The Peaches that Fell

Chapter 4

The Story The Authors

nose hair run tight none

"Elizabeth. Elizabeth? ELIZABETH?!!" Russel began to panic. She'd been standing here talking to him and all of a sudden she had just sort of fainted. And he couldn't do anything about it, not with these restraints on his wrists. Couldn't even call for help. He stared at her intently. What was she thinking about in her unconcious state of mind? About how she'd cheated on him. Ruined him. Totally screwed up his life. He smiled smuggly. Let the bitch have a heart attack for all he cared, it served her right. What was he thinking? This was his Elizabeth, his Angel, lying here on the floor, he couldn't just do nothing. But in all actuallity that was all he could do. His ankles and wrists were binded to the bed: standard hospital procedure. So then what could he do? He had to think. Elizabeth lay out cold on the floor of Russel's room. She was dreaming, or perhaps it wasn't a dream. Perhaps she really was a fighter pilot for the peace corps. Yeah, sure, and she was Mother Teresa too. She was tired of flying anyway. And that person in the back seat of her plane was really getting on her nerves. Hiding as if she didn't know they were there. She was about to just tell them they could come out when she thought of something. What the hell am she doing in an airplane anyway? She was scared of heights. This was the stupidest dream She'd ever had...OW...oh something hurts...ow.....why hadn't she noticed that pain before?....oh it hurt....her head... Elizabeth slowly began to come to. "Elizabeth, Love, are you alright? What happened? Do you hurt? Can you get up?" Russel was nearly delirious with joy. His angel had woken up, she wasn't dead after all. Elizabeth looked at him. "How on earth did I get here?" she demanded. Russel looked at her sharply. "You don't remember?" "Would I ask if I did?" she started to get up then thought better of it. Russel began slowly, "Rememeber, you cheated on me with Jon, I went loony, got put here in the psych ward...four days ago, and you just came to visit me..sound familiar?" She looked at him foggily "Yeah, I remember. I came to tell you I'm sorry, that if I had it to do over again, I'd do everything different. But I can't, so you'll just have to try to forgive me. I'm not asking you to forget it or even like it, just try to forgive, it's all I can ask.." Russel breathed in sharply. His angel was asking him to do something. He could never say no to his angel..."'Liz'beth, I will tell you something. I can't forgive you. I can't forgive you because there's nothing to forgive. I went wrong somewhere, caught the right train, it was just going the wrong way I guess. I can never forget what you did to me, you and Jon, but I can understand now how it would happen, and yes if you want to here it,...I forgive you...you can leave now with a clear concious if you want, and I won't stop you if you go, but know this, I did, I do, and I always will love you. So go back to Jon if you want and lead your happy little lives while I live mine here...or live your own life doing whatever t is you do, but leave me in peace whatever you do, JUST LEAVE ME IN PEACE!" Elizabeth, kneeling beside his bed, lowered her head to his stomach and cried for what seemed like forever. At first she could feel all of the muscles in his body tighten up when she touched him, but as she cried she felt them slowly loosen up and when the last of them relaxed she slowly lifted her head and looked at him. He looked so at home, so at peace, staring at her like that. She kissed him gently on the forehead and turned and walked out the door. She was leaving him at peace. That was what he'd wanted. Natia

It was sprinkling when she reached the sidewalk. "Where was that damned umbrella?" she murmered too herself. Must have left it in Russel's room, but no going back there. Mindlessly she raised her arm and a cabbie pulled to the curb. As she climbed in the back she automatically said Haight Street, but no she couldn't go there she realized. That was where Jon lived and right now that was the last person she wanted to see. "No, don't go there, just take me to the bridge." "Which bridge?" the driver queried. "Any fucking bridge" she retorted angrily. Who was this talking she asked herself, she didn't normally use that kind of language. She closed her eyes and drifted off for what could have been hours. The cabbie woke her with another annoying question, "Miss, we are across the bridge and in Berkeley, where would you like to go now? The fare is $29.40, can you pay it?" The purse, where was her purse? Damn, must be with the umbrella. As he slowed to let a pedestrian cross, she panicked. Like a flash she was out the door and running. Down Telegraph Ave she fled, jostling the street vendors and knocking their wares to the gutter. Finally she could run no more and collapsed on a bench at Sather Gate. "Where am I?" she asked the Rastafarian next to her. He smiled at what he thought was another crazy tourist. The surroundings suddenly took on a familiar tone, she was at the University. Yes, it was the Berkeley campus where in March of 1968 she had been arrested. How ironic, she smiled to herself. Looking up she saw two men approaching, one in uniform and the other was the cab driver. trug

