Tuesday, February 11, 2003

Leaving the Bernuth Residence: five

Leaving the Bernuth Residence: five angles

Mr. Bernuth pulled the door shut and stopped on the landing with his eyes closed.  His heart pounded; his eyes burned with tears withheld.  When he’d opened that door he had intended never to pass through it again. But hearing it close behind him, he knew he would return.

Mr. Bernuth gave the door a solid yank.  It shut hard.  In the instant that the door hit the jamb and the latch fell to with a quiet click, he knew his keys were still on the endtable with his wallet and phone.  He sat on the landing to consider his options.

Mr. Bernuth watched the door as it slowly closed behind him.  He had not wanted to leave, but staying would only have made things worse.  The engraved nameplate on the door shone brazenly at him, taunting him with his own name.

Mr. Bernuth closed the door and took a deep breath.  It was finished.  His heart soared.  Air smelled better, sounds were crisper, and life was more meaningful.  There was no obvious change, but the change was obvious to him.  He couldn’t stop smiling.  He didn’t want to.

Mr. Bernuth closed the door for the last time and looked up at the brass plate he’d had engraved with his name.  His hand rested on the doorknob.  The flowers in the tree he’d planted bloomed brilliantly against the achingly blue sky.  He sighed, turned, went down the steps, hands in pockets, eyes on the ground.