http://penastory.com/2016/02/03/sally-a-sequel-to-ruckus/

Excerpt From Ruckus:

“This stupid sickness will rob my kids of a good life. I might do the surgery and still die. If I don’t do it according to Dr Thomas I won’t survive. What if I do it and get through this?” he thought again and that thought birthed a self-centeredness, an alluring temptation to survive no matter whose education would be on the line. He did not want that caprice to blossom, so he lit another blunt and puffed the smoke in the air with false ego to shake off the fear that he may actually die.

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Sally returned from work and found her husband fast asleep. She hurried to the bed to make sure he was still alive. She sighed in relief at the sound of his breath and left him to trying not to disturb his sleep. Ruckus had retired to bed after his smoke, wrapping himself with a blanket and rebuking the thoughts of death with the bible verse Psalms 118: 17 that came running through his mind, “I shall not die but live to declare the works of the Lord.” He had recited the verse without actually believing it but it had helped him fall asleep.

She was tired; she had left work early to watch her daughters’ school dance and from there stopped by the farmer’s market to get some ingredients for dinner. Now that she was home she couldn’t wait to get out of her work clothes. She unzipped her skirt, pulled it down in one yank and threw on a yoga pant. She took off her shirt and looked for a round neck in her closet. She found a red shirt, the one that had been given to her by the cancer support group when she visited the hospital. She thought of the man lying on the bed, her husband, Ruckus Jefferson, born on July 3rd 1980, thirty five years old, father of her twin girls, ten year olds, Sandra and Bella. Doctor Thomas of the St. James Cancer Research Hospital had told them that surgery was an option and that there was less than fifty percent chance of survival because the cancer cells invaded the most part of his lungs and may have spread to the left side of his chest.

“The cancer cells are in the lymph nodes and have spread to the opposite side of his chest. We can do surgery but there is less than fifty percent chance that he will survive. We don’t know the exact survival rate and we cannot promise anything” Doctor Thomas told her and her husband three weeks ago.

“How could he have said no to the surgery? How dare he say no to life even if it’s just one percent chance of survival?” she asked herself as she put down the red shirt and searched for another a shirt that was less infuriating. “I always knew I married a coward but I did not know that it was to this extent, to the point of death.” she thought to herself as she left the room to the kitchen. “Well if he wants to die, he wants to die,” she mumbled as she saw a lighter and empty box of Newport cigarettes on the kitchen counter. “He can smoke all he wants. I will live my life after he is gone. If Ruckus is choosing to die, I am choosing to live,” she blurted out in fury even though she was not sure about how she would cope after his death. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes as she arranged her cooking ingredients on the kitchen counter trying to still her hands that were shaking from emotion. “I can live without him. I can do it,” she tried to convince herself trying not to think of anything but thoughts of survival.

“I will have to sell this house. It should be worth something, maybe a hundred thousand dollars,” she paused and evaluated the worth of the house with her eyes. I will get a nice small apartment in Idaho. Me and the kids can live in Lewiston. Louisa said the schools there are good and the neighborhood is native enough for raising children. And I can find me an office space close to the house and close to their new school. I will have Louisa, it shouldn’t be so hard, would it?” she questioned as she tried conjuring a future in Lewiston without Ruckus.

She hated what she was doing, mourning a man that was still alive. She poured some potatoes into the tray and sprinkled a little bit of salt. Between the kitchen counter and the oven, she found cigar ash on the carpet. She put down the tray and stormed to the room to give him a piece of her mind. She couldn’t hold this provocation anymore

“If you are weak enough to want to die, you don’t have to make the rest of the world who are trying to be strong after you are gone become as weak as you, “ she yelled in frustration, tapping him where he was still sleeping on the bed.

“What are you talking about, Sally?” Ruckus asked with the innocent ignorance of a man that had just been woken up from sleep on his face.

“You are sick, dying as a matter of fact but you still smoke heavy. Despite the cancer, despite your weak lungs, it is obvious you want to die and while you do it don’t leave your cigar in plain sight or let your ashes stain the ground.” She declared and paused for a second, waiting for a response, waiting to see if he would deny it. She shrugged in frustration when he gave none.

“Just die, die so that the living can be rid of you. Your daughters, Sandra and Bella don’t have to live with the memories of you as the father whose love for the whiff was stronger than his love for his children.” Ruckus felt like she was poking at his heart with every word that came out of her mouth in her anger.

“You refused the surgery, and since then you haven’t done anything to help yourself, you went back to smoking. That’s all you do these days, lay in here like a bag of wasted nothing, wake up, eat, sleep and light a cigar once you are bored,” Sally declared with accusing fingers stretched towards Ruckus who was now fully awake and dumbfounded. She glared at him and he stared back at her to make sure she was out of steam before he responded

“Oh really? You think I have a death wish? That death is fun? That I think of it has a mere vacation? You are ridiculous Sally. You are!“ He snapped at her and paused to catch a glimpse of the expression on her face. Sally was surprised at the tone of his voice, at the words he uttered, at the fire in them.

“I am dying and scared and living my life by the clock knowing that death is certain, it is coming closer at every stroke of the clock. Yet you blame a dying man for smoking, for living while he can,” now there was accusation in his voice. “And the stupid surgery can’t do anything for me. These lungs are gone, the surgery cant save me. Do you even think about what that would mean for you and the kids if you squander all your money and time on saving me from death and then you fail. All that money and effort goes to waste and the next thing that happens is that you scrounge to find money to give me a befitting burial. All a waste!” Ruckus lashed out.

Sally stood there, speechless, disturbed by his psyche, unsure of how to respond.

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