Character: MIRIAM … A mother and pie-maker. 60’s +.
Time changes on death row. There is just the time before, and now. And the monotony of the now makes it seem like time isn’t passing at all. There are no landmarks. And then the summons comes and you realize that time has disappeared behind you.
At first, I tried to mark the different visits so Robert could distinguish one from another.
I wore something different each time. I’d say:
“Remember, I wore my blue sweater, the one with the buttons you like.”
Or “That was the time I wore my new green pants.”
But he never remembered.
And he told me to stop. Stop trying to mark time. It doesn’t work in here, he said. The only way to deal with it is to try to ignore it.
But I can’t ignore it. I keep track. I need to keep track.
This is what I have now.
(She dumps the spice mixture on the apples and stirs.)
I’m going to let these sit for a little.
On our Christmas visit, we talked about whether it was better to have a green Christmas or a white one. Robert doesn’t like the snow, I do. On our New Year’s visit, we talked about something he’d heard in the news. The week after that was a tough one. He was… well, his mind was somewhere else. Then, the week after, we talked about Jared’s new job. Jared is Robert’s cousin, or his cousin Melanie’s son, which makes him a second cousin or cousin once removed or… I don’t really know.
Mellie, that’s what Robert called her when they were little. Mellie and Robbie. They were a pair, those two. They were born only a few weeks apart – people thought they were fraternal twins they were so close. It doesn’t seem that long ago that I could hold them both in my lap.
Melanie didn’t believe that he’d done it. Even after the trial, after all the details came out, she refused to believe. She said he couldn’t have killed those kids because she still loved him and she could never love someone who’d done that…
I let her keep loving him.
