CARRIE & JON, 6 Nov 2016

Jon stood rigid, lips tight, arms crossed as Carrie read him the riot act in their cramped kitchen.

“I can’t believe that anybody—fucking anybody—would vote for that sexist, moronic … con-man!”

“Honey, I think—” Jon started, but Carrie slammed her hand down on the kitchen desk. 

“He is just a two-bit white collar criminal, for God’s sake!”

“Yeah … he’s had many civil cases in court and such, but he hasn’t been found guilty of something criminal yet. You have to respect that.”

“‘Respect’?! Like the way he respects other people, the way he talks about anyone—like the poor fowk trying to swim the Rio Grande with children on their back. As if someone does that for fun?!”

Jon frowned. He was in uniform and already five minutes too late. As state trooper in Yuma it wasn’t his job to take care of whoever crossed the border river, only the roads. But of course, it wasn’t always easy to keep things separate like that.

“Banning all Muslims from coming into the U.S.—I mean, what is he thinking?!” Carrie threw a lone plate into the sink. Luckily it was one of Michael’s plastic plates, the only ones he used for the only food he ate—bread.

She turned away from Jon, and held out her hands like she was looking for someone to choke. “And building a wall along the—you know, I lived in a city with a fucking wall. That solved so many problems.”

“Carrie—”

“Jesus Christ, what is this country coming to?”

“Well, you got dual citizenship … ”

Carrie whirled around. “You’re saying I can just go back to Scotland, or what?”

“That’s not what I wanted to say.”

“Jon—it’s just so damn predictable. There was a woman running for president. In the end it all came down to that, didn’t it?”

“Look, if you just—“

“I’m not saying all men are like that, but believe me, I think quite a few think that Hillary—”

“—Carrie!”

She stopped. 

For a moment, they could just hear their own breaths.

Carrie’s mom had taken the children to school. So there was no noise at all right now. 

Which was eerie in a house, where one child was autistic … and the other was a betweenager with too many speculations about the world, her body, her parents, her guilt about being born normal … 

Emma and Michael were in school. 

Perhaps that was for the best.

By sheer force of will Carrie finally changed her tone. “Yes … Jon?”

“Carrie, I didn’t vote.”

For a moment Carrie looked like her husband had told her Martians had landed. “Y-you didn’t? But you always do … did, I mean but … “ 

“But I didn’t this time. I despise the Clintons, no need to pack it in. And—” he held up a hand “—let’s not get into that now.”

“But you always vote … ”

“—I didn’t vote this time because of that damn tape.” Jon shook his head. 

He still had his arms crossed. God, it was getting late. 

The Chief would have his head on a platter. Or Jefferson who would have to cover for him. Or both … 

But this was important.

He shrugged, almost resigned. “Look, I am GOP, and always will be. But I can’t vote for a man who I know doesn’t give a shit about women. Not after what you went through with … your ex.” 

Now it was Carrie’s turn to look down. 

Jon for his part gazed at the empty street through the window. Dusty Yuma suburbia standard. Nothing to see but the usual nothing. 

And everyone had gone to work, had gone on with their lives. It was time to get moving for him, too. 

He checked his gun, belt, keys, even though he had already done all of that.

Then he went to the door. “I decided not to vote. This time.”

Carrie leaned heavily against the kitchen counter, as he passed her, still not looking up. “So are you … happy that he won, anyway, or what?”

Jon let his hand rest on the handle. “I don’t think he is very smart, actually. But hopefully we can get in some people in the administration who will do more for business.” He tried a smile. “At least our good friend, señor Rodriguez, is looking forward to that, now that he is no longer in the force. I think he is going live with that radio shop before Christmas.” 

Jon’s voice became a little lighter. “By the way, I met Elena the other day at Daybreakers with a client. She asked if we soon came over again.”

Carrie still looked down, very focused on a broken tile on their kitchen floor. “Did Ernesto vote for him?”

Jon sighed. “They both did. At least that’s what Ernesto told me.”

Carrie chewed her lip. She looked as if she was going to explode again. “Ernesto and Elena know everything that happened with me and Jeremy. I can’t believe  … ”

“But Ernesto also has a business to run,” Jon said. “Everyone has their own mix of motivations and priorities, and sometimes you just have to make a choice between what’s there.”

“Yeah, yeah … why didn’t you tell me earlier you had not voted?“

He grinned. “I would have, but I couldn’t get a word in.”

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84B-08112024

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Photo by Jayson Hinrichsen on Unsplash

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Song: Schiller and Jan Blomquist – “In Between”

Our love is a violent
Constant space in between