Five Keys

The duck family marched across the clearing and wobbled into the overgrowth near the lake. The approaching bikers intended no harm, but the birds had no way of perceiving that fact anymore than humans have the ability to see their future. Mrs. Duck nudged her ducklings faster, repressing her instinct to fly, refusing to desert them. Mr. Duck scurried with them to the edge of the grasses; and then, fluttering his wings in a flashy manner, abandoned them to their fate. The scene put Maren in touch with her feelings. She was being left behind with their children, giving up her speech-language pathology career, while her physician husband Paul would soon be flying off to exciting adventures all over the world with Pediatric Possibilities, the international medical mission agency her brother-in-law had helped develop. "Finish throwing your stones, Danl,"Maren called, reaching for Zoe's hand. "We have to go unpack more cartons." The children had already learned the way from the creek behind their property to the village park by the river, through the village to a small spring-fed lake. They had in just one week tramped out a foot path through the woods from the their unkempt backyard to the creek. The siblings were unusually self-sufficient for seven and eight, but that was their limit. An outing to the village or the lake was to be a family event. The children had matured quickly in the small cabin west of Denver, trying to care for their mother when she couldn't care for them. That was already only a distant memory for them, as they pushed their bikes over last fall's soggy, rotting leaves that lay in their new backyard. Maren made a mental note to arrange for landscapers. It was one more item added to her growing list of resettlement projects. By the time Paul arrived, dinner was long past. The children were in bed; and Maren, muscles aching from the physical exertions of the cross-country move, was unpacking books. She stood inside the open French doors just off the entryway, in what had been a formal living room. She and Paul had employed a local carpenter to convert it into a library. They wanted something reminiscent of the one he had built in his Chicago house before they were married. Now, floor to ceiling shelving units and the small, curved walnut desk by the window needed to be stocked. The new couch would arrive tomorrow. Danl and Zoe had helped Maren drag and tote boxes from room to room earlier in the day, after Grandmom and Granddad McCloud had left. They had entertained the children while Maren organized the kitchen. Paul's parents were impressed at how efficient the move had been, even though Maren was overwhelmed. In Colorado she had directed the children to use colorful markers to print room destinations on cartons, expecting the unpacking process would be easier if their belongings were immediately placed in the appropriate room. Unfortunately, the movers had arrived late and had deposited boxes in whatever room was convenient at the moment. Paul had eaten a burger in the car on the drive home. He greeted his tired wife, rolled up or as was his custom rolled his shirt sleeves under, and began energetically slicing strapping tape and unloading boxes. Maren was grateful for the help, but couldn't let go of the disappointment that she hadn't heard from him all day. "I thought you would be home before the children's bedtime. They were watching out the front window for almost an hour before I made them turn in." He began dealing books like cards onto shelves, but offered no excuses. "I know. I hated to miss seeing the little guys." She struggled to find the words to tell him how painful this transition was for her. "I realize that our lives will change drastically, but I didn't imagine this kind of schedule would become the norm before you even start the overseas trips." "The norm? Maren, this is only our first week here, my first week of training." He took a breath and tried to be logical. "We're treading on all new ground here. I don't know why you're so upset. Tonight was unavoidable, or I would have been here." Next he added analytical comments to reiterate their situation. "We talked this all out before we left Colorado. I expect you will have to learn to be more patient and independent than you've been in the past." He meant their past. "Patient. Independent." Her words were reactive. "If you remember, I was a wife, a mother, and a widow before I met you." She gave him the old leather-bound volume on Native American legends to place on his higher shelf in exchange for the collection of C.S. Lewis to be assigned to the lower shelf she was stocking. His mind was filled with excitement at the opportunity which had presented itself to him at a crucial time. Pediatric Possibilities was a non-profit organization conceptualized by several retired physicians and was fast becoming a well-known, international medical mission agency. In actuality it wasn't limited to the pediatric population, so they recruited physicians of various specialties. Calvin Dodd, Maren's brother-in-law had brought the proposal to Paul on numerous occasions, both before and after Paul and Maren were married. Refusing to re-evaluate his decision on the spot, he tried humor. "But life wasn't worth living without me, right?" "How can you say that," was her humorless answer. "I raised two boys, got a graduate degree, had friends" "Whoa, whoa. Lighten up." But it was too late. He had inadvertently pushed the wrong buttons. Why couldn't he remember the lessons his sister Penny had tried to teach him, "Some things a woman has to be told; some things she needs to be shown." He still couldn't seem to get it right.