Short Fiction
looking back at him. Every time he tried to form a thought all he could think of was the photograph of Caitlin he had taken out of his wallet at lunchtime. It was a picture of her swimming at the city pool and it somehow captured her quiet and nervous energy. He had made a promise to himself to never look at it, especially not at work, but things sometimes happened. The silence in the classroom seemed to grow and so did his sense of the awkward way he was standing; one arm raised partway, a worn piece of chalk clutched between his fingers. But still he couldn’t move, or speak, or do anything except stare straight ahead. Eventually, someone in the front row coughed and Williams turned to face the blackboard where he saw an isosceles triangle he had drawn moments ago. He quickly scribbled the proof he had been talking about, took a deep breath, and resumed at least close to where he had left off. Over the next few minutes his mind cleared a little more but he had no conception of the reason behind what he was teaching. If one of the more sarcastic kids were to raise their hand and say, Why do we need to know this? he probably wouldn’t have the answer. Because you need to pass Geometry to get your diploma. He might say that, if they really pressed him. He hadn’t seen her, really seen her, since Labor Day weekend. They were supposed to have gone on a trip together to her parents cabin in northern Michigan. The cabin was built next to a lake and they went every year for the swimming, tubing, and fishing. This would be the first time in years she would go without her husband. Williams had been surprised at the invitation. They were drinking coffee one morning, her kids quietly playing in the next room, and she leaned over and touched his knee. He remembered staring at her hand, the chipped fingernails contrasting with the perfect shape and color of her fingers. It was her right hand, the hand without the ring, and he had wanted to attach some significance to the fact. “Terry,” she had said. “I have something to ask you. I guess you’d call it a favor.” He knew he’d say yes to whatever she asked of him. He still remembered what she said after she invited him, I don’t want to be alone up there. At the time he didn’t think to mention that she wouldn’t really be alone; her two daughters would be there too. He started packing for the trip later that day even though they weren’t going till next week. His bathing suit was faded and smelled of mothballs so he went out and bought a new one. He also bought sunscreen, beach towels, beach toys, and two plastic fishing rods for the girls. Probably Caitlin already had that kind of stuff – or at least they would find it at the cabin – but he wanted everything just in case. He knew it Atticus Review│Get Lit: Round 1
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