten her, dropped her in a pit with no escape.

   The skills Shani believed she possessed had been pushed so far back on the shelf that she wasn’t sure she could reach them.  The sting of failure intensified each time she thought about what her life might have been.  Her greatest talent had become dodging bill collectors, and that was harder by the day.  She was also accomplished at “winning” fights with Thad, if there was such a thing.  Shani was much sharper than her husband, quicker with a phrase.  Thad’s insults hurt her, no doubt, but his barbs were pin pricks to her straight razor cuts.  And she always got the last word.  Sadly, they fought often, and part of her enjoyed firing those last words, watching him recoil, hurt, dumbstruck like a man noticing blood before he realizes he’s been wounded.

   Most of their fights were about money – how little they had and how Thad spent it.  Temporary work was all he could get or hold.  He helped a roofer in the summer, pumped gas, swept a doctor’s office, worked at a car wash.  Some jobs he lost due to absence, being too hungover to show up.  Other jobs he just quit for lack of motivation, which led to arguments over his irresponsibility and Shani begging for more work at the convenience store.  Getting additional hours was a mixed benefit.  The extra dollars meant that Thad more often had to watch Alex while she worked.  When she got home, Alex would still be awake, unbathed and restless while Thad was high in front of the TV or guzzling beer behind an issue of Hustler.  Shani had enjoyed toking with friends, and although she could have used a moment of euphoric escape, neither their bank account nor her need to be accountable could afford it. Still, Thad had no qualms about spending on himself.  Football, a beer, and a blunt were his necessities.

   She complained once to the manager, a skinny, thirty-five-year-old redhead named Dave, a Jiffy-Mart lifer. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do,” she said, stocking a shelf with cupcakes.  “I’ll go home tonight and find my son unfed and Thad passed out drunk.  And he gets pissed when I tell him about it.”

   “He isn’t…abusive, is he?” Dave ventured.

   “No, well, not physically.  He knows I’d kick his ass if he hit me, but he hurts me in other ways.”

 

   Dave looked around to make sure no one was within earshot.  “You know, Shani, if things ever get too hard at home, you and the little one could, you know, come to my place.”  His face was crimson.  “You’d be safe there.”

   “Aw, thank you, Dave.  You’re sweet.  I’ll be okay, but thanks for listening.”

   She was sorry she had shared her personal life.  Geez, she thought. Guys. They either want to live off you or get in your pants.

  There was never a shortage of matchhead issues with Thad.  He even accused her of working more hours so she could be with Dave. 

   “Like you would care,” she said.

   “Don’t try it,” he retorted.

   “Try what?  Work?  One of us has to do it.”

   “Must be nice.  You get paid and you get more time with that skinny shit.”

   “Grow up,” she shouted.  “I asked for more hours so I could be away from you!”

   “Bitch.”

   “Bastard.”  The last word.

   A year later, Shani thought she couldn’t take anymore.  She told Thad that he had a week to straighten up and get steady work or she was leaving.  When there was no change at the end of the week, she packed a bag for herself and one for Alex.  She had hoped to leave for her parents’ house before Thad got home from the bar, but she didn’t make it.  He blocked the door, and they had a blow out that must have made their neighbors proud.  Name calling and accusations, gave way to Thad’s whining, begging, and finally threats. 

   “You can’t leave me,” he shouted.

   Alex cried at his mother’s side.  “Stop shouting.  You’re scaring Alex.”

   “I won’t let you leave.  I’ll kill us both.  I have a cartridge for you, too.” 

   “You won’t kill me.  There’d be no one here to clean up the mess.”   With that she clutched Alex’s hand and left.

  

   The separation had lasted four months, and during that span, Shani was able to work more hours, save money, and look for a better job.  She saw that time as a lungful of fresh air, the start of something positive.  The worst part of it was trying to answer Alex’s questions about when they could go back to daddy. 

   It was right after Shani got a job in a women’s clothing store that Thad started to visit her parents’ house.  Sometimes Shani was there; other times she was at work.  Regardless, she couldn’t prevent him from seeing Alex, despite the fact that Alex cried when he left.  Shani didn’t want the complications he brought, so she talked to him as little as possible at first, but her mother inserted herself.  She insisted on serving food, making coffee, or offering dessert, anything to make it harder for Shani to avoid him. They sat at the kitchen table having civil conversations, but her mother lurked nearby, ready to “look in” on them and make sure that he felt welcome.  It was like being teenagers again, and while Shani didn’t mind peaceful discussion, she was wary.  It seemed artificial, forced.

