The History of Sound by Ben Shattuck

Author:Ben Shattuck
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Swift Press

Nathan looked up, seeing the last minutes of the sunlight held in the clouds high above them. Crows moved through the dead-gray canopy. The light was draining from the sky.

“I suppose it’s your decision,” Nathan said.

He had, he thought, long ago given up the expectation that he and Eleanor would marry. So, what was this feeling? Part jealousy, part confusion, but also just the simple line of fact that he knew she was making the wrong decision. She’d be unhappy if she went to Boston. Ever since they were children, she always got bored, unsatisfied, or disinterested eventually. She would be stranded in a city, want to return home.

“But,” Eleanor said, “I want you to tell me I’m doing the right thing.”

He felt anger now swelling up. “I don’t think I can be part of this decision. You need to make it for yourself.”

“That’s somewhat harsh.”

“I think you should live with your decisions.”

“Lord,” Eleanor said. “I just wanted support. For you to be a part of this.”

She sounded nervous.

He reached out, touched the saw again. Whatever strange event had halted the loggers had also saved the tree. This huge, living thing had almost died, but didn’t, just at the last moment. Maybe the cut would heal over, behind the saw, and the tree would live for a long time. He felt the cold metal teeth of the blade. There was a slim lip of grease still on the metal. The work-worn wooden handles were soft.

“You know that marriage is a bond until you die?” he said. “That you might be unhappy for a very long time. You might like the idea of it, but that’s not real.”

Eleanor breathed in, stared at him, and looked like she was about to say something. But she didn’t. She held something back. She collected snow from the broad side of the saw and brought her hand to her mouth, licked it.

He knew by her silence that she’d marry this stranger, and that the two of them would drift apart. She licked the snow again. She smiled at him, in what he thought was a cruel way. So, they were already separating.

He felt it in the blood in his face, in his pulse. He wished her harm. Bad health. He wished that she’d think back to this moment by the tree, when she could have listened to him, could have changed her fate. Instead, her pride and curiosity were forcing her into a ridiculous life. Maybe it was good she was leaving. She was narrow. A narcissist. Someone he didn’t want to be around anymore. He hated her, then. He felt the temptation to say all this to her, but was stopped when she turned away from him, breaking his chance.

She turned her hand over, and let the remaining snow fall to the ground, uneaten. She wiped her wet hand on her dress.

“Let’s go,” she said, walking toward the cabin, not looking around to see if he was following.

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