The Harris Family: A Novel by R M Johnson

Author:R M Johnson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster

20

Julius looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, toothpaste foam clinging to the outside of his mouth. He just stood there, his face long, his eyes tired, letting the water, paste, and saliva mixture ooze down his chin. He was tired, exhausted, and he looked it. Just brushing his teeth managed to wear him out so much that contemplating bending down to cup water in his hands and rinse his mouth made him want to turn and crawl into bed.

He did it anyway, feeling a bit shaky on his legs, feeling the pain that had been bothering him for a week now attack his lower back when he bent over the sink. It was the same pain that had struck him last week, the night after the wonderful day he and Caleb spent together. It was because of the energy he exerted that day, the football tossing, the squatting on the floor, he told himself. And when he woke up the following morning, barely able to turn over without grinding his teeth together, wincing through the pain, he told himself it was because of the love he made to Cathy the night before. He was doing things he hadn’t done in a while, putting forth a bit more effort. He was happy, about life, about his love for his son, for his wife, and he’d wanted to show her. But the next morning, he’d just lain there in bed, feeling chained down by the sheets and blankets that covered his arms and legs, as she pulled herself up, and looked down at him, seeing his eyes open, but his body remaining still.

“You gonna get up, or do you want a little more from last night?” she’d said, slyly.

And to think of even contorting his body the way he had last night caused Julius to feel a bit more pain, even though he hadn’t moved an inch.

“No, baby. You go ahead. I’m just going to take a few more minutes, and I’ll meet you downstairs for breakfast.” He was getting worse. It was getting worse. But the question was, what was it? Could it be .

No! He wouldn’t think like that, he’d told himself, as he quickly halted, a sharp pain stabbing him in the back; he’d thrown his legs over the side of the bed. He’d bit down, squinting his eyes tightly shut, trying to suppress the cry that was beating at his clamped teeth to come out, for Cathy probably hadn’t even descended the first stair yet. If she’d heard him, she would have rushed back into the room, found him doubled over in pain, and questioned him as to what was going on. And when Julius said he didn’t know, it would have all started again, the prodding to find out what was wrong, and God forbid, the push for him to go back to see the doctor.

He had decided to hide whatever discomfort he was feeling until it passed. It was a muscle strain, or a flu of some sort.

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