Ducks, Newburyport

by Lucy Ellmann

the fact that I just realized that when this monologue in my head finally stops, I’ll be dead, or at least totally unconscious, like a vegetable or something,

the fact that it’s good they got them to the zoo, the fact that we can’t have cougars running all over the place, eating kids,

“Dear Mother and Leo I’ve decided it would be better for everybody if I take off I can live on my savings for a while then maybe find a job,” the fact that what’s she talking about, “I’ll maybe head for Arizona or somewhere warm enough to sleep outside I’m taking the big sleeping bag love S,” oh my god no, no, she’s gone, “take off,” the fact that it’s so casual-sounding, the fact that I can’t believe it, the fact that this can’t be happening, how can this be happening, the fact that how could she do this to me, how dare she, Arizona of all places, the fact that where is she now, the fact that I don’t know,

lioness, I mean, the fact that what if that’s what happened to him, and the mountain lion ate him, the fact that I’d never forgive myself, and what’s worse is the kids would never forgive me either, the fact that there was no sign of a struggle though, or blood or anything, the fact that there were no lion footprints in the mud, the fact that the poor little guy really liked being outside and I hated to force him to come in, the fact that he was a farm dog and just never liked it inside the house,

She and her dog companion fled, hungry, for the less populated hills nearby.

the fact that there is no place for me in this world, no place, the fact that I am broken, broken, the fact that there’s no room in the whole of Ohio for my needs, my desires, my dilemmas,

They were clumsy, methodical, repetitive creatures, graceless and brutal – and full of exasperating un concern. She would like to show them who really ruled the world.

they caught that mountain lion, lioness, the fact that it was dancing around on Alligator Mound, the fact that they caught it alive and now it’s at the Columbus Zoo,

time he tried it on her, the fact that sometimes my feet started to hurt, just from standing there so long waiting for him to go, the fact that how could anyone have married Ronny, the fact that he must’ve talked her head off too, beheading, decapitation, leap, “Shane! Shane!”, the fact that to get away from him, all I could usually think of to say was “Well, the pies must be burning,” but maybe that just rubbed salt in the wound, or sugar anyway, caramelized sugar, with a bit of latticing on top, and egg-yolk polish, “Here is a nut,” the fact that what was really icky was when he started talking about all the times he’d spied on us, and followed us in his car, the fact that that’s really kind of scary, the fact that in the midst of it all, being held at gunpoint, all I could think was, if you had enough spare time to spy, you could’ve been delivering pie, and making yourself useful, a new rhyme for Budington, jutting gun, but, by the look of things, Ronny never did want to make himself useful, the fact that the chicken feed was just one big ploy, the fact that even when he rescued us from the floods, he had an ulterior motive, a big one, something between rape and pie theft, the fact that I don’t think he knew which it was himself, trash, chickens, kitchen stool, school bus, Leo, swimming cat, the fact that I don’t much like the thought of Ronny hiding around the corner like that, the fact that how long was he doing it for, months maybe, the fact that it’s pretty unnerving,

probably due to the nice copper bottom, of the pan, not Ronny, and it’s not even dented, the fact that I wish Mommy could have known her Revere Ware would come in that handy one day, the fact that, just think, if she hadn’t left me her Revere Ware we might not have conquered Ronny, inheritance,

a Ronny mound, and his protests and groans were less noticeable too, the fact that I felt like kicking him, I really did, but in some ways Ronny just seemed irrelevant by then, the fact that we’d beaten a guy with a gun, Mishipeshu, Mishawaka, the fact that if it wasn’t for Stacy though, and her self-defense tactics, it might have been a different story, the fact that maybe this is why you give birth, so that with any luck someone in your family will be handy in an emergency, like if it ever turns out your chicken-feed deliveryman’s a total nutjob, fruitcake, a person of inadequate sanity, and a danger to life and limb, the fact that all four of my kids turn out to be great in an emergency, actually, it’s just that I’m not, the fact that they all instinctively did the right thing, the fact that it’s like Powell’s attack on Seward, except that almost all the Sewards were hurt, and none of us were, Davina Beebee, the fact that the Sewards all survived, apart from Mrs. Seward, who died later from the shock of it all, poor thing, the fact that maybe she felt like I feel, the fact that maybe she froze too, the fact that anyway my kids are stars, quatre étoiles, Michelin Man, the fact that I could get really boastful about them if I don’t watch out, especially Stace, the fact that without her I’m not sure we’d still be here, the fact that that little kid of mine, Stacy at six, dear me, that grumpy little moaning Silent Treatment kid saved our lives,

“He’s happy with the Cherokee tracker, he’s happy with the tracker,” the fact that maybe they’d all be happier with the Cherokee tracker,

the fact that in some ways having your whole family disappear must be an adolescent’s dream come true, I mean not violently taken away or anything, or suddenly wiped out in a car crash or something, but like if they could all just conveniently dissolve into the background, the fact that isn’t that what teens are always wishing for, the good luck of a nice peaceful orphanhood, urchins, golden light, the Silent Treatment, DNR, sea star wasting disease, the fact that isn’t that why she complains about every darned thing I do, or she used to anyway, before she became our protector, the fact that she was still coming out with veiled threats about running away again, the fact that this is what I wonder about sometimes, when I can’t sleep, 3:33, whether she would have preferred me to vanish, mom, bomb, tomb, womb, but again and again I decide it wouldn’t be good for her if we’d all passed on in such a terrible way, or even just me, the fact that I don’t think people survive a thing like that intact, the loss of your mom or your entire family before your eyes, the fact that she might be free of us and all, free to do her own thing without interference, but she’d never be a whole person again, just like I was never a whole person after Mommy got sick, and that didn’t even involve violence, unless you count the neurosurgeon’s klutziness,

the fact that everything and everybody would seem far away to her, and strangers would frighten her, especially men who bore any resemblance to Ronny, the fact that she would try to blot out the trauma, GAD, but in the process she’d blot out most of the world and everything would start to seem unreal, the fact that she might be so injured she’d never be able to love again, never see the point of it, never want to fall in love,

“The happiest countries, like the happiest women, have no history… Do you know what makes history? Pain – and shame – and rebellion – and bloodshed – and heartache.

The only people who should be allowed to govern countries with nuclear weapons are mothers, those who are still breast-feeding their babies.

The very idea of a bridge is an act of faith.

Leo is an architect and always talking about bridges. Hes the symbol of hope.