Page 160 - Reason To Sing by Kelita Haverland

Reason To Sing

“How do you know that?” Now I am really worried.
“I just know. Those guys are going to take our license plate
number and call the cops. They’re going to be there soon.”
I start to tremble. “Then what?”
“They’ll take a report and maybe the guy will press charges,
I don’t know.” His mood is not pleasant. He is short with me,
spewing out his words like bullets.
I keep glancing in the rear-view mirror to see if anyone is
following us. Or for flashing lights. I’m listening for a wailing
siren. I keep checking the entire way home. I’m on fire with
tingling nerves. Still in shock. This whole episode totally
disgusts me. Hudson is silent and I certainly have nothing to
say. I’m protecting myself. I don’t want him to explode at me.
Best just to shut up.
Why can’t he just be like a normal person? I hate his anger.
There’s always some kind of crisis. He can never just leave well
enough alone. Always has to be making some kind of a scene.
I hate it.
Hudson is right. No sooner do we arrive home than a police
cruiser pulls up in front of our house. That old familiar feeling
of shame quickly greets me.
Two tall officers walk up to our door. Hudson answers and
invites them in. I stay quietly in the kitchen, but I can hear
everything. They ask Hudson a lot of questions and fill out the
report. Hudson knows he’s guilty and doesn’t attempt to hide
the fact. They tell him they’ll be in touch.
Early the next day we receive word that my husband did in
fact break the guy’s nose! He is surprisingly remorseful and feels
lucky nobody is pressing charges. Lucky is an understatement.
The rage that lives within Hudson isn’t just confined to our
marriage and home anymore, as evidenced by this most recent
flareup. I thank God I’ve never been at the receiving end of

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