The Night Of Denials. THE NIGHT OF DENIALS. In a seaside boarding house in the night a man called Peter is in his bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of his bed wearing red pyjamas underneath an old blue dressing gown. He stared out at the room. After a few moments, he got off the bed, walked to a dressing table, and stared in a mirror. He said to himself, I am the great denier. A betrayer of sorts, I suppose you could say. Have you ever denied you knew someone whom you really did know? I did. I denied someone I knew very well. So why did I deny I knew him? He was like a brother to me. No, he was more than that. He was someone really special. A kind of once-in-a-lifetime sort of man. A friend who was more than a friend. A man who was more than a man. And I denied I knew him. Want to know why? Cowardice. Self-preservation. Fear. Anyone of those may be the answer to why I denied this man. But it doesn’t excuse what I did. I did what I did and I must try to live with that. But it isn’t easy. You see, this man, who I denied knowing, was arrested and others along with him. I was questioned, but denied knowing anything about him. I was released and free to go. He, however, was found guilty after a mock trial and executed. He died. Or so it goes. Peter paused and sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Some of those who were part of this man’s group said he survived or that he escaped or that he somehow or other was revived and is still around. But I know he died. As I know I denied knowing him. And I know who betrayed him. He died also. He hanged himself some time back. I came close to that myself many a time. Peter paused again and looked at his hands and wiped them on his dressing gown. Some nights I hear myself deny knowing this man all over again. Denying him over and over again, night in night out in the same haunting dream. Have you had that? Have you sweated in your dream from fear and disgust with yourself and what you’ve done? He closed his eyes. Sometimes in this dream I want to say, Yes, I know him. Sure I know him. But I don’t. I just repeat the same denying formula night after night. And whom can I tell? Paul? Mary? No. They’ve got enough of their own baggage to carry without having to help carry mine as well. It’s just that a man can only carry this baggage for so long before he falls or slips or throws himself in to the dark pit of his own despair and drowns himself. The door opened and Mary entered. Peter didn’t hear he just stood with his eyes still closed. I am the great denier of light. The betrayer of all that was good and honest and light and… He opened his eyes. Stared ahead. Peace. Mary walked slowly to the bed. I’m afraid to sleep at night because I am frightened of the dream and my next denial. He became aware of Mary’s presence and turned around as she stood by the bed. What is it you want? Mary said, I want to see you. Can’t it wait until morning? Peter said. No, Mary said and sat on the bed facing Peter. I want to see you now. Peter sighed and said, What’s so important that you have to see me now? He walked to the bed. Where’s Paul? Aren’t you with him? Mary said, I’ve come from him. I came to see you. Peter sat on the bed. Did you sleep with him? Mary nodded. Yes. She paused. If they had only let me keep my baby I would have made a good mother I know I would. Peter stared passed her. Yes. I was the great denier. I’ve told no one. I’ve carried this around me since that fateful night. The angel said it would be possible to change things for the better, Mary said. I could have had courage and he may have lived on or I could have carried on what he started, Peter said. Mary stared at Peter’s hands. My father denied I was his daughter for years. I could have made it possible for things to be changed for the better, Peter said. Mary stretched out her hand to touch Peter but he moved away a few inches. He was the denier of all deniers. He denied me my baby, she said. Peter said, With courage I could have been someone better and have done things better. He paused. Did you? What? Mary asked. Sleep with him. Who? Paul, Peter said. Mary nodded. Yes. She paused. He denied me the chance to be a good mother. The world could have been changed for the better and not be as it is now, Peter said. Mary clutched her hands tightly. He denied me my innocence. He denied me my purity. He wouldn’t believe what I said about the angel and what the angel said and what happened to me was as the angel said. She began to sob quietly, placing her hands over her face. Peter sighed and seemed to ignore the sobbing. You only get that one chance. And if you blow it, that’s it. The whole thing becomes a complete waste of time. I blew my chance. I denied it. I, the great denier. He stopped and stared at Mary. I thought you and he were up to