Klee, Wanda G. Klee. The Click. In: Ahornblätter. Marburger-Beiträge zur Kanada-Forschung. 12. Marburg, 1999 (Schriften der Universitätsbibliothek Marburg; 90).
ISBN 3-8185-0274-9 ISSN 0931-7163 http://archiv.ub.uni-marburg.de/sum/90/sum90-10.html


Wanda G. Klee

The Click


Like the body the mind can faint. The wall upright against her back, the floor solid under her feet, her eyes focus on the loudspeaker above the door bell. The receiver was put back. Click. No clear notion on her mind. Just click. The door did not buzz open. Is it that easy? How many times had she passed this threshold without paying attention? Now she is watching the different shades of grey in the bricks. On top of the door there are even some faded graffiti that had escaped her attention for years. Slowly she walks back to her car, saying a silent goodbye to his garbage bins. Before driving home she examines her face in the rear view mirror. There are no unusual lines. She does not drive faster, misses no red light. A quarter of an hour ago she was driven by a sudden wave of anger. She did not allow herself to be let down the easiest way, hanging on a phone line. A question of self-respect. She needed to talk eye to eye once more.

Back home she picks up where she left off. The water in the kitchen sink is still warm. No need to change it, adding some more hot will do. After doing the washing up she starts to dust her bedroom, puts the laundry in the machine and finally turns to her desk to go through neglected correspondence. In the early evening she makes herself some tea. Her flat is as clean and neat as it has not been for months with the exception of certain drawers she decided to deal with later. She is pleased with herself, but does not feel like going out or call a friend. This night belongs to her and she does not want to spend it talking about things done with. There is enough in the fridge for a pasta and wine night in front of the TV. She remembers their dinners together, how she enjoyed cooking for him. But he did not like pasta. Slicing the onions her last words echo on her mind again. Did she really say that? Click. So she had the last word after all. She will enjoy tonight’s Fatal Attraction without having to pay attention to the phone for a change.

Fatigue makes her go to bed early. It was a busy day, indeed. But sleep is harder to find. He will never share this bed again. The constant click keeps her awake. What would she do in case he called and apologised? Finding no sleep she turns to her book and spends half of the night reading.

Waking up to a grey Sunday morning she decides to stay in bed a little longer than usual. She can afford it now that the housework is already done. But the bed is cold, too cold to feel comfortable in now that she is awake. So no unusual sleeping in. Breakfast and back to do some ironing. The phone does not ring. Not even her mother or a friend disturb her. With the weather clearing up she goes for a long walk in the fields. She enjoys being alone. This has never been a problem. Yet she faces a slightly different solitude, one that lacks the background of companionship. The course is different, too, avoiding certain places to escape sentimentality. She does not want to pretend that everything is like it has always been, nor is she willing to stage catastrophe. Even more so with the feeling of indifference in her. She does not feel anything but the sun on her body. Her thoughts wander around. She thinks of him, of course, but in a strangely detached way, as if the click had erased the emotions in her memories. A Stummfilm. She is not sorry about that. Her condition would be a lot worse if this had not occurred. This, too, will come later. For the moment she concentrates on her own well being which did not matter for a long time. Now she wants to gather her strength for her own sake. Why she had neglected herself she could not remember exactly. It had appeared perfectly natural to her, although she never saw herself as that kind of woman. She cannot remember walking without the burden of missing a call for a very long time.

She returns home before the rain. The weather is not reliable, either. This evening she does not want to spend alone. But which company is the right for a night like this? She wants to go to the cinema see a nice and easy Hollywood movie with a well known set of characters a familiar story line and predictable endings. Real men who are not afraid to fight.

Wanda G. Klee, Institut für Anglistik und Amerikanistik, Philipps-Universität Marburg, Wilhelm-Röpke-Straße 6D, 35032 Marburg
e-mail: kleew@mailer.uni-marburg.de




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