Where I'm Calling From

I guess.
    But I don’t want to interfere in anything.”
    “Not in the least,” my wife said. “I don’t want to be any trouble, but I’m—well, I’m distressed just now.
    Yes, I’m distressed. But it’ll be all right once I’m away from here. Away from this awful place. I’ll just check and make doubly sure I haven’t left anything behind. Anything important,” she added. She hesitated and then she said, “This isn’t as sudden as it looks. It’s been coming for a long, long time.
    We’ve been married for a good many years. Good times and bad, up times and down. We’ve had them all. But it’s time I was on my own. Yes, it’s time. Do you know what I’m saying, gentlemen?”
    Frank took off his hat again and turned it around in his hands as if examining the brim. Then he put it back on his head.
    The deputy said, “These things happen. Lord knows none of us is perfect. We weren’t made perfect. The only angels is to be found in Heaven.” My wife moved toward the house, picking her way through the wet, shaggy grass in her high heels. She opened the front door and went inside. I could see her moving behind the lighted windows, and something came to me then. I might never see her again. That’s what crossed my mind, and it staggered me.
    The rancher, the deputy, and I stood around waiting, not saying anything. The damp fog drifted between us and the lights from their vehicles. I could hear the horses shifting in the trailer. We were all uncomfortable, I think. But I’m speaking only for myself, of course. I don’t know what they felt. Maybe they saw things like this happen every night—saw people’s lives flying apart. The deputy did, maybe. But Frank, the rancher, he kept his eyes lowered. He put his hands in his front pockets and then took them out again. He kicked at something in the grass. I folded my arms and went on standing there, not knowing what was going to happen next. The deputy kept turning off his flashlight and then turning it on again. Every so often he’d reach out and swat the fog with it. One of the horses whinnied from the trailer, and then the other horse whinnied, too.
    “A fellow can’t see anything in this fog,” Frank said.
    I knew he was saying it to make conversation.
    “It’s as bad as I’ve ever seen it,” the deputy said. Then he looked over at me. He didn’t shine the light in my eyes this time, but he said something. He said, “Why’s she leaving you? You hit her or something?
    Give her a smack, did you?”
    “I’ve never hit her,” I said. “Not in all the time we’ve been married. There was reason enough a few times, but I didn’t. She hit me once,” I said.
    “Now, don’t get started,” the deputy said. “I don’t want to hear any crap tonight. Don’t say anything, and there won’t be anything. No rough stuff. Don’t even think it. There isn’t going to be any trouble here tonight, is there?”
    The deputy and Frank were watching me. I could tell Frank was embarrassed. He took out his makings and began to roll a cigarette.
    “No,” I said. “No trouble.”
    My wife came onto the porch and picked up her suitcase. I had the feeling that not only had she taken a last look around but she’d used the opportunity to freshen herself up, put on new lipstick, etc. The deputy held his flashlight for her as she came down the steps. “Right this way, Ma’am,” he said. “Watch your step, now—it’s slippery.”
    “I’m ready to go,” she said.
    “Right,” Frank said. “Well, just to make sure we got this all straight now.” He took off his hat once more and held it. “I’ll carry you into town and I’ll drop you off at the bus station. But, you understand, I don’t want to be in the middle of something. You know what I mean.” He looked at my wife, and then he looked at me.
    “That’s right,” the deputy said. “You said a mouthful. Statistics show that your domestic dispute is, time and again, potentially the most dangerous situation a person, especially a law-enforcement officer, can get himself involved in. But I think this situation is going to be the shining exception. Right, folks?”
    My wife looked at me and said, “I don’t think I’ll kiss you. No, I won’t kiss you good-bye. I’ll just say so long. Take care of yourself.”
    “That’s right,” the deputy said. “Kissing—who knows what that’ll lead to, right?” He laughed.
    I had the feeling they were all waiting for me to say something. But