In Lofton County in some households, there was a monthly pattern emerging.
Some women were grateful for it, but others resented their monthly cycles being usurped by their significant others.
Mrs. Darlene Frank thought of the matter as more like a fungus of some type, emerging month to month.
Her husband, Major Andrew Frank, had been shattered by his wartime experiences and was not all that interested in seeking help … every month, his behavior due to his self-medicating and his unchecked PTSD spiraled downward almost to the point of Mrs. Frank leaving him.
But, sometime in the second week of the cycle, something would kick to life deep within him, like the unseen parts of a fungus spreading beneath the surface of the ground long before a mushroom appeared.
The drinking would slow down, the abuse would cease, the language would improve, the general appearance and hygiene would stop their slide.
It was like clockwork.
By week 3 in the cycle, improvement could be seen, like the subtle lifting of the ground before a mushroom bursts through – and in week 4, Major Frank almost as he had been in his youth struggled up from the depths of his depression and indolence and resentments and bitterness.
But not for Mrs. Frank.
All that, as it was for many other men, was because they knew Colonel Henry Fitzhugh Lee would lay eyes upon them on Reserve Weekend, and they could not bear the thought of his disappointment.
Many men, in the year since Colonel Lee had gone into the Reserve, had not gone through the cycle 12 times – many had followed the colonel's lead and even more the lead of his cousin, Major Ironwood Hamilton, in getting the help and the support they needed.
But, Major Frank was in the holdout group, a group whose significant others were terrified.
Colonel Lee was retiring at the end of the year.
Those who worshiped him might never rouse themselves again.
Their love for their mates was not enough.
Mrs. Darlene Frank had seen enough, seen enough even before her husband walked down the path in the Friday night, December 20, 2019, and had stood at attention under a streetlight to be seen and greeted by Major Hamilton on the driver's side. But it was Colonel Lee, sitting on the passenger side in all his marble magnificence, for whom all the preening had gone on, all week.
“Fine, Andrew,” Mrs. Frank murmured as she waved and Major Hamilton's truck drove off. “Since you're so in love with Colonel Lee, you go on and live with him.”
She turned around and picked up her phone.
“George – yes, come on and change the locks now.”
Her cousin the locksmith did so as she double-checked her own “bugout bag” of sorts. Once George was done, she paid him, waved him off into the night, and then left her phone in the house. She then took her bag and walked off into the night, locking all doors behind her.
The graphic is by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, created in fractal art program Apophysis 2.09