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The Shadow Knows by Charles G Gray
Saturday, October 26, 2019
Rated "G" by the Author.
A dark view of how the daemons in our unconscious minds or shadow (Carl Jung) affect our actions and are passed on to our children.
We sat in the car on a dark moonless night…waiting for something. I did not know then for what…but we were waiting for something. The only light was the streetlight behind us. Its single bulb hung by a wire, occasionally swinging under the white shade as the wind gusted through the trees. The shadows moved silently across the unpaved road in a sometimes quickened and anxious dance. The car interior was dimly lit by the faint glow from the car radio precariously tuned to the only station my mother liked. The windows were open and an occasional breeze mercifully blew some of her cigarette smoke out of the car.
I did not know why we were parked on this side street, next to the elementary school. I knew it would anger her to ask, as she was clearly on edge. She said nothing as she moved the cigarette slowly to her ruby red lips to extract another puff of smoke. It was as if a primal metronome coordinated her puffs to the gusts of breeze. I am pretty sure she was not aware of the rhythm as the tip brightened with each puff and lit her smooth features. She seemed to be focused up the street a few houses, but I did not know which one. She was unaware of the dark recess of her being that was directing her attention. I was just along for…I did not know why I was along, except she did not want to leave me alone at home. I would have preferred to be home…alone, but I was there, waiting with her. Her conscious mind was unaware of how the short circuit with her subconscious mind had determined her actions. Only her Shadow knew why we were there.
The Tennessee Waltz by Patti Page finished and the program of the hour began. The narrator began in a rich deep voice, “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows.” but I did not listen. I was transfixed on her gaze as she intently watched the house up the street. I began to squirm as a little as the moisture accumulated between my legs and the plastic covers on the car seat. It was not real comfortable on a hot August night. I could feel the sweat drip on my forehead… maybe it would wash some of the freckles away.
Another birthday had come and gone and another year of school approached. I did not know how precious life could become. Time passed slowly as I tried to focus on things other than getting punished for something…or nothing. I had no idea how this and other moments like it would color my future life…how dark the shadows could become as the years passed. I only knew that I did not understand. I did not realize how the darkness in her soul would affect me. If the Shadow knew her secrets, he did not tell me. He also did not tell me how her shadows would become lodged in my mind and haunt me for so many years masquerading as motivations or excuses.
A man emerged from a house three up from where we were sitting. The light in the street was dim with a little highlight added by the porch light. She sat a little more upright, adjusting her glasses, studying the man. Although I could not see him very well, he looked a little familiar, but I did not know why. She quickly and angrily stuffed out her cigarette in the ashtray, while I think she mumbled, mostly to herself, “Bastard!” A figure behind the screen door waved goodbye as the man got into the car and drove away. We sat in continued silence, except for the radio dramatization of The Shadow for what seemed like a long time. I was afraid she was going to blame me for something. I did not know what…but something. She had a habit of punishing me for things that had never happened. I sat as still as I could and flinched a little as she suddenly reached to start the car. The ’53 Packard engine roared to life. She punched the “D” button on the shift pad and drove away. I breathed a silent sigh of relief as we drove off and I had not been blamed or punished for anything, but the night was young and I was not in bed yet.
You certainly got the period right, right down to chain smoking cigarettes. Made me remember my mother leaving my twin brother and I in the car when she went to get groceries… "You slow me down…" And we either had the windows up or down depending upon the weather… Not hot like South Florida and sometimes had the radio on for our entertainment while we fidgeted. In 15 minutes flat, she was back in the car with two armfuls of groceries.
And I like the way you leave the reader suspended, not knowing exactly who the man was but knowing that there was some kind infidelity going on that had to be verified and was. Cool. Probably from your own experience like mine above.
Made me also remember pushing the D button on my 57 DeSoto so that it would shift into drive. But also remember that while listening to the radio music down by the river with my sweetheart, the battery went dead and we had to walk back 1/2 mile to get my Dad to jumpstart my car and get it home. Those Packards probably had six volt batteries that wouldn't last an hour with the radio on.
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