A Taste of Bitterness

The Taste of Bitterness - Norman A. Rubin

The queue at the cafeteria's rail counter moved slowly. Patrons,
shoving aluminium trays along the attached shining shelf, carefully
chose dishes to their taste and purse. A pause ensued when hesitant
hands carefully lifted plates of chosen food; then with a thought of
two placed the choice on their individual trays.
Mrs. B..... was counted as one of the customers standing in the queue
at the crowded cafeteria. She was one of the many unknown souls that
existed in a non-caring world. The woman could be described as a stout
middle-aged housewife, somewhat thrifty in appearance. The winter coat
she wore was slighty shabby from continual use; a knit-ted woolen cap,
discoloured and frayed, covered the grey of her hair; the booted heavy
brogues were scuffed in use and outdated in fashion.
Mrs B.....'s careworn facial features told of a hidden misery that
dampened her very being. It was seen in her tear-filled pale grey eyes,
etched on her wrinkled brow, and lined with bitterness on her thin
chapped lips. Her movements were hesitant, burdened with thoughts that
rumbled through her unquiet mind. Thoughts that burned with the
brooding of taking the steps to her final end to life, a welcomed
relief to the miseries and sorrows that overflowed her bitter cup. The
troubled woman's fitful mind repeated over and over her careful plan,
worked out in the wakeful hours of the past night.
Mrs. B...... moved slowly along the counter searching with her eyes at
the plates of food displayed, until a lettuce and tomato sandwich
garnished with mayonnaise caught her attention. "Tis be right fer what
ah need," she contemplated. Her rough-skinned hand lifted the dish and
placed it on her server. A dispensed cup of coffee completed her
choice.
She moved slowly to the checker. Two dollars and fifty cents was her
tabulated bill. Nervously she withdrew a small purse from her peeling
pseudo-leather handbag. Various coins was taken from the case, counted
carefully, and passed to the impatient cashier.
The woman clasped her handbag under the elbow of her right arm, grasped
the aluminum tray tightly in both hands, and left the confines of the
counter. She looked about the cafeteria for an empty table, till she
spotted a place in a quiet corner.
Mrs. B.... moved quickly as the heaviness of her thick and veined legs
allowed. It was a table suitable for two, just right for her needs. She
placed the tray on the table with a slight clatter, and, alongside, she
put her handbag. Then, without opening her coat or removing her cap,
the woman pulled out one of the wooden chairs from under the table.
With a deep sigh she placed the heaviness of her body on its
hardness.
The matron just sat and stared at the stained white of the nearby wall,
without bothering to partake of the food or drink. Her eyes overflowed
with tears which ran down her frosted cheeks. She remained rigid in her
misery, just staring.
A few moments passed when Mrs B..... reached out to her handbag for a
handkerchief to dry her tears. As she dried her reddened eyes, her mind
ruminated on the agony of her life that has plagued her very existence.
After a while the poor creature exclaimed in a muted angry voice, "What
th' hell... T'ain't no use carrin' on... Must put an end to th'
troubles once an' fer all...."
Without further thought, the pathetic women hurredly searched through
her handbag until she grasped a small glass container. The vial,
labeled with a medical issue and signaled with an red emblem of a
warning, was removed from the purse. With shaking hands Mrs. B.... open
its plastic cover and gazed at the white crystal powder. "Must do it
now... Must do it now.... and git it over!"
Carefully Mrs. B.... turned her head and furtively searched through the
cafeteria to see if the other patrons had noticed her. But, to her
relief, she saw that the various people were mainly interested in the
food of their choice; all bowed to their plates in the task of eating
and drinking.
Without any further thought, the matron sprinkled some of the white
grains into her coffee, mixing the contents with the dark fluid. Then
she open the sandwich, sprinkling a bit of the powder on a large slice
of tomato; then lifting the vegetable roughly with a chapped finger,
she sprayed the remainder of the bottle onto the lettuce leaves, mixing
the crystals in the yellow of the mayonnaise spread. Quickly she sealed
the contents with the white slice of the loaf.
Mrs B.... stared at the cup of coffee and sandwich filled with her
handiwork. Her thoughts spun crazily through her head; thoughts of
events, with its endless string of troubles, which brought her to this
miserable state.
Mrs. B...,'s contemplation carried her to the recent past. The order of
her life, with a caring husband and a dutiful grown son, had changed
drastically. Whether it was an accident or planned Mrs. B.... found
herself with child. The doctors warned of pregnancy in her advanced age
with its various medical complications. The warning was heard and she
and her husband discussed the issue with its pros of having another
child, and the cons of the warnings of the doctors. But in the end,
they agreed, with hesitation to bring forth new life.
True to the words of the doctors, the baby, embodied with girlish
features, was born deformed. Her appearance was of a demon incarnate
with pointed hairy ears, a devil's smirk on the mouth and accusing
unseeing black eyes set deep in its sockets. The child's body was not
of an infant. The miserable creature was shaped like the workings of
evil spirits with crooked hairy arms ending in large pointed fingers;
and her bent stumpy legs were that of a imp, and not of a
newly-born.
At the birth, advice was passed to both parents that the infant be
placed in a caring institution, but Mrs. B..... ignored it, despite her
husbands's protestations. She took no warnings from the medical staff
that told of a short life span for the infant and of the hard-ships she
will face in rearing her. "Th' baby was her child, an' she will care
for her," she reasoned "Tis' th' will of th' blessed Lord. "
Secretly, the couple had the child baptized at their church and blessed
by the understanding priest. After the brief ceremony the infant was
brought into couple's home, and placed lovingly by her endearing mother
in a newly bought crib.