   One evening Thad showed up with a smile reserved for a successful hunting trip.  Shani had just finished work and was looking forward to mom’s dinner and a quiet evening with Alex.

   “What are you so happy about?” she asked.

   “I got great news.”

   “What?  You musta found a bag of weed or won a sixpack.”

   He chuckled and waved off the insult.  “No. My Uncle Zack died and…”

   “That makes you happy?”

“No,” he said a bit perturbed.  “Listen. My Uncle Zack died, and no one in the family wants his house. You’ve seen the place.  We went there for a barbeque once.  Out on Woodland Road.  Real private.  Nice piece of land.”

   Shani’s recollection was different.  She recalled a ramshackle house with a sagging porch.  It was at least a dozen miles from town, surrounded by woods and with a stream cutting through the backyard.  Her most vivid memories of that gathering were Zack, crocked, falling out of a rocker flat on his face; driving a drunken Thad home while he sang, sprawled across the back seat; and giant, vicious mosquitoes.

   “You remember it, don’t you?”

   “Yeah,” she said.  “I remember.”

   “Well, the family is giving the place to me.  To us!  No one else wants to move in, and since we could use a house, they said we could have it!”

   “Wait a minute, Thad,” she countered.  “I’m not ready to move back.”

   “Why not?” he asked, incredulous.  “We’ll have our own place. Lots of room for Alex to run.  No one around to bother us.  We can have a new start, Shani.”  By this time, he was excited enough to be chain smoking.

   Naturally, her mother was near, her face flashing optimism each time Thad spoke and falling when Shani answered.

   “Look Thad.  Things are going okay right now.  I like my job, and…”

   “It’s time you came home, Shani,” he interrupted.  “You know it is.”

   “No.  I don’t know that.”

   “Sure you do,” Thad insisted.  “What about Alex?  He needs a dad.”

   “Oh, you’re going to be a dad now?  You weren’t much of one before?”

   “I know,” he said, reaching for her hand, which she pulled back.  “I’m going to be better this time, I swear.  Give me a chance to be better, Shani.”

   She shook her head.  “I don’t know, Thad.  How can I believe you?  I’m trying to get on my feet here.”

   Then came the crying.  “You have to give me another chance,” he stammered, voice breaking.  He choked and shook with deep sobs.

   Shani rose to leave.

   “No wait,” he wailed.  “Think about it.  Please.”

   Shani’s mother had gone to him, and as Shani left she heard her mother say, “She’ll think about it.  I’ll talk to her.”

   Shani and her mother had a heated kitchen discussion later that night.  Mother thought that she should “take the opportunity” to have a house of her own, that it was a sure sign that Thad was trying to be a good husband, and that reuniting would be best for Alex.  Shani couldn’t see why her mom was such an advocate for Thad.  He didn’t do anything to get a house but wait until someone died.  How had he changed?    

   “You can’t live here forever, Shani,” her mother said.  “And where else could you go?  You have a child.”  She summed up her reasoning with one line: “You should go back to him, Shani.  He’s your husband.”

   After forty-five minutes of fruitless exchange, her father strode in from the living room.  He pushed up his horned-rimmed glasses and crossed his arms over his stomach bulge.  “Let me put an end to this bullshit,” he stated. “I’m tired of hearing this jabber.  Go back to your husband. 

It’s where you belong.  End of discussion.  I’m trying to watch TV here.”  With that he was gone, and Shani felt banished.

   Thad wasn’t done crying.  He stopped while Shani was at work to plead with her mother and to sweeten the deal with the news that he had been hired full-time as a dock worker for a trucking company.  He also cried to his own mother, who dogged Shani at work to make Thad’s case.  When two couples they both knew, people Shani thought were her friends, approached her in the grocery store and told her how much they hoped she and Thad could “straighten it out,” she was convinced that Thad must have blubbered in front of the whole town.

   Worn down, without an ally, out of necessity and not desire, Shani agreed to return.

 

  

   Her life resembled a pinball.  Bounding off a bumper, she had been whacked by a flipper and sent off in another direction. 

