Fire in the Sky

May Duval

Description

Marcy Bertoli, teacher, has abusive husband whom she eventually divorces, he attacks her, and is sentenced to jail time, she skis and gets lost, is found by kind man she falls in love with, she has two grown children who are featured in her story, and help her.

Informations

• Publié par: Inspiring Voices
• Date de parution: 01 février 2012
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781462400577
• Langue: English

Extrait

Fire in the Sky
 
 
May Duval
 
 


 
Copyright © 2012 May Duval.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
ISBN: 978-1-4624-0058-4 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4624-0057-7 (e)
 
Inspiring Voices books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:
 
Inspiring Voices
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.inspiringvoices.com
1-[phone]
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
 
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
 
Printed in the United States of America
 
Inspiring Voices rev. date: 1/28/2012.
Contents
Chapter 1  
Chapter 2  
Chapter 3  
Chapter 4  
Chapter 5  
Chapter 6  
Chapter 7  
Chapter 8  
Chapter 9  
Chapter 10  
Chapter 1  
T he Colorado Rockies loomed high in their snow crowned glory, denying the approach of spring. March was almost as cold as January in this small town of Leadville, just a few miles south of Colorado Springs. The sun was sinking in the west - it’s warmth slowly turning to cold. Marcy Bertoli was heading home after a tiring, though satisfying, day of teaching 4 th graders.
Marcy, an attractive woman of 43, brown hair, lovely blue eyes, and trim figure, was usually smiling, but could look stern if need be. She was well liked by her students, and fellow teachers as well, at the West Park elementary school in the outskirts of town. Due to budget cuts, she had a larger class this year, plus no teacher’s aide to help with grading papers, or helping slow readers. So though the school closed at 4:00, she often stayed till 5:30 preparing tomorrow’s schedule. She loved the 9 and 10 year olds - old enough to care for themselves, but young enough to respect their teacher.
She eased her aging Honda out of the parking lot, and headed for the highway that led home 6 miles away.She sighed with weariness, and also with dread. Home was no longer the safe haven it once was. As she drove slowly home, she felt heaviness in her heart. Her two children Tom, 20, and Heather, 18, were both attending a Denver college. She missed them so much. But the heartache was because of her husband, Clyde. Once the love of her life, he had lately become critical and controlling. She was a dedicated Christian, and prayed for him, but he made fun of her faith. She tried desperately to please him, but nothing she did was ever enough.
Clyde Bertoli worked as a mechanic at the Carbondale Car Repair, the main garage in town. He was a dependable employee, always showing up for work. This day had been wearying like most days were. His boss expected him to work past closing time to repair his niece’s car. He worked till 6:00, and was finally able to leave. He hardly had time to keep his own truck working. It whined and sputtered, but he finally got it going. He drove out of town, and headed home. He was tired, and tired of his job. He was irritated when he got home, and found Marcy was not home yet.
When she did come, he had no welcome for her - only his usual complaint: “What took you so long?” She told him she had papers to grade, and the next day’s lessons to plan. She hurried to fix spagetti and meatballs, warm a loaf of garlic bread, and make a salad.
The next day was worse at the garage. Clyde’s boss upbraided him for careless work. A customer had come in complaining his car still knocked and was hard to start. The day dragged on. Clyde looked older than his 47 years. His hair was graying, he was overweight, his posture sagging.
Marcy had a trying day too. Some student deliberately set off a false fire alarm. All the classes filed outside - most were delighted with the excitement. But it set back her schedule. She tried to catch up by shortening some subjects, but it was nearing 6:00 when she finally made her way to her car. She drove as quickly as she dared, knowing Clyde would be angry. She thought to herself ‘What can I say to satisfy him?’ She approached the driveway, hoping he would not be home yet, but he was.
As she walked to the kitchen door, he loudly greeted her: “Where have you been? I’ve been working all day, and I’m tired and hungry.”
She sighed deeply. “Clyde, I’ve been working all day too, and I’m tired also. You know I’d like to get home earlier, but I just can’t. I had a busy day - extra duties came up, and you know I often have to work late.”
