The Dark House
The following article appeared in the October 1990 edition of Underground Texas, a newspaper I founded years ago which has vanished from publication. Its message is still pertinent today — The Trenchwalker.
By Agnes Carruthers
UNDERGROUND TEXAS
Sunset is like a candle just before it goes out. It’s pretty; but, oh, how it turns dark so fast. The dark is cold and the shadows are not my friends anymore.
I hate it when it’s windy because of the sounds. The north wind sweeps the vines next to the kitchen and the south wind vibrates the front door – just enough to make noises.
Edgar, I wish you were here.
If someone broke in, I could fight ‘em some, but I don’t know about my arthritis. I don’t know how well I would hold up. I ache so.
My, such a pretty pink and orange. I still like the bright light blue sky the best, though – without a cloud in it. Neighbors’ houses are starting to lose their color. It’s getting late and there’s a bank building up. Wish it would wait ‘til morning to thunderstorm and rain.
While I’ve got light, I better eat. Wish I still had Tabby to keep me company. Edgar sure liked that cat. Was the only cat he ever let stay in the house.
It’s already getting dark in here. Days are really shorter. These cornflakes are pretty good, but I’m getting kind of tired of them, and I wish the milk would last just a little longer. Never could cotton to blinky milk. Mama said when I was a young’un I just wouldn’t drink it and that’s been 81 years, so I guess I’ll never change.
Sometimes I wish I was blind. They say if you’re blind, your ears become like eyes, and that might help me get through the night. I shouldn’t think such things, though.
Used to, when I did the dishes, it would take a lot of time and I didn’t like it. Now I just rinse my bowl and spoon. It’s so quick and easy, but I don’t like it. Sometimes you don’t know when you have it good. How I wish the kids lived close enough so I could do for them and we could talk and reminisce and it would be like happy times again.
Wouldn’t be whole without Edgar in his recliner, listening to everything we say and smiling. I wish Edgar was still here. And my cat. It’s so quiet. Even the quiet is loud!
They say you don’t feel things as much when you get older…that by then you’re used to pain. I don’t mind the arthritis so much, but it does get awfully bad sometimes. The pain I have trouble toleratin’ is the quiet in this house! And then the noise. Little noises that are so abrupt they set my heart to poundin’. I’m so jumpy without my warm gray cat with the gentle purr and the white paws.
The kids are off livin’ their own lives and they’re barely makin’ it. I just wish Edgar was still here and our plans were in place.
Why did the one thing we worked so hard for get so mixed up? We weren’t going to burden the kids and we’re not. We saved so hard and made so many sacrifices. How could anyone be so cruel as that insurance company. We aren’t machines…we’re people!
It’s not fittn’ to set blame, but they warted Edgar to death. If they’d a kept their promises, he wouldn’t of lost sleep and stayed in a worried state! That made him worse. He felt like such a failure, and he was concerned so about me. He knew he was dyin’ and nothing could be done about it, and he knew I’d be alone. Nothing could be done about that either.
I wonder if I will just lie down and sleep tonight, or will I fret and let all the wrong that that insurance company did to us go ‘round and ‘round in my head. I need to get ‘em out of my head.
Why did they send me that letter, telling me how good they did last year? Sure, I got it by mistake. They’re makin’ their stockholders rich by not honorin’ their promises, that’s what they’re doing.
I wish I could turn a light on. It’s getting dark. Electric company raised rates again. If I don’t keep my bill down, I’ll have to dip into my burying money. Can’t keep Edgar’s grave the way I want to as it is, and I miss my cat. Hope Mrs. Cummings’ granddaughter takes care of Tabby and he catches enough rats in their barn to earn his keep. He probably likes it there, but I sure miss him here. Wish I could have afforded to keep feedin’ him. He fit so nicely in my lap and was such a good friend.
Can’t read anymore at night ‘cause it takes light. TV hasn’t been on in so long! Bet the neighbors think all I do is watch TV at night, what with the lights out, and I wish I could. That would pass the time.
When it’s daylight it seems I spend my whole time going back over and over my money. Social Security check just isn’t enough! Ain’t supposed to be and I never expected it to be. Edgar and I had it all worked out, till the insurance company let us down and messed things up for us.
We didn’t like payin’ ‘em, but we did religiously. We didn’t need ‘em till last year. They took our money for 30 years. Then when we needed ‘em to pay for Edgar’s medical expenses, they said he didn’t qualify. Everyone said we needed to hire us a lawyer, but that’s a gamble, too, and Edgar was so tired of the fight and not up to it. He wouldn’t have lasted. I wish he hadn’t a died with this thing unresolved. He was upset and hurt and couldn’t believe this had happened to us. They really walked all over us and there was nothing we could do that would have worked in time.
I try to think of happier times, but when I do I get so sad and can’t keep the tears away. There were many happy, joyful times in this house, but it seems like a hollow shell now…almost like a tomb.
Maybe I could turn just one light on for a little while. I could read some and my eyes might get tired and I could go on to sleep. But if I turn on the light, I won’t be able to pay for my burying. That’s one promise Edgar and I made to ourselves. The kids won’t be saddled with having to do for us in our old age, and that includes burying.
If I hold on to what I get and keep my expenses down, I can do that and the insurance company can’t take that last ounce of dignity away from me, so I’ll sit in the dark and pray for morning.
The moon is my friend. It sees me through the night and smiles down at me. My, how I loved to look up at the stars when I was a little girl. It was mysterious and dark and so vast. It would conjure up feelings of wonder and even warmth. People for centuries have looked upon these same stars and pronounced their hopes and dreams to the heavens.
More of my friends belong to the universe than to this earth. They have passed over and triumphed and are out there telling me it will be all right – that the old ways still exist up there ‘cause they’re up there to see it.
This earth is so cold and the people are not the same as they used to be. I often wonder if humanity is vanishing away and taking our good people with it.
I’ll gaze at the moon and it’ll give me strength to make it through another night. That moon has been my friend since I was a little girl. My mama and papa looked up at it for hope and so did Edgar and I. We made our plans in its wake and at different ages whispered to it our dreams. That was a long time ago and only yesterday.
This dark house has ceased being a home, with warmth and joy. It is more a relic, as am I.
Mine is not the only dark house in the neighborhood. I wonder how many other lonely people, just like me, there are on this street, in this town, everywhere? I wish I could comfort them and we could see ourselves through the night together.
It’s so sad. I would be so nice if we could wait for the morning light together and talk about a time when only old folks were lonely.