something. I could sense it. I could sense it in my bones. Mary rose from the bed wiping her eyes on her white night dress. She turned and moved around the bed to where Peter was sitting and stood looking down at him. Peter looked up at her. Can a person love two people at one time? she asked. Peter shrugged his shoulders. Can a person love at all? Mary said, Why was I denied? Some people love too much and others not enough or not at all, Peter said. Mary said, I could have made a good mother. Some people die too soon and others not soon enough, Peter said. Mary leaned down and kissed Peter’s forehead. Paul sent me to you. Peter said, Why? What does he want from me? Mary stood back and allowed Peter to stand up and look at her. He wants to take me with him. Where? He didn’t say, Mary replied. Peter said, Will you go? Mary said, I want to stay with you, but I think he needs me to be with him. So what do you want from me? said Peter, my blessing? Mary nodded. Yes. She paused. I’ve lived in a sort of limbo since my baby was taken from me. Peter said, I didn’t want to deny him. I didn’t think I would. I thought I’d even die for him, but when the time came I denied him. Mary stared through her damp eyes. Maybe that’s my punishment. Maybe that’s my torment. Peter sighed deeply. I am doomed now. I am my own demon. He paused. I can’t deny you your freedom to go with him. I’ll miss you. Mary said, I’ll come back as soon as I can. I won’t let you down. I won’t give you up forever. Peter embraced Mary. When will you go? Tomorrow night, Mary said. Peter said, Can you stay with me tonight? Mary nodded. Yes. She paused. If only I could have held my baby for a few hours. Peter said, If only I had said, I know this man, he is innocent of any crime except to love too much. But I didn’t. I denied him. If only I could have held him and felt his warm body next to mine, Mary said. Peter said, I should have loved him and held him. I should have kissed his cheek and little hands, Mary said weeping softly. I should not I have denied him, Peter said. Mary said, I ought to have said I love you, to him. She paused. I want to stay with you and kiss you and feel your body next to mine. I can’t deny you that. I won’t deny you my warmth, Peter said. Mary said, Forgive me. She held Peter close. My baby. Peter said, I should have loved him. They kissed and then climbed into bed. The light dimmed. Silence fell upon the room. In a seaside boarding house in the night a man called Peter is in his bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of his bed wearing red pyjamas underneath an old blue dressing gown. He stared out at the room. After a few moments, he got off the bed, walked to a dressing table, and stared in a mirror. He said to himself, I am the great denier. A betrayer of sorts, I suppose you could say. Have you ever denied you knew someone whom you really did know? I did. I denied someone I knew very well. So why did I deny I knew him? He was like a brother to me. No, he was more than that. He was someone really special. A kind of once-in-a-lifetime sort of man. A friend who was more than a friend. A man who was more than a man. And I denied I knew him. Want to know why? Cowardice. Self-preservation. Fear. Anyone of those may be the answer to why I denied this man. But it doesn’t excuse what I did. I did what I did and I must try to live with that. But it isn’t easy. You see, this man, who I denied knowing, was arrested and others along with him. I was questioned, but denied knowing anything about him. I was released and free to go. He, however, was found guilty after a mock trial and executed. He died. Or so it goes. Peter paused and sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Some of those who were part of this man’s group said he survived or that he escaped or that he somehow or other was revived and is still around. But I know he died. As I know I denied knowing him. And I know who betrayed him. He died also. He hanged himself some time back. I came close to that myself many a time. Peter paused again and looked at his hands and wiped them on his dressing gown. Some nights I hear myself deny knowing this man all over again. Denying him repeatedly, night in night out in the same haunting dream. Have you had that? Have you sweated in your dream from fear and disgust with yourself and what you’ve done? He closed his eyes. Sometimes in this dream I want to say, Yes, I know him. Sure, I know him. But I don’t. I just repeat the same denying formula night after night. And whom can I tell? Paul? Mary? No. They’ve got enough of their own baggage to carry without having to help carry mine as well. It’s just that a man can only carry this baggage for so long before he falls or slips or throws himself in to the dark pit of his own despair and drowns himself. The door opened