A Box Full of Joy

He was angry with me. I knew he was. It was spelt out in the set of his chin and the pallor of his skin. It was written in the dots of his irises and the tense in his shoulders. I think I would have preferred the shouting screaming, spit flinging wrath that meant that I knew where I stood.

 This ‘Silent treatment’ was worse than any fat lip and black eye I ever got before.

It was worse because with every other breath I can convince myself I’m imagining his anger.

Why would he be angry with me? What have I done? What haven’t you done? You’ve hurt him. He’s hurt because of you, look at his shoes, and glare at it. You did it. You did it. He hates you- love and anger mixes like salt and water- you cannot separate it. But hate boils the salt out and now he hates you. He hates you.

Thoughts start like snowflakes and you admire as they fall, breaking on your eyelashes so you can’t quite see them. But you feel them instead, clinging to where they are not wanted.

Soon, flake by flake you have an avalanche and no amount of shovelling can stop you from being trapped under the mound.

I cannot breathe. Good.

“Do we need milk?” he turns to me,

“Yeah, we only have enough for a cup of tea. Then we’re out.” The shop flickers back into being, the lights send shock waves through me. The music echoes.

He places the milk in the basket, tenderly making sure that it does not crush the eggs.

The eggs. That’s why he hates you. He’s going to leave you. He hates you.

The eggs are not my fault.

He loves animals, last year he bought 5 chickens and he cared for them like they were his only children.  He stroked them and fed them. They were clean and healthy, and oh god did they love him.

Whenever I had to feed them they would stay in the hut, cawing out at me like moody teenagers. But when he came by the chickens fluttered to his feet, gazing up with gorgeous feathers and gilded eyes.

He never looked at you like that. Not once. Why would he? You’re disgusting.

I didn’t mean to leave the gate open. It was an accident.

Sure. Like Snowy was an accident.

I… Snowy was an accident. I didn’t see her, and that was years ago. He can’t be mad about that now.

Scars can reopen with new wounds. He’s remembering.

Of course. Look at him with the eggs, this is the first time he’s had to buy eggs in years. Look at the shadow in his eyes. Every. Time. He. Looks. At. Them.

At least he’s never looked at me like that.

I wonder if he found you all torn and broken and red if he would be as upset.

If he was that upset about chickens he’d be very upset about me.

He’d gather you up in his arms, would he? He’d sob like a hungry child- desperate for love. Would he? Would he?

It would be glorious thunderclap if he gathered me up like he did to the chickens this morning. He’d have to look at me like that-

“Oi, watch it!” He turned to stare at me, I’d just walked into his back.

“Sorry. You stopped so suddenly.”

“Yeah because I’m actually shopping, not gazing around like a moron. If you’re not going to help- hold this.”

“I am helping, you just stopped without warning.”

“Right so it’s my fault I dropped the jar. Like everything is my fault.” I looked at the jam jar on his feet. Now you couldn’t tell if his trainers were red with jam or with chicken. We both stared at his shoes for longer than necessary.

“It’s not your fault, it’s no one’s fault.” I offered, but he just kept walking. I watched him carefully now. Pick up the jars and check the sell by dates. I gazed as he took a step back and looked for the cheaper option. This is art.

The basket in my arms grew heavy like eyelids.

I wanted to say something to him. To apologise and make him see that these things just happen.

No, they don’t. You happen. Like you happened to Snow and the Chickens. It’ll be him next.

“Shut up!”

Only the music continued.

“I didn’t say anything” He turned on me- he was desperate to unload his pain now. I would let him.

“It’s not your fault- with the chickens. I should have double checked the gate. I’m sorry” He chucked the pasta he was holding in the basket, and ran out of the shop, pausing to let the automatic doors open before getting into the car and squealing down the street.

Well, that went well. 

Great, now I would have to walk home.

And you confessed your guilt. When you get home all the things will be gone. Not even a note to say goodbye.