   Thad was thrilled with the “new” home; Shani not so much.  As they approached the house on a potholed gravel drive, she realized how secluded she would be there.  Thad called the house “fully furnished,” which meant that his uncle’s ratty furniture had not been tossed, including the lopsided recliner in which Zack died.  Shani would not sit in it.  The carpet was thin and pock marked with cigarette burns.  The couch smelled like piss.  The first thing Shani did upon entering was to throw open all the windows.  Their only new purchase – a mattress from Big Lots – was at Shani’s insistence.  She threatened not to sleep with Thad otherwise.  He relented.

   Gradually, Shani looked at the house as a new project, something that truly needed her touch.  She did what she could with limited resources and eventually made the place livable.

   Thad too found a new path.  Of course, he was too tired after work to help around the house, but he curbed his drinking, saving his drunks for Saturday night with the boys and Sunday afternoon football viewing.  He reported to work faithfully for months.

   Call it weakness or optimism, Shani allowed herself to feel good about life on Woodland Road.  One Saturday evening, she convinced Thad to give up his friends and spend time with her.  They drank beer and shared a roach after she put Alex to bed.  They got about halfway through some crappy cop movie when she found herself watching Thad more than the screen.  His brow, partially covered by that shag of black hair, was knitted, as if he were reading a Russian novel.  In the blue light of the TV, his face with its day of stubble, almost looked handsome to her.  “What?” he asked when he caught her staring.  “What’s going on?”

   “Nothing,” she whispered.  “Come on.”  She rose, took his hand, and tiptoed to the bedroom. 

   She rubbed his naked shoulders and back, and just when she thought he had drifted off, he pulled her down by the wrist.

   Nine months later, Eddie was born.

 

                                   

   It wasn’t long after Eddie’s birth that the alchemist mixed a new concoction for Shani.  Life sank like a freighter taking water.  Thad reverted to his old ways.  Afterwork stops at the bar were no longer restricted to Saturdays.  Some nights he didn’t come home at all. It was déjà vu for Shani, except this time she had two boys to raise.  She felt like a pack animal dragging an ever-growing load.  The weight that brought her to her knees was when Thad lost his loading dock job after being caught rifling boxes in the warehouse.  As Shani found out, Thad was already teetering on a tightrope.  Twice he had been reprimanded for getting high on his shift.  Fortunately, the company did not press charges; they just wanted him gone.  Thad shrugged it off.  “I was gettin’ tired of that place anyway,” he said.  He was back to scrounging for small jobs and stretches of no work at all.  The old way of life had seeped through the cruddy floorboards.  They didn’t talk much to each other, and when they did, it ended in disgust.

   Eddie was five when Shani’s old dream of college resurfaced.  A friend had started classes at the community college and encouraged her to give it a try.  She helped Shani apply for financial aid, and to Shani’s surprise, she received enough to cover at least a start.

   At first, Thad took her plan as a joke.  When she insisted that she was serious, he waved his hands and complained about costs.  “Well maybe you’ll just have to drink less,” she said, buttressing that line with the fact that she was the one bringing in a steady income.  When he saw that she was determined, he accepted the fact, but in a pattern that would be repeated often, he offered no support.  Whenever possible, he told her how worthless it was.  “What are you going to do, college girl?” he taunted.  “You’re too old to be anything but what you are now.”  She was twenty-six.

   Her first semester was a success.  She earned three A’s and a B. Her favorite class was Dr. Matthews’ Astronomy I.  She developed a mild crush on the bearded Matthews, always in his tie and button down shirt.  She was impressed by his knowledge and how clear he made the subject.  Also, she had visited him in his office, and found him to be friendly and receptive to an interested student.  Shani loved the college experience.  She couldn’t wait to get to class and the world she had only dreamed about beyond Woodland Road.

   Dr. Matthews had lent her a paperback star guide, and a classmate agreed to let her use her telescope for some stargazing.  Shani was excited.  She even bundled up the boys that chilly November night so they could join her.  Thad put down his Budweiser and picked up the star guide.

   “What’s this?” he said.

   “It’s an astronomy book Dr. Matthews let me use.”

   “Astronomy.  What’s that, fortune telling? Crystal ball shit?”

   “No,” Shani answered when she saw he was serious.  “That’s astrology.  This is the study of stars and planets.”

   He burped.

   Using the book and the telescope, she spotted the constellation Andromeda and relayed some facts from class, including the story of Andromeda being chained to a rock as sacrifice to Cetus, a sea monster.

  “Perseus saved her,” Shani said.

  “How?” Alex asked.