and Mary entered. Peter didn’t hear he just stood with his eyes still closed. I am the great denier of light. The betrayer of all that was good and honest and light and… He opened his eyes. Stared ahead. Peace. Mary walked slowly to the bed. I’m afraid to sleep at night because I am frightened of the dream and my next denial. He became aware of Mary’s presence and turned around as she stood by the bed. What is it you want? Mary said, I want to see you. Can’t it wait until morning? Peter said. No, Mary said and sat on the bed facing Peter. I want to see you now. Peter sighed and said, What’s so important that you have to see me now? He walked to the bed. Where’s Paul? Aren’t you with him? Mary said, I’ve come from him. I came to see you. Peter sat on the bed. Did you sleep with him? Mary nodded. Yes. She paused. If they had only let me keep my baby, I would have made a good mother I know I would. Peter stared passed her. Yes. I was the great denier. I’ve told no one. I’ve carried this around me since that fateful night. The angel said it would be possible to change things for the better, Mary said. I could have had courage and he may have lived on or I could have carried on what he started, Peter said. Mary stared at Peter’s hands. My father denied I was his daughter for years. I could have made it possible for things to be changed for the better, Peter said. Mary stretched out her hand to touch Peter but he moved away a few inches. He was the denier of all deniers. He denied me my baby, she said. Peter said, With courage I could have been someone better and have done things better. He paused. Did you? What? Mary asked. Sleep with him. Who? Paul, Peter said. Mary nodded. Yes. She paused. He denied me the chance to be a good mother. The world could have been changed for the better and not be as it is now, Peter said. Mary clutched her hands tightly. He denied me my innocence. He denied me my purity. He wouldn’t believe what I said about the angel and what the angel said and what happened to me was as the angel said. She began to sob quietly, placing her hands over her face. Peter sighed and seemed to ignore the sobbing. You only get that one chance. And if you blow it, that’s it. The whole thing becomes a complete waste of time. I blew my chance. I denied it. I, the great denier. He stopped and stared at Mary. I thought you and he were up to something. I could sense it. I could sense it in my bones. Mary rose from the bed wiping her eyes on her white night dress. She turned and moved around the bed to where Peter was sitting and stood looking down at him. Peter looked up at her. Can a person love two people at one time? she asked. Peter shrugged his shoulders. Can a person love at all? Mary said, Why was I denied? Some people love too much and others not enough or not at all, Peter said. Mary said, I could have made a good mother. Some people die too soon and others not soon enough, Peter said. Mary leaned down and kissed Peter’s forehead. Paul sent me to you. Peter said, Why? What does he want from me? Mary stood back and allowed Peter to stand up and look at her. He wants to take me with him. Where? He didn’t say, Mary replied. Peter said, Will you go? Mary said, I want to stay with you, but I think he needs me to be with him. So what do you want from me? said Peter, my blessing? Mary nodded. Yes. She paused. I’ve lived in a sort of limbo since my baby was taken from me. Peter said, I didn’t want to deny him. I didn’t think I would. I thought I’d even die for him, but when the time came, I denied him. Mary stared through her damp eyes. Maybe that’s my punishment. Maybe that’s my torment. Peter sighed deeply. I am doomed now. I am my own demon. He paused. I can’t deny you your freedom to go with him. I’ll miss you. Mary said, I’ll come back as soon as I can. I won’t let you down. I won’t give you up forever. Peter embraced Mary. When will you go? Tomorrow night, Mary said. Peter said, Can you stay with me tonight? Mary nodded. Yes. She paused. If only I could have held my baby for a few hours. Peter said, If only I had said, I know this man, he is innocent of any crime except to love too much. But I didn’t. I denied him. If only I could have held him and felt his warm body next to mine, Mary said. Peter said, I should have loved him and held him. I should have kissed his cheek and little hands, Mary said weeping softly. I should not I have denied him, Peter said. Mary said, I ought to have said I love you, to him. She paused. I want to stay with you and kiss you and feel your body next to mine. I can’t deny you that. I won’t deny you my warmth, Peter said. Mary said, Forgive me. She held Peter close. My baby. Peter said, I should have loved him. They kissed and then climbed into bed. The light dimmed. Silence fell upon the room.
Copyright © 2011 Terry Collett |