Bunny Room by Oscar Brady

Author:Oscar Brady [Brady, Oscar]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grilled Cheese Press
Published: 2025-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

17

Sam

Distantly, I think I can hear a man scream in pain. It sounds like it’s coming from far away, maybe outside, perhaps on the other side of a mountain. The room is swaying as though I’m on a boat, rocking at sea. I ignore that this is from blood loss, dehydration, and starvation, a terrible mix for one’s health. I pretend it’s just the gentle lapping of waves against a cruise ship.

I think back to when Jared took me on a cruise, one of those big ships that are on the cheaper end to get on but are still fun. Through a free room upgrade, plus some help from my parents, we had a balcony suite. Jared spent a great deal of the cruise imbibing, going to the bar for hours without me, drinking and “just making friends,” he said. I trusted him—I trust him I mean—but it was a bit disheartening getting the feeling that I was spending much of the vacation by myself, and so early in our marriage. I made the best of it, lounging by the pool with a book, and sure, I would have a few drinks each day as well.

Toward the end of the cruise, when I brought my concern to Jared’s attention—it was important, many friends and family members told us, to communicate with your partner—he immediately went on the defensive, saying that he was just trying to have fun. And besides, he said, I was giving him the impression that I wanted some alone time. “Am I supposed to just sit there while you’re reading your romance books by the pool and not do anything?” I was so affronted by this I couldn’t respond. I wasn’t used to being in a relationship that was so—rarely, but still—tenuous. Jared wasn’t like this before we were married, but within months of our union, he became a different person. He wouldn’t say why, nor even acknowledge that anything had changed.

I did find peace on that cruise, being at sea for the first time, even though I was essentially alone. I would hang out in the stateroom, hoping to catch Jared when he came back, but then find myself sitting on the balcony, my book resting at my side, temporarily forgotten while I got lost in watching the hypnotic waves undulating and lapping against one another. Tiny silver fish jumped out from the boat’s wake hovering for dozens of feet while black and white seabirds dove to catch them. I still smoked then, and though it was against the cruise line’s rules, I smoked from the balcony, tapping my ash into a glass which I would rinse in the sink when I was done, after flushing the cigarette butt.

This small detail from my memory brings me back to the here and now, as the connection of the cigarette butt rolling down the cruise ship’s stateroom toilet brings to mind the cigarette butt that recently washed down my throat with the glass of water. While I know it’s impossible, I can feel it in there.

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