  “He had the head of Medusa, and when Cetus looked at it, he turned to stone.”  

   Alex peered through the scope. “That’s so cool.” 

   “Lemme see; lemme see,” Eddie begged.  “I can’t… wait!  I see it!  Wow.” Shani watched their breaths come in excited, frosty puffs as they took turns looking through the telescope.

   When Shani realized that Thad stood nearby, she asked him if he wanted to take a look.  He shrugged and shifted his weight.

   “Yeah Dad,” Alex said.  “You should see it.”

   He finally stepped forward, pretended to almost drop the telescope, and peeked into the end.

   “You see it Daddy?” Eddie asked.

   “Yeah, I see it,” Thad said flatly.  “No big deal.” He spit and walked inside.

   The boys were disappointed but only momentarily.  They wanted another look.  Her heart was full of joy at seeing the boys’ excitement over something she shared with them.  As Alex looked for more stars in the book, Thad’s posturing did not even register with Shani.  She beamed, happy that something she learned had opened a door to another world for her boys.

   In the morning, she found the star guide on the living room floor.  There was a cigarette hole burned through seven pages and several beer can circles through the book.  Apparently Thad had used it for a coaster after she had gone to bed.  They argued about it, of course, Shani asking what she was going to tell Dr. Matthews.

   “Tell him your husband used the book, too,” he laughed.

   “No, then he might think you can read.  Neanderthal.”  Last word again.

   Shani blushed when she returned the book.  When Matthews asked what had happened, she confided in him.  “My husband doesn’t think I should take classes.”

   “Why not?” Dr. Matthews asked.

   “Mostly because he’s afraid I’ll succeed.  He gets jealous.  He ruined the book because he knew it would hurt my feelings and cause me embarrassment.”

   Dr. Matthews nodded.  Shani was not the first female student to venture into college without support at home.  Matthews had grown used to scenarios featuring beleaguered women who wanted to change their lives.  He hoped Shani would not give up the fight.  He told Shani not to worry about the book and let her keep it.  At that moment, she knew she would register for Astronomy II.

 

 

   The professors wrapped up their last classes in December with happy holiday wishes, and most students were excited about the break.  Not so Shani.  The gate to that fragrant garden was swung shut, leaving her in a jungle of retail shoppers, restless kids, and the sack of rocks she had married.  She knew it was a temporary exile, and she thought happily of the new semester. She did so alone.  Thad resented her success and had one thing to say when she opened her grade report: “Anybody could do it.”

   Had it not been for the boys, she would have hated Christmas that year.  Coming home from work with carols ringing in her ears didn’t help, nor did having to assuage frazzled customers, but she fed off her kids’ wide-eyed optimism.

 

   New Years meant little more than hanging a new calendar.  While others were kissing at midnight, she was asleep. Thad celebrated in a bar.

   Shani could not remember a more barren time in her life.  She worked less after the holiday rush, and after the boys returned to school, she was alone, relieved only because Thad had loaded the Buick and went on a hunting trip.  She counted the days until her classes began. 

   All autumn and especially during the holidays their living room had been the meeting place for Thad’s friends to watch football.  She was expected to serve them food and snacks, and she did so.  It had been unpleasant and dirty, with scattered paper plates and spilled beer to clean up. She didn’t know what was worse – those who tracked mud in the house, or those who left boots at the door and propped malodorous feet on the coffee table.  A couple of his friends brought wives.  They helped to serve, between periods of gossip, but Shani did not enjoy it.  She had tried hard to break the servile bonds and sensed that the other wives resented her for it.  She was happy to be different.

  

 

   At the end of January, Shani was required to help with inventory at work.  It was going to be a long day; she had to go to class, pick the boys up from school, and work a shift before the inventory.  Some co-workers invited her for drinks after the tallying was done.  Shani told Thad early in the week so he would make no plans.  She had only spent a few evenings with classmates or co-workers, but every time she planned to do so, Thad raged.

This time was no different. 

   “Inventory my ass,” he said. “What’s really going on?  Who are you fucking?”

   “You’re ridiculous,” she said. “Don’t you think you’ve killed off any thoughts of being with another man?  Christ, I’d end up with another you!”

   “You’re not going.  Get it outa your head.  I don’t want you spending money.”

   “I can’t believe you!  Who do you think paid for your hunting trip, buddy? I did!” She pounded her chest.  “And what did that get us?  Nothing!”