The Story	The Authors
nose hair run tight	none
"Elizabeth. Elizabeth? ELIZABETH?!!" Russel began to panic. She'd been standing here talking to him and all of a sudden she had just sort of fainted. And he couldn't do anything about it, not with these restraints on his wrists. Couldn't even call for help. He stared at her intently. What was she thinking about in her unconcious state of mind? About how she'd cheated on him. Ruined him. Totally screwed up his life. He smiled smuggly. Let the bitch have a heart attack for all he cared, it served her right. What was he thinking? This was his Elizabeth, his Angel, lying here on the floor, he couldn't just do nothing. But in all actuallity that was all he could do. His ankles and wrists were binded to the bed: standard hospital procedure. So then what could he do? He had to think. Elizabeth lay out cold on the floor of Russel's room. She was dreaming, or perhaps it wasn't a dream. Perhaps she really was a fighter pilot for the peace corps. Yeah, sure, and she was Mother Teresa too. She was tired of flying anyway. And that person in the back seat of her plane was really getting on her nerves. Hiding as if she didn't know they were there. She was about to just tell them they could come out when she thought of something. What the hell am she doing in an airplane anyway? She was scared of heights. This was the stupidest dream She'd ever had...OW...oh something hurts...ow.....why hadn't she noticed that pain before?....oh it hurt....her head... Elizabeth slowly began to come to. "Elizabeth, Love, are you alright? What happened? Do you hurt? Can you get up?" Russel was nearly delirious with joy. His angel had woken up, she wasn't dead after all. Elizabeth looked at him. "How on earth did I get here?" she demanded. Russel looked at her sharply. "You don't remember?" "Would I ask if I did?" she started to get up then thought better of it. Russel began slowly, "Rememeber, you cheated on me with Jon, I went loony, got put here in the psych ward...four days ago, and you just came to visit me..sound familiar?" She looked at him foggily "Yeah, I remember. I came to tell you I'm sorry, that if I had it to do over again, I'd do everything different. But I can't, so you'll just have to try to forgive me. I'm not asking you to forget it or even like it, just try to forgive, it's all I can ask.." Russel breathed in sharply. His angel was asking him to do something. He could never say no to his angel..."'Liz'beth, I will tell you something. I can't forgive you. I can't forgive you because there's nothing to forgive. I went wrong somewhere, caught the right train, it was just going the wrong way I guess. I can never forget what you did to me, you and Jon, but I can understand now how it would happen, and yes if you want to here it,...I forgive you...you can leave now with a clear concious if you want, and I won't stop you if you go, but know this, I did, I do, and I always will love you. So go back to Jon if you want and lead your happy little lives while I live mine here...or live your own life doing whatever t is you do, but leave me in peace whatever you do, JUST LEAVE ME IN PEACE!" Elizabeth, kneeling beside his bed, lowered her head to his stomach and cried for what seemed like forever. At first she could feel all of the muscles in his body tighten up when she touched him, but as she cried she felt them slowly loosen up and when the last of them relaxed she slowly lifted her head and looked at him. He looked so at home, so at peace, staring at her like that. She kissed him gently on the forehead and turned and walked out the door. She was leaving him at peace. That was what he'd wanted.	Natia
It was sprinkling when she reached the sidewalk. "Where was that damned umbrella?" she murmered too herself. Must have left it in Russel's room, but no going back there. Mindlessly she raised her arm and a cabbie pulled to the curb. As she climbed in the back she automatically said Haight Street, but no she couldn't go there she realized. That was where Jon lived and right now that was the last person she wanted to see. "No, don't go there, just take me to the bridge." "Which bridge?" the driver queried. "Any fucking bridge" she retorted angrily. Who was this talking she asked herself, she didn't normally use that kind of language. She closed her eyes and drifted off for what could have been hours. The cabbie woke her with another annoying question, "Miss, we are across the bridge and in Berkeley, where would you like to go now? The fare is $29.40, can you pay it?" The purse, where was her purse? Damn, must be with the umbrella. As he slowed to let a pedestrian cross, she panicked. Like a flash she was out the door and running. Down Telegraph Ave she fled, jostling the street vendors and knocking their wares to the gutter. Finally she could run no more and collapsed on a bench at Sather Gate. "Where am I?" she asked the Rastafarian next to her. He smiled at what he thought was another crazy tourist. The surroundings suddenly took on a familiar tone, she was at the University. Yes, it was the Berkeley campus where in March of 1968 she had been arrested. How ironic, she smiled to herself. Looking up she saw two men approaching, one in uniform and the other was the cab driver.	trug

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