There was a low gurgling sound accompanied by the forceful outpouring of water from the water outlet just above the abandoned trough. Bernice gasped then placed her left hand under the running pipe, withdrew it sharply when the coldness bit into her skin, then returned the hand under the water and began rinsing at her dirty hands.
Source
It had been three months since she had seen water run casually from that outlet. Three months ago when the landlord had not disconnected her water supply. When Kiara and Temple, her kids could still be heard shrieking and making thumping sounds with their heavy footsteps as they ran away from each other during their hide-and-seek games.
Three months ago when her life was still in its working state. Nothing seemed to work around the house anymore, up until the day before. Brandon and Bernice had been married eight years, A captain with the US force, Brandon had been issued a letter of deployment to the Mojave desert six months earlier. It had not been the first time he had to up and gather his duffel bag, leaving herself and the kids for months, sometimes without hearing his voice at all, but it was the first time he had gone for six months without any form of communication. A letter at least.
"Is my husband dead General?" She had confronted General Splint who attended church at her parish two weeks ago.
"Bernice, there's a huge chance your husband is alive. I am not certain but he must have been deployed to war."
The news broke Bernice's heart into small, irrecoverable pieces. She didn't know what to say to Kiara who had grown up as daddy's goddess; waking up each morning to plant a kiss on her father's forehead with him bent on one knee before her, holding her tiny waist with his two large palms. After that ritual, he would read the paper, sipping a steaming cup of coffee handed down from Bernice to Kiara and then to him.
Sometimes, they spent time together washing the car but Temple would come in right then to shoo her away so he could have some daddy time after neatly tucking away his toys and shoes, making his bed, and washing thoroughly in the shower.
Bernice had begun putting more effort into the garden then, placing a sign for consultation services and gardening classes to distract herself from considering the possibility of never seeing Brandon again but only one of her old neighbors and two hyperactive young girls had showed up, giving her the feel of taking care of three extra children besides Temple and Kiara. Only one of them ended up paying in full by the end of the first month. She had to take the sign down afterward.
She sat by her cell phone every evening, hurriedly clicking on every notification that came in hoping it would read "Babe I'm so sorry, I've missed you". Other times she could hear the telephone downstairs ring and when she hurried down, taking two steps at a time, she would realize it was her mind playing tricks on her. No one had called the phone.
It became almost unbearable when she could hardly raise money for them to eat or pay the utility bills. Twelve weeks after her husband left, a notice was sent to her concerning her light and water connection and eventually, she woke up one morning to realize water didn't run from the faucets any longer.
Her flowers began to wilt, losing the brightness in their petals and making sales more difficult. She had to walk almost 5 miles to get some buckets of water every day and after two weeks, she sent Kiara and Temple to her mother.
Subsequently, the lilies began to produce weaker blooms and the Zinnias began to suffer from root rot and powdery mildew. Bernice was certain she was going to lose it so she phoned her mom to ask if she too could come over for a while.
"You know how it is here Bernice. There's your sister Eunice and then your kids. Barely enough room for us all in here."
She wiped tears and snort from her face and said she understood then began to look up ways to revive her garden online. She was still trying to put strategies together when she heard a knock on her door exactly six months and two days after Brandon had left.
When she flung the door open, he was there, fully kitted in his official regalia, hale and hearty. Her mind returned to the water pouring nonstop on her hands, oblivious to the one pouring down her cheeks. She thought of the water as a symbol of hope, that soon enough, everything was going to be fine again.
PS: This is my entry to this week's creative garden.