   He looked wounded.  “Well, it’s not easy, ya know.”

   “Another thing… I buy the food your friends wolf down watching goddamn football.  If you’re worried about money, we can cut that out.”

   “Like hell,” he said.

   “Well, hell if I’m not going out on Friday.  You’re gonna watch the boys.”

   He was beaten.  Thad flopped on the couch, mumbled something, and grabbed the remote.  There was no further discussion that week.

   That Friday, she had kept the car keys close by.  Before leaving for work late that afternoon, she prepared food for the boys.  Thad napped in the living room.  “If you need something, wake up your dad,” she said.  She kissed the kids, promised to watch cartoons with Eddie Saturday morning, and left. 

 

   The Buick crunched frosted gravel up the drive.  The house was a cold, black outline in the headlights.  Shani turned off the engine, killing the radio as well.  The sudden silence was jarring and disappointing. It signaled the end of her night out, the beginning of a long trek until she could argue her way to another one.  Before her was the shingled prison with the sagging spouts and the leaky roof.  The thick tree line across the creek formed a haunting backdrop.  Shani couldn’t decide if it looked like insanity or freedom, both being equally deep.  She sighed and doused the headlights.

   Her first impression was to tiptoe and not awaken the kids or Thad, but a faint yellow glow from the back window, their bedroom, trashed that idea. The glow was without warmth. All it did was chase away the remnant of Shani’s comforting buzz.  Thad would be up, waiting, ready for battle.

   Had she looked skyward, Shani would have seen a window in the clouds offering a brilliant star display against the blue-black sky.

   She closed the door gently behind her and hung her coat and scarf on a hook.  Shani expected to see Thad staggering toward her.  She pulled off her boots and put them beside the kids’ sneakers piled in the corner.  Halfway down the hall, she pushed open the boys’ door.  There was Alex against the far wall, a well-covered lump.  Eddie, closer to the nightlight, snored rhythmically, like a baby buzzsaw.  She clicked the door shut, hoping they might sleep through what she dreaded would follow.

   Shani stepped toward the bedroom at once relieved and frightened.  Maybe Thad was asleep and there would be no fight.  Or was he waiting to do something to her?  It wasn’t in her to turn back.  What she saw when she reached the doorway both repulsed and angered her enough that she gasped. The stench of weed hung heavy. Thad sat in a chair against the wall, asleep, head back, mouth open, that shag of black hair covering one eye.  He had put the lamp on the floor, and it cast a garish light on the debris at his feet – eight empty Budweiser cans and a bottle of Jack Daniels in a small whiskey puddle; his fingers dangled inches away. Passed out drunk.  No surprise there, but it was the shotgun that jolted her. The butt rested on the toe of his boot; the barrel extended between his legs. His hand cupped the trigger guard. He had never come this close to making good on his suicide threats if he didn’t get his way.  Was he serious this time, or had he just kicked his acting up a notch?  Was the gun even loaded?  Had Jack Daniels saved her life by knocking out Thad before he could shoot her?  Her questions gave way to anger when she thought of what might have been.  Suppose he had pulled the trigger?  How dare he subject their sons to the trauma of finding him dead.  Pathetic bastard.

   The scene before her was her life in a capsule.  Any bit of enjoyment undercut.  Any plan for improvement discouraged.  Expecting a shred of responsibility on Thad’s part was foolish.  She realized that if they ever shared anything it was too long ago to remember.  How she had let her life capsize she couldn’t explain, but it brought a lump to her throat.  “I hate this life; I hate this life; I hate it,” she whispered, her fists balled and her forehead throbbing.  Why did every trip in her life end in a fog of stale weed and alcohol?  Each path led to the unfeeling lump of flesh that now seemed so foreign to her.  She seethed, feeling that she had never hated anyone as much as she hated him just then.  Taking a quick step forward to shake him, she suddenly stopped.  Why couldn’t something be done?  Her life had changed for the worse with one quick act years ago; it could change again just as quickly.

   She knelt beside Thad. She only had to move the gun barrel a half inch to line up under his chin.  His finger was already near the trigger; it didn’t take much to push it in place.  The rest was dreamlike to her, guided by some otherworldly cosmic force.

   Shani placed her finger on his, and pushed.

   The explosion rocked the house, flashed the world red.

   The boys stirred in their room.

   Shani stood and studied the splatter on the wall.  It looked like a constellation.