No Reply - Chisel Repair

"Got it."

After he left, my wife was fairly wringing her hands.

---

There was a confrontation between me, my wife, my mother, Jeff's mother, and Janice. They were taking me to task for Jeff's beating.

"Many years ago, when I was an unthinking young man, you vile bitches, did the devil's work. You led me into recreating your sins. You induced me to cuckold a good man and diminish his marriage. Oh, you want to say it isn't so, but I saw the joy die in his eyes. And I walked in shame since that day, for I know I have done wrong to a good man.

"Why do you think I left for all those years?"

I saw my dad in the back, nodding in agreement.

"Dad, how did it go with you and Mr. Anderson?"

"I could never look him in the eye."

"What did you think of Mrs. Anderson afterward?"

"Decay."

"And Mom?"

"Scum."

"What about your marriage?"

"It's dismal. I'm just waiting for one of us to die."

"And yourself?"

"I'm a miserable sinner."

"So, overall, what do you think of the tradition?"

"It's a curse. I don't know what my forebears did, but it must have been bad."

I continued with, "I've been paid back. My own loving wife, who I trusted most among all people, cuckolded me and diminished my marriage and joy. My own mother, who I also trusted, conspired against me. I would have much preferred to have gotten the same treatment that young Jeff got."

Dad was nodding vigorously now.

"Maybe now you witches will stop this abomination. No good comes from it. The marriages are damaged. The men are damaged. If you conniving women looked up a moment from your schemes, you would see that your marriages are less than they were. Why do you think the men take so damn many fishing trips, Mother? It is because they are happiest when they are away from their wives. Do you women plot to spread the misery, or do you plot to take your minds off your miserable marriages?"

"Now, I am ashamed and humiliated. It used to give me pleasure to look upon my wife; now, it does not. It used to give me pleasure to tell her that I loved her; now, it does not. I get no pleasure at being seen with her. The relationship may survive, but it will never be good. It used to be wonderful. Now it is just another mediocre marriage tainted by infidelity."

My wife spoke up, "Please don't say that. We can get it back. I love you. You love me. That hasn't changed."

"I've changed. I've been hurt, betrayed, and humiliated. I've been disappointed by the most important person in my world. You are so much less to me now. You have fallen far in my esteem. Yes, I love you. But my love is like the mash at the bottom of the still after the alcohol has been boiled off. There is no spirit there.

"Witches, bitches, and sluts, pay attention. I have traced 20 of these incidents. Do you want to know the results? Three divorces. Old man Anderson drank himself to death. Julie Johnson was strangled to death by her husband. He died in jail. Mr. Smith went west to find work and never returned. Emma Austin was beaten to death. They suspected her husband, but he was never charged. Old man Jameson stepped in front of a train. Mr. Green was arrested regularly for wife-beating.

"Two husbands became drunks that could not hold a job. So, out of 20 marriages, only nine sort of survived. Since divorce was rare back then, that's a terrible record."

My mother interjected, "That is just a coincidence!"

I replied, "Perhaps, but it was pretty stupid to ignore.

"Let's look at the young men.

"Out of 20, 10 moved away, 1 died from aids, 2 came out as gay, 2 are junkies, 1 is arrested frequently for wife-beating, and one has been divorced 4 times. Two never married. So, out of 20, only one stayed and had a relatively normal life. How does that stack up for building a closer community?"

I went on, "This wretched institution ends now. Hasn't the original sin been visited on enough generations? Let us save our sons. Witches, you are now on notice. My generation will not put up with it. Men and boys that fuck our women will be punished. I suspect that the severity will increase. There will be no escape from the consequences."

I was right. In the following year, Dad divorced Mom. Two young men were beaten severely. Arlie Fulmer, the man Jason cucked, killed his wife and himself with a shotgun.

Arlie's son came beating on our door a few days later, demanding that Jason answer for his crimes. I called my son and told him to stay away until it was safer. Jason moved to the other side of the county and never came back.

Jeff's folks were an interesting case. His mother had already put out. She had other work done, but Jeff's dad figured it out. He sued for divorce, which she fought. She got court-ordered counseling. Jeff's dad became so enraged during a session that he assaulted her and the marriage counselor. He then high-tailed across the state line. Dad and I helped Jeff reunite with his dad during an extended fishing trip. When Jeff stayed behind with his dad, some people thought that we had murdered Jeff.

That was cleared up when Jeff called his mom, but not everyone heard that, and some notoriety clung to Dad and me.

We didn't mind.

---

Well, what about my marriage? It is like your granddad left you a set of Craftsman wood chisels.

Craftsman hand tools are guaranteed for life. Then you chipped the edge of one chisel and took it in for replacement. The man at the counter says, "sorry, but this is a Sears brand." Doesn't Sears sell Craftsman? Isn't it the same? "No," the man says, "Sears is the good brand. Craftsman is the great brand with the guarantee. Sorry, I can't make it whole for you." Dejectedly, you take your chipped chisel home.

The rest of the set works just like it always did. The whole set really hasn't changed; it's just that its value to you has gone down. You are not as proud of it as you used to be.

That's the way I felt about my marriage.

It's a little bit broke. The value has depreciated, but it is still useful.

So, you take that chisel and apply it to the grinding wheel to put a new rough edge on it. You put a fine edge on it with a sharpening stone and a strap and then toss it back in your toolbox after a light oiling. It's as good as new, even if it's not as good as you thought it was. You might even lend it out.

What is the equivalent fix for a relationship? I had some thoughts about that. I had a plan, but I had not quite decided how to implement it. But, later that night, after the other witches had left, my wife gave me the perfect opening.

She entered the bedroom, looked at me, and said, "So, you kicked Jeff in the balls, and now you're good?"

"Yep."

"What about me? I don't have any balls."

"Nope, but you have an ass."

Let's just say that the strap and the lube were applied effectively to her ass, and I don't mind using it roughly when I feel like it. I won't lend it out, though.

---

There you have it. I thought I had a great marriage, but then it got dinged severely.

I found out that it was only a good marriage with no warranty. It took some work, but we finally put the edge back on it, and now it is as good as it ever was.

But you know, now that I realize that I have a Sears chisel, I don't mind using someone else's chisel when it is available.

---

Notes: The agricultural use of the term "fucking" was something I heard on NPR about 30 years ago. I haven't been able to verify it.

Somewhere in the process of using Grammarly, some extra line breaks appeared. I think that I got them all, but maybe not.