Beyond Far

Erin Anderson was tired when she and her husband returned home at 11:30 p.m. She collapsed on the second step of the stairs in their front hall and leaned back, resting her elbows on the step behind her. She kicked off her shoes and let them clatter across the marble floor.

     "What's that all about?" Cleve demanded from halfway up the stairs. Aren't you coming to bed?"

     Her head dropped forward. "I hate these affairs where I spend all evening trying to be nice to people who drink too much and where nobody is really having a good time."

     "These 'affairs,' as you call them, aren't optional." Cleve came back down the stairs. "Those people can do favors for me."

     "I'm not sure some of them are people you should be asking favors of."

     "You seem to think being an attorney is something I ought to apologize for. You think you're better than me because you're a preacher's daughter. Well, you were nobody before I married you." He took hold of her arm and tried to raise her from the step.

     "My father would never have treated my mother the way you treat me." She struggled to her feet "Let go of my arm. You're hurting me."

     "I'll hurt more than your arm if you don't help me keep our position in this town." He tightened his grip. "And that means seeing that Jessica behaves herself in school. The other parents know everything that goes on there."

     Be careful. You know how this can end.

     "I love your daughter dearly," Erin kept her voice level. "But she's been a troubled child ever since I've known her. I don't think we should wait any longer to get counseling for her."

     Cleve grabbed both her arms a shook her, his eyes wide, his teeth clenched. "There's nothing wrong with Jessica that having a good mother won't cure. Can't you get that through your head?"

     Erin stiffened so her head wouldn't whip back and forth. I should have known better than to discuss his daughter when he's like this.

     "Stop shaking me." She pushed against his chest with all her strength.

     He staggered and released his grip as he recovered his balance. "Don't get in a shoving match with me."

     She backed away, her hands up in front of her. He reached for her. She turned to run but slipped on the smooth floor in her stocking feet and fell. He grabbed her arms and pulled her up, his eyes cold, his mouth a tight line.

     "Don't hit me!"

     Cleve slapped her hard in the face. She shut her eyes, expecting another blow. When it didn't come, she opened one eye. "We can't go one like this," she gasped, feeling blood run from her nose.

     He stared at her, his gaze merciless and steady. "Don't you ever think of leaving me." He slapped her again, a backhanded blow with all his strength. She slumped, stunned, to the floor. "You can never go far enough to get away from me. Now wash your face and come to bed."

     She raised herself on her arms. I so want to leave this house. But would it be right to leave my husband? What would become of Jessica? I'm glad she's at her grandmother's tonight. What would my father tell me? He said the Bible gave only two reasons for a wife to leave her husband—adultery and abandonment. Would he accept abuse as a third reason? Would God?"

     Cleve's moving one step at a time toward greater violence.  If I endure this marriage much longer, I'm afraid for my life. And he will never let me go. If I leave, he'll find me and bring me back, no matter how far I travel.

     Erin got to her feet. "God, with your help, I'll do what I have to do. I will go beyond far."