“Well, don’t make a habit of it.”
She replied “I’ll do whatever my job requires, you’ll have to accept that.”
He came toward her his fist raised.
She warned him “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
He shouted “I’ll do as I please, so shape up, woman.” She turned away, not showing the fear she felt. She took off her coat, hat, and gloves and hung them in the hall closet. She thought to herself “Someday this has to change.’ She began preparing their evening meal. His fury barely contained, he stomped into the family room, and turned on the TV.
“Lord” she prayed silently, “ please give me strength and patience, and show me what I should do.” She reheated the spagetti left over from the day before, poured a bagged salad into a bowl, and warmed rolls in the oven; coffee for him, tea for her. After setting the table, she called “dinner’s ready.”
He ambled out, took a look, and said “Oh, no - not that garbage again.” But he sat down, and while Marcy gave thanks, he began to eat, wolfing it down. “Tomorrow I want a good steak dinner” he ordered.
“Clyde, you know we can’t afford steak.”
He kicked her chair as he went by, and growled “Take it out of that Christmas fund you’re always sneaking money into.” She didn’t answer. She had no intention of dipping into the small savings she had scrounged for Christmas, or for an emergency.
The evening went by, and she dreaded going to bed. She finally turned toward the stairs, and casually said “I think I’ll sleep in the other bedroom tonight, so I won’t disturb you when I get up early.”
“What? No such thing - you sleep with me where a wife belongs.”
“Clyde, please leave me alone. I’m so tired tonight.” She went up to the bathroom. Took a shower, brushed her teeth, and prepared for bed. After reading her Bible, she turned out the light, and prayed fervently for peace, and settled into the guest room. Just as she was nodding off, he stomped up the stairs, opened the door, undressed, and got into bed with her, saying “I’m sorry I was so crabby tonight - come over and love me.” She permitted his lovemaking, thinking ‘This is so totally one-sided. I can’t live the rest of my life this way.’ She had tried to get him to see a counselor with her, but he would have no part of it.
She rose early, dressed hurriedly, and fixed a light breakfast for both of them. It was a relief to leave the house, and she looked forward to this day, but wished it was a Monday.
She unlocked her classroom, and felt a glow of satisfaction as she looked around at the displays of the children‘s artwork posted on the walls. A review of her schedule reminded her she had asked the kids to bring a ‘show and tell‘ object today. That was always a heartwarming, sometimes heartrending, time. Some of them were from poor families. Some broken homes, and had little to bring. But they enjoyed it, and she did too.
One by one they ventured in. She said “Good morning” to each one of them, and they said “Good Morning, Mrs. Bertoli”. some still stumbling over her name. Most had their treasures in a sack, which they stowed away in their desks. But one, Bobby Driskell, took a long time hanging his coat and cap in the cloakroom. As the school buzzer rang, they hurried to their seats, and Marcy called the roll: “Mary”, “Here” - “Cody” “Here” . Bobby raised his hand ,“Mrs. Bertoli, can I show first?” She said “May I?” He repeated “May I?” “OK.” He went to the cloakroom and returned, leading a big, black furry dog. “Bobby! You remember I said no animals last fall when we started this.”
“Yeah, I know, but he’s real gentle, and he won’t bark or bite.”
“Well, make it quick then, honey.”
He led the huge dog to the front of the class, and said “His name is Roscoe, and he can do tricks. Roscoe, sit.” Roscoe obediently sat. “Roscoe, roll over.” The big dog made a show of lying down, and rolled over. “Good boy, now play dead.” Roscoe obligingly flattened out, but could not stop wagging his tail. “Roscoe, up. Wave goodbye.” Roscoe sat up, and raised one paw. Bobby gave him a pat, and a treat, while the class cheered wildly. Bobby led the dog out, saying my “My Mom is in the hall and will take him home.”
Marcy was impressed, and praised him for his fine performance, but said “Now remember, no more animals.” They all agreed, and the ‘show and tell ‘ went on. One was a picture of a baby brother; one a new doll. One was a letter read by Chloe from her Daddy in the Army overseas: how he loved her and missed her, and hoped to come home soon. Again, Marcy was touched.
The rest of the day was taken up with lessons in spelling, math, lunch time, then geography and lastly story tim