At least I still have my purse, I can pay for the shopping.

Do you really think a bag of crisps will make him love you again? Not that he loved you in the first place. No one could love you.

I know, I’ll get pizza and popcorn and his favourite snacks and then we can make a cosy night of it.

You’ll just gorge on it once you’ve seen the empty house, the bare walls, space where he used to be will fill up the world.

Expanding forever like perfume sprayed from a bottle until even that has spread to nothing.

“Do you have a club card?” The woman on the till looked desperate for attention. For love.

It’s a fucking mirror of you.

She was quite pretty really but her smile was so forced I could see her eyes watering with the pain of it.

“Yes, Thank you” I checked her badge “Geraldine, and can I just say you have a lovely smile. It’s so nice to see in this day and age.”

“Thank you! Though great customer service is just part of my job. Your total is £25.78.”

“Well then, Geraldine you are exceptional at your job.”

I slotted my card into the card machine and watched the icon spin forever. (Does it stop when no one’s looking?)

I smiled at Geraldine again, I wanted exceptional at your job to be the last line. The sentence had a flourish to it that I hoped would stay in her memory.

But now she was just talking about all the hard work she’s put in and the effort she gone to and how it hurts to smile.

Oh god, it hurts to smile, it stings and bites and morphs your face till you are a mask of someone you cannot remember. Do not remember. Will not remember. When was the last time you could smile without crying? When were you last

“Happy to help.”

She finished and I smiled again and left. I had to walk home. Now, but I like walking in the dark. It’s like swimming through ink and star dust.

I put in my ear buds and started home.

The plastic bags cut into my wrists, but I took a long way home. Something was calling me. An idea I did not want, falling into my head.

We were approaching the shelter.

He does love animals, and we have space for some more since Snowy and now the chickens. Wouldn’t that be the best surprise to walk home and present him with a new pet?

It wouldn’t replace the old ones or you oh no. But it might distract him and make him smile.

The smile that cracks open the world and sucks out the molten and brightens my day.

I stepped into the hay-scented building. It glowed like buttercups under double chins. Who doesn’t like butter?

“How can I help you today?” The receptionist was too perky. His smile, his eyes, his fucking tits. It annoyed me a little.

“I’d like to buy a pet. I was thinking a kitten or a puppy?”

“You’re not sure?” He seemed surprised.

“Well it’s a gift, you see, and I’m going to pick the animal that I think suits him- I’m not racist.” I forced a laugh but the walls absorbed it.

“Right, okay then. Well, we keep our animals separate, so what would you like to see –“

He was interrupted by the door kicking open and an old man with a huge box storm in. The old man simply dropped the box on the floor and left without saying a word.

About 20 thousand cats popped out.

The receptionist and I ran around like- headless chickens! Do you get it? Do you -

But I managed to pick them up and put them back into the box.

They gazed up at me obediently. The receptionist seemed horrified by the old man’s behaviour and was fetching blankets and water and food for the litter (or litre) of kittens.

“Oh my good god they are adorable.” He crooned. They were with their fluffy tails and wide eyes and tiny pink noses each a melted strawberry bon-Bon.

“I’ll take them” the words escaped me. They were not mine but just assigned to me this has never happened before.

You don’t get to just ignore me. You don’t get to just FORGET ABOUT ME. YOU CANNOT LEAVE MY HEAD AND JUMP SHIP.

Watch me.

“All of them? That’s 12 cats you have right there, that would be a lot of work.”

“We’ve just lost 6 animals yesterday. We have space. But you're right, maybe twelve is too many. 6 is good. It’s a good number.”

He seemed flabbergasted.

“Okay, which 6 would you like?” That was easy, I scooped out three and crooned as they snuggled in my arms.

“These three, and then I want three puppies.”

“Erm.” His perky demeanour was shaken now.

“Sure.”

He got out a travelling box and put my chosen three cats in there. Two were the colour of milk poured in tea, the third was a bright red. Not ginger like a tabby, but a darker red. She was gorgeous and she was mine. He can name the other 5, but she was mine. She was Embers.