Through its short term of life the child created havoc, upsetting the
daily routine of life in the household; the baby cried and screamed
continuously, only resting in short intervals. Mrs. B.&;#8230;
endured the hardships and carefully nutured her baby. She breast-fed it
despite the child's growing pointed teeth that scarred and pained her
nipples. Her life was centered on the care of her newborn, ignoring her
other duties.
Even her other child, a dutiful, caring son, was also hardly noticed
during this period. She did what was necessary towards him in her daily
tasks, rarely asking of his welfare or bothering to inquire of his
varied activities. There were few words spoken when he came to her for
advise, for a thought on the daily occurences, or for a well- deserved
compliment on his achievments. And on the day of his eighteenth year,
when he was called to war in an Asian country, the woman neglected her
motherly duties and sent him to battle with only a few caring words;
she coupled her terse phrases of farewell with the blessing of the Good
Lord.
There were no answers to this curse as the couple was righteous in
their ways. The whispered tongues that told of the small creature being
Satan's child and through the womb of Mrs. B... entered into life. Its
appearance, they hushed, spread evil to all that neared, but they were
only the words of gossipers.
The husband endured the ugly site and the nerve-wracking temper of the
child for only a few months before seeking companionship in a nearby
bar, until the day he just walked away from the hearth, never to
return. Neigbors and kin folk feared the strangeness of the so-called
demon-child, rumoured through tongues, and they politely rejected any
offer of visits.
The misery passed slowly in its pace, but redemption finally came when
the little child mercifully passed away after three short years of
life. It was silence in the home; nobody passed through its portals and
offered condolences after the simple funeral except for the priest and
an elder sister. All was quiet and empty.
But the devil entered and flung one last curse upon Mrs. B..... During
the period of her reverie, the quiet of the hour was shattered with the
pealing of the front door bell. Standing at the entrance to her home
was a messenger with a telegram. Mrs. B..... grabbed the envelope and,
with nervous hands, tore it open. She cried bitter tears as the fading
painful words told of a loss in the duty to his country. The evilness
still haunted her existence and the thought of ending life entered her
mind.
"T'ain't no use puttin' it off..., she brooded with the tremble of
agitation. She grasped the sandwich in both hands, looked at the white
of the slices filled with its grisly contents, and, after a moment or
so, returned it to the plate.
Then her trembling hands grasped the still-warm cup of coffee. Her lips
touched the rim of the ceramic container, but the contents remained
untouched. Slowly she returned the cup to the aluminium tray.
Through the misery rumbling through her mind she remembered the fiery
sermon of her vicar that thundered out the punishment for the act of
taking one's life. His lasting words told of how the soul of those who
have taken this way will wander forever through limbo, never resting.
The threatening words burned deeply in her innermost thoughts and
caused her to have an imagined deep fear of the fiery curse of eternal
damnation. Fire and brimstone flamed in her mind. Then with a set mind,
she chose her plaguey curse as the lesser of the two evils.
"Can't do it... can't do it... tis' a cardinal sin..."
Mrs. B.... shoved the aluminum tray with the untasted coffee and
sandwich to the middle of the table. She stared for a moment or two at
them before shuffling the chair from the table. Slowly she lifted her
tired frame from the hardness of the wood and, without hesitation, made
her way from the cafeteria; her footfalls treaded heavily on the worn
linoleum floor.
A non-descript foul dressed bag lady was the only witness to the
hesitant actions of the matronly woman. The hag was there in the eatery
in her daily task of mooching leftover food, which she placed in one of
her many worn shopping bags. Her aged rheumy eyes searched about the
cafeteria for a sign of leftover edibles, till she spotted Mrs. B...
pushing aside her food and leaving the premises. She glimmered in
sickening joy as she spotted the uneaten sandwich centered in the
corner table. The creature of misery lifted her bony legs and hustled
to the spot. With a quick snatch, her trembling hand seized the
treasure of her delight; then she hurriedly placed the catch in the
safety of one of her dirty bags.
"Get th' hell away from there..," a fuming voice was hurdled towards
her. The bag lady turned and saw the angry presence of the irate
manager standing close to her. He aimed a threatening pointed finger at
her as he told the creature of misery in a few short tempered words
that she was warned many times to stay clear from the eatery. He yelled
at her, threatening that the forces of the law will be notified if she
was was seen again in the premises. The furtive woman snarled and
muttered curses at her adversary. Then she dodged the feared sight of
the manager and, crablike, scurried away.
Outside, the bag lady searched about and, seeing the alley next to the
cafeteria as a quiet and secure refuge, she scampered towards it. She
searched through the narrow passage, lined on one side with
dumpsters, cartons and assorted junk. The pitiful creature shuffled
through a rubbish-strewn path until she found a quiet niche, etched in
a brick wall of a building. She ruminated a bit before accepting the
spot as being suitable to her immediate needs.
The place was fouled with debris, and it took a few kicks of her foot
to clear a space for her to place her miserable body and the dirtiness
of her possessions. Then, without further fuss, she heaped her body on
the dirt of alley with her back on the nearby brickwork. Her miserly
possessions heaped alongside. Then, with a cackle on her lips, she
searched through one of her bags, and removed the dripping
sandwich.
She gripped the contents in her unwashed hands and directed it towards
her the opening of her mouth. Saliva drooled from her cracked lips; her
poorly fitted dentures clattered as she struggled to contain their
erratic movement... With a bit of effort, she suceeded in tearing a
part from the sandwich with her loose teeth, and .....