Teresa was told often by her husband, “you’re crazy. Now, she felt something was really going on. Teresa was afraid to voice her fears. They sounded crazy to her. What would they sound like to a preacher, a friend or relative? She decided to take a chance. Too many people seemed to have given hint after hint. Earlier in her life she could catch hints. Now she couldn’t catch a hint or remember the hint. Each night she tried to look closely at her husband’s face. He kept standing in the shade of the lamp. He’d rub his face with his hands as if to clear some awful image. At times, he acted identical to their oldest son. It was a spooky likeness. Because that might mean her husband had become mentally ill too. Teresa stopped trying to look closely at him. She was afraid. Afraid if she acted differently he might hurt her. He’d never hurt her, but was he different now? Was he not the person she had always thought? Could she possibly have been fooled and was sleeping with a stranger? Who could she ask? Where could she turn? Late in the mid hours of the morning she spooked easily. He was watching her. She was watching him. What was going on? Was anything going? Was her worse nightmare one she had never dreamed?
Pieces of conversation came back to her from the mouths of friends, acquaintances and even the t.v. seemed to speak to her. She felt surely no one would take her side. They would say she was exaggerating. Weren’t mothers always wrong, at fault? There was so much to tell. Teresa had to wait for the right moment, the right technology. The moment wasn’t now. Oddly, she loved him. He never held her. She would reach over at night and put her arms around him. He always said, “I’ll keep you safe. Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.” He didn’t say it as often. She didn’t feel as safe. It were as if ten strangers were living in her house in the body of one man.