Kathleen Ann Goonan - The String
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2024-11-24
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The String
by
Kathleen Ann Goonan
Dan tried to ignore the sadness that pervaded him whenever he and Jessica did
something fun together. He smiled at her and her smile told him, "Don't
worry,
Dad, it's all right."
She was much more grown up than him. But that's what a fatal illness often
did
to a child, the doctors had told him.
Cincinatti was always cool in spring, and often overcast. Dan squinted at the
sky as he unrolled the brilliant dragon kite Jessica had picked out and
snared
its breast with a string.
"Come on, Dad," she said, hopping from one foot to another. "What's taking
you
so long?"
"I'm kind of concerned about those trees," he said. Huge oaks surrounded the
ballfield across the street from their house, but it was the clearest place
around. The gusting wind held the sweet tang of rejuvination. How many
springs
would his daughter see? He had to try to knot the string twice; his hand
trembled the first time and he missed poking it through.
Jessica was short for her age, eight, and she wheezed a lot. Dan knew she
would
be dead in a few years but tried not to think about it too much. He wouldn't
live forever either. Anita was bitter about their daughter having cystic
fibrosis, and seemed to want to blame it all on Dan, even though she knew
that
it took recessive genes from both parents.
Jessica lifted the kite, and its fanciful wings filled with wind. "It's
gorgeous," she said. "Purple, red, and yellow."
He smiled at her, and she grinned back, her pale brown hair flying out from
the
hat pulled over her ears, her green eyes full of knowledge no child should
have
to bear, learned as she lay gasping for breath in an endless stream of
anonymous
hospital beds, stuck full of needles which dripped experimental drugs which
never worked into her veins, which were getting harder and harder to find.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked.
He watched the string run through her hands as the wind took the kite. She
played it out until the dragon floated high and small, then began to play
with
it, making it swoop, its long tail swirling like invisible writing on the
gray
sky.
Then she shrieked as a strong gust pulled the end of the string, which Dan
had
wrapped around a stick, from her hand. The dragon hung suspended for a
moment,
then zigzagged and plummeted into an oak tree.
"Oh no," said Jessica, looking stunned.
"It's okay," he said. He climbed the tree, cut the string with his penknife,
pulled it the kite from the branches, and tossed it down to the ground. It was
a
little ripped up, but he thought he could fix it.
When he was almost down, he saw the tangled string, stuck in a lower branch.
He
reached over, worked it loose, and stuck it in his pocket. Then, holding
hands,
he and Jessica walked back to the old house he'd lived in since he was a
child.
#
Later that night, when he finished putting the dishes away and Jessica was in
bed, he remembered the string, and got it out of his pocket. Anita, on one
side
of the huge kitchen which served as sort of a living room too, was entrenched
in
her CAD, working on some specs she'd brought home. She was so good her firm
had
paid to have the computer assisted design setup here at home as well as at
the
office.
She looked up. "What's that?" she asked.
"Just the kite string."
"Well, we don't need any more clutter around here. Throw it away."
Instead, Dan sat down at the table and studied it. "Look," he said, "it's not
really a knot."
"You couldn't get much more knotted than that," Anita said.
"No, look: one end stayed attached to the stick. One end stayed attached to
the
kite. It's not a knot. The ends never crossed. Theoretically, it's just a
perfectly straight string."
"Right," said Anita. "Sure. That's exactly what it looks like to me. Well,
I've
got to get to bed. I guess it's my turn to take Jessica to physical therapy
tomorrow," she said, with that familiar resentful edge to her voice.
"I would, but I've got a meeting in the afternoon." He was a structural
engineer. He was aware that Anita, a brilliant, moody architect, sometimes
found
his methodical, dogged approach to life dull. He often wished he were more
spontaneous, but he couldn't help himself. He had long since resigned himself
to
being in the background and assisting her rapidly advancing career in any way
he
could.
Dan sat at the table for half an hour, studying the string. Finally, he got
two
knives out of the drawer and tied one end to each knife.
Then he started to pull little loops from the tight core.
Each loosening opened other possible avenues of unravelling, and he stared
into
the heart of the string, more and more fascinated. Each time he created some
slack, he followed it down into the core, pulling and teasing, until it was
lost
in the nest of tightness. Each time, he felt a little ping of joy when the
core
of the string became more and more revealed.
It was three a.m. before he stopped, surprised at the time. How could he have
become so absorbed? He was about to untie the string from the knives and
throw
it away when he stopped, smiled, and chucked the whole thing in a drawer. At
least it was something to do.
He went to bed feeling better than he had in a long time.
#
When he got home from work that night Jessica ran to meet him and said,
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分类：外语学习
价格：5.9玖币
属性：14 页
大小：31.34KB
格式：PDF
时间：2024-11-24
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