An Absent Mind by Eric Rill Read Free Book Online

ear. Then he put on his kindest face and asked me if I would mind waiting in the conference room across the hall for just a few minutes. I started to shake, but I stood up, pushed back my shoulders, and left the office.
    It was as if Saul had stabbed me with the big knife in the top drawer by the stove. Why do I stay with this man? A man who doesn’t trust me. A man who feels he has to control me.
    I gave up everything for him—my religion, my identity, and, yes, even my freedom. I wanted to go back to school to get a college degree. Saul would have none of it. He said it wasn’t worth it. Frankly, I think he didn’t want me to be out of the house for too long. He always complained that I didn’t have a job, but if I tried, and I did, no matter how small it was without a degree, he would somehow find a way to stop me. And if he couldn’t, he would belittle me. And I, like an idiot, would let him do so. Sometimes I think God is punishing me for leaving the Church. Not that I had been a zealot, but I did attend Mass every Sunday and went to confession when necessary, or should I say, when I was racked with guilt.
    Regardless, I belonged to something. Now what do I belong to? We’re not members of any clubs or any community organizations anymore. And except for the High Holidays, we don’t attend services at the synagogue. And when we do go, I look around and feel so out of place, like I’m not one of them. And I guess I’m not.
    The bottom line is, I belong to Saul, like a piece of chattel. I have always felt I had to be on call for his every whim and desire and that I couldn’t have a normal social life with any of my old friends.
    Saul doesn’t like it if I speak French. I think it’s because his French is limited, and when I am with other French people in a social situation with him, he isn’t in control. He’s basically alienated my old friends by making what I believe were intentional comments that could be perceived as bigoted—borderline things, but whatever they were, they were offensive enough so that most of them don’t call anymore.
    You may be thinking to yourself, if she wanted to have a life, why didn’t she just go out and do it? It wasn’t that easy. He was domineering and overbearing and could make me feel so small—so wrong, even when I knew I was right. Nothing I did ever seemed to please him. Now, though, he needs me. So what am I going to do? Leave him? No, I’ve made my lot in life. And for better or worse, I’m Saul’s wife.
    They were in there for thirty-four minutes—I timed it. Nat knocked on the door and came into the conference room alone. His face was cheerless as he told me in a halting voice that in his opinion Saul was too far gone to execute either a living mandate or a will. So the will and living mandate that he had modified five years ago would remain valid. I never knew he’d changed them five years ago, so I wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Saul

    My Will
    S he’s pushing me around like some kind of kid in the playground. I mean, I’m still okay, not gone off the deep end—yet. Why can’t she just let me be? Let me have the last whatever time I have to be happy. But that’s not her style. She’s still as pushy as ever, still the master controller. Still wants to run the damn show.
    Today was a perfect example. She must have called Nat Friedman sometime during the night. I heard some noises while I was tossing and turning in bed. At first, I thought it was the cat, but I don’t think we have one. And besides, the sounds were too big. So it must have been her in cahoots with Friedman. I’ve suspected them for a long time. They’re trying to steal my money, making sure my final days are miserable and denying the kids what is rightfully theirs. Friedman was always a money-grubber. One of those two-bit lawyers who prey on their clients by jacking up fees to whatever they think they can get away with. He’s done it to me, to Arthur Winslow, to