Ruby walked to the front porch again. Ted heard her pacing around the house all day. He knew it was the third of the month because that’s when his Veteran’s disability check arrived in the mail. She’d been in and out of their bedroom prancing around changing into different dresses. The odor of hair color still permeated the room along with her Chantilly perfume that made him nauseous. She’d taken out the curlers from her hair and smeared strawberry lip-gloss across her lips.
As she walked by Ted again, she opened the drapes. By the way her shadow cast itself against the wall he faced day and night, Ted could tell that the sun was going down
“Ruby, ya thinking about going somewhere?” He asked. She didn’t answer, just kept about her business.
Ruby hated when Ted spoke. Why couldn’t he have just died in that crazy Asian war? She wondered constantly. It was just awful to take care of him. He’d been so handsome when he left and proud to serve his country. He’d written her letters telling her how much he missed her, loved her, couldn’t wait to get home to her and she would write him back sweet little love notes laced with her perfume that he so loved.
Then, in June of 1953, she got word that Ted was coming home. She knew from the talk in the general store on Main Street that the war was ending and she knew when Ted was coming home early it could only mean the worst.
When Ted came home he was shell shocked from constant battle. There were 8000 Americans listed as MIA but no, Ted found his way home. Paralyzed. He’d been shot in the neck. He’d never walk again, he’d laid in a ditch for so long his legs were permanently bent. He had a government issued wheelchair, catheter bag, and tremors that never seemed to cease.
She tried to love him but it was just too difficult to carry him from the chair to the bed the smell of his gas and the noises he made at night just made her sick. Most nights she’d just sleep in the den and many nights, she didn’t even bother to try to lift Ted into bed. Doc Holliday said he’d die soon anyway.
Ted was no fool, he was well aware that he could not satisfy Ruby and she was a trollop before he’d gone to the war, during the war, and now it was just downright embarrassing to hear her panting, ranting, and screaming in the den with other men she brought home from the Tally Ho Tavern. Silver-tongued devils were always talking her out of her dress and most of the money in Ted’s disability check. When Ted would remind her that the money was rightfully his, she’d remind him that he couldn’t drive her to the five and dime and that Bobby McGee needed his truck fixed. The last time they’d gone out to the store it took three days for them to get home. Ruby she claimed that Bobby had to thumb a ride for them to return. Ted had succumbed to the fact that she took her love town and probably even border towns.
Every third of the month, he’d proceed with the same routine. In a fit of anger, he knew that if he could just get to his shotgun hanging on the wall, he’d bury her in the backyard. He wheeled his decrepit chair to the bedroom door.
Again, Ruby would foil his plans of a murder suicide. She placed towels on the hardwood floor like speed bumps. Most of the time, he’d fall out of the chair trying with all the strength in his arms to maneuver. He was once again, cursing her before she left, begging her not to take her love to town.
It would be another night he wondered who she might bring home. Maybe one of the Gatlin boys and there were three of them. Bobby McGee who played harmonica and made her sing the blues when he’d disappear for a few months. Or, perhaps the newcomer lately, Johnny.
The sun sank into the mountains behind the house. Ted heard the door slam, just like he heard a hundred or more times before. His heart ached and his stomach growled. She’d left him again without food.
Ruby, don't take your Love to Town (Song)
As she walked by Ted again, she opened the drapes. By the way her shadow cast itself against the wall he faced day and night, Ted could tell that the sun was going down
“Ruby, ya thinking about going somewhere?” He asked. She didn’t answer, just kept about her business.
Ruby hated when Ted spoke. Why couldn’t he have just died in that crazy Asian war? She wondered constantly. It was just awful to take care of him. He’d been so handsome when he left and proud to serve his country. He’d written her letters telling her how much he missed her, loved her, couldn’t wait to get home to her and she would write him back sweet little love notes laced with her perfume that he so loved.
Then, in June of 1953, she got word that Ted was coming home. She knew from the talk in the general store on Main Street that the war was ending and she knew when Ted was coming home early it could only mean the worst.
When Ted came home he was shell shocked from constant battle. There were 8000 Americans listed as MIA but no, Ted found his way home. Paralyzed. He’d been shot in the neck. He’d never walk again, he’d laid in a ditch for so long his legs were permanently bent. He had a government issued wheelchair, catheter bag, and tremors that never seemed to cease.
She tried to love him but it was just too difficult to carry him from the chair to the bed the smell of his gas and the noises he made at night just made her sick. Most nights she’d just sleep in the den and many nights, she didn’t even bother to try to lift Ted into bed. Doc Holliday said he’d die soon anyway.
Ted was no fool, he was well aware that he could not satisfy Ruby and she was a trollop before he’d gone to the war, during the war, and now it was just downright embarrassing to hear her panting, ranting, and screaming in the den with other men she brought home from the Tally Ho Tavern. Silver-tongued devils were always talking her out of her dress and most of the money in Ted’s disability check. When Ted would remind her that the money was rightfully his, she’d remind him that he couldn’t drive her to the five and dime and that Bobby McGee needed his truck fixed. The last time they’d gone out to the store it took three days for them to get home. Ruby she claimed that Bobby had to thumb a ride for them to return. Ted had succumbed to the fact that she took her love town and probably even border towns.
Every third of the month, he’d proceed with the same routine. In a fit of anger, he knew that if he could just get to his shotgun hanging on the wall, he’d bury her in the backyard. He wheeled his decrepit chair to the bedroom door.
Again, Ruby would foil his plans of a murder suicide. She placed towels on the hardwood floor like speed bumps. Most of the time, he’d fall out of the chair trying with all the strength in his arms to maneuver. He was once again, cursing her before she left, begging her not to take her love to town.
It would be another night he wondered who she might bring home. Maybe one of the Gatlin boys and there were three of them. Bobby McGee who played harmonica and made her sing the blues when he’d disappear for a few months. Or, perhaps the newcomer lately, Johnny.
The sun sank into the mountains behind the house. Ted heard the door slam, just like he heard a hundred or more times before. His heart ached and his stomach growled. She’d left him again without food.
Ruby, don't take your Love to Town (Song)
Comments
Post a Comment