We went through the dog section, and they barked and slammed themselves against the cages. Embers poked her head through the top of the box and stared at them. They quitted into morning sunrise when she glared at them.

There must have been a hundred dogs in there. I didn’t know much about breeds but the receptionist rambled on about snippers and whippers before stopping in front of a cage.

“Now, my recommendation is this adorable trio. They are also siblings and they work really well with cats and in packs. They would be perfect.”

Each dog was as black as the void, their shining eyes light up the room. They were larger than I expected but that may have been because they owned their space. Commanded their bodies and took no shit.

“I love them!” and the love took me by surprise, like a punch in the face or the first drop of rain down the back of your neck.

“Oh. No, I meant the dogs in the cage directly in front of me.” A trio of mewling greyhounds whimpered in front of me.

“Sorry, they don’t seem like the dogs for me, but these three. They are perfect.”

“Well you see, they aren’t exactly suited to such large groups, and they’re hunting dogs so they may attack the cats. Which wouldn’t end well.”

“How could anything so adorable cause any harm?”  I reached through the bars and scratched under chins, their tails beat like a metronome.

Then I shot him a look that made him open the cage and clip on leashes.

“Perfect.”

We went to the till, and I filled out the forms and bought all the necessary items and them a collar and a toy for each. I said I’d come back when they were named and have the collars engraved but I did Embers now. She gave her thanks by stretching her tail around my wrist.

He waved goodbye to me, pleased at how much money I spent, but slightly terrified at my demeanour. I could taste it in the wave of his hand.

Now I don’t know if you have ever walked puppies, but they don’t exactly trot along beside you. The dogs yapped happily and darted in and out of my legs, I nearly tripped twice. Add in the fact that I was carrying three huge shopping bags and a big box of kittens, and it was a horrific accident waiting to happen.

I was only 10 minutes away, but I had to stop three times to untangle my legs and rearrange the bags.

So I admit it, I cheated. I picked up the puppies and put them in the kitten box. Carefully mind. I watched for a second to make sure that they didn’t immediately jump at them, but they all seemed friendly if nervous. I shut the lid, balanced the shopping bags and carried on.

It was way heavier but easier and I’m not weak so I managed it.

The puppies and kittens were as good as gold. They barely moved at all. But they barked and meowed a lot. I imagined them in there sitting in a circle playing icebreakers, like at the beginning of a class. Or a company retreat.

It must be terrifying to be crammed in a box with only air holes for air.

But then I imagined his face as he opened the box and out poured little bundles of adorableness. Nobody could be angry after that.

Nobody.

I really struggled to get out the key, so then I just kicked on the door. He answered. Looking haggard, like he doesn’t care about anything anymore. I hate when he gets like this.

“You left the gate open.”

“Ah. Yes. Accidently”

“I asked you if you had shut it probably. I asked you to go back out and check.”

“Yes, but it was quite cold. And it was raining and I remembered doing it.”

“I offered to go out and check myself. You said that you had already done it.”

“You were comfy. I remembered closing it.”

“But you didn’t”

“But I didn’t.”

A thousand years passed.

“I bought a present for you.” The pets had gone quite like they were waiting for the surprise.

He stepped aside and I went into the warmth of our home. He was still here, pictures were still on the wall, the world continued to turn.

I handed him the box and he looked confused and went to open it.

“On the floor! You need to put the box on the floor first.”

I started to unpack the shopping- most of which was thoroughly defrosted- and waited for the croon of cute that would escape from his lips unbounded by anger.

And everything would be alright.

The bundles of fluff were still quiet, but he had that way about him. Animals bent to his will.

I heard the rustle as he picked one up and put it gently on the floor.

I turned around.

He was not happy. Tears rushed to escape.

Around the box were 5 silent still bundles.

Ember sat proudly in the middle. Licking herself clean.