I walk into the pub and there she is, in the far corner, sitting at a table with her friends.
She sees me, smiles, and gives me that look. I know exactly what’s going to happen. She stands
up, moving through the crowd. She approaches. Before I say anything, I think of my cousin, his
insults, questioning my loyalty and attacking my reputation. I know exactly what to do—by the
end of the night, I will sleep with Angela, my cousin’s wife.
“James, what are you doing here so late?” she asks, taking a drink from her wine glass.
“Hey Angela. I got away and decided to come out.” I look around the pub. “Where’s
Brian? I don’t see him.”
“Don’t be silly. You know he works graveyard at the hospital.” She gently rubs her hand
down my arm.
“So that’s how it is? When he’s working, you come out and play.” She doesn’t respond as
she gently bites her lower lip. I smile, shaking my head as though I’m disappointed. “I know
exactly what you’re doing,” I say.
“What am I doing, James?”
“You’re always messing with me when no one is looking.”
She reaches forward, grabs my belt and pulls me towards her. I try to move back, while
she laughs.
“So are we going to do this?” I ask.
“Do what?”
“You know. Remember… at the Christmas party? You always flirt with me.”
“Poor baby. What? You can’t take it?”
“No, it’s just frustrating.” We stare at each other for a moment. “So let me tell you what
I’m going to do.” I point to the bar. “I’m going to have a beer and when I finish, you’re leaving
with me.”
She lets go of my belt. “Wow James, you don’t mess around.”
I just look at her.
She places her wine glass on a table and reaches for me, rubbing her finger across my
lips. “Leaving with you sounds very exciting.” She then walks away, disappearing into the
crowd. I smile, thinking how lucky I am.
I make my way to the bar and order a cold beer, laughing with the guys as they poke fun
at the bartender. I chug my beer and glance at the table where she was sitting. I don’t see her. I
stand up, scanning the room. I drop a few dollars on the bar and walk around the pub but again,
no Angela. I tap my fist against the wall, annoyed, knowing I lost my opportunity.
I walk out the back door as the cold breeze hits my face. I rush to my truck and start it.
As I sit, thinking maybe I should go back inside to look for her, there is a knock on my passenger
side door. I unlock it, and Angela jumps in.
“I saw you walk out,” she says.
“Where were you?”
“I was in the restroom. I yelled your name, but you didn’t hear me.” She zips up her
jacket and sits a little closer to me. “So, where are we going?”
“Uh... I don’t know.”
“Oh, poor James, he has nowhere to go. I know you live with your sister.” She reaches
forward, cleaning a portion of the window with her hand. “Wouldn’t that be awkward if you took
me to her house?”
“Yeah, that would be, and she’s probably still awake.” I look out my side window. “We
can go to the park?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to that dirty park. Come on, I know where to go.”
“Where to?”
“Next to Ludi’s grocery store.”
“Okay.”
We drive off towards the west side of town.
“Keep going,” she says. “It’s down this street to your left.”
I keep driving.
“Turn in here.”
I turn, driving up a curved road.
“Right there,” she says.
I park next to a beat-up mobile home. It’s a single-wide, faded blue color with Christmas
lights hanging from the roof, and a large deck falling apart at the front entrance.
“Who lives here?” I ask.
“An old man.”
I look at her confused.
She laughs. “Don’t you remember? I take care of old people. Come on, don’t worry. He’s
in bed, asleep.”
I turn off the truck, and we get out. She stands right next to me. She places her arms
around my neck. I grab her hips, holding her body tightly against mine. I rub against her.
“James,” she whispers in my ear. “I’ve always wanted you.” She backs off, grabs my
hand and pulls me towards the porch. “But be quiet.”
We step onto the porch. She takes a key from under the doormat, gently unlocking the
door. We quietly enter a dark house. I almost stumble as my eyes slowly adjust to the moonlight
shining through a window.
“Sit over there,” she whispers. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to check on him.”
“Okay.” I unbutton my jacket and take it off, draping it over the couch.
She walks down the hall as I sit on the couch next to the window. I gently pull up the
blinds, looking outside. I see the moon, a streetlight, the snow on the ground still unthawed from
the other day. I turn around and there she is. She plops right next to me.
“Is everything all right?” I whisper.
She nods yes as she reaches for me, rubbing her fingers through my hair. She then backs
off, removes her jacket and sits on me. She starts to kiss me but then there is a ruckus.
“What’s that noise?” I ask.
“I didn’t hear anything.”
I hear it again. “Please, stop.”
We stay still.
“He’s trying to get out of bed,” she whispers.
Angela gets off me and runs down the hall. A door opens. I lean forward on the couch,
trying to listen. I hear a whisper. She is talking to the old man as I hear what sounds like a metal
chair being dragged across the floor. She whispers again and then there is complete silence. I
lean back on the couch, looking through the blinds. A door swings open and then slams shut.
Angela appears from down the hall and sits next to me.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, he’s fine.”
“What was that noise?”
“It was his wheelchair.”
“Wheelchair? I didn’t know he was in a wheelchair.”
She gets close to me. “Don’t worry,” she says, gently biting my lip.
We kiss, and I pull her towards me, placing my hands underneath her shirt. I’m about to
make my next move when I am distracted by the same sound. I stop kissing her. “Angela,” I
whisper. “Did you hear that? It’s the wheelchair. I hope he’s not trying to get out of the room.”
“It’s fine.” She kisses me on my neck. “I locked the bedroom door.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want him to come in here.”
“He won’t. He doesn’t know you’re here.” She gets off the couch and sits on top of me.
We start kissing again. I grab the back of her hair when I hear the distinct sound of the
wheelchair. I stop, quickly pushing her off me.
“What’s wrong?” she whispers.
“I can’t do this with that old man down the hall. I hear him in that damn wheelchair. I
know he’s awake, listening to us.”
“Don’t worry. He won’t come in here.”
Angela is about to take off her shoes when the door unlocks. I stand up, my eyes wide
open, staring at the hallway. “Did you hear that?” I ask.
“You’re hearing things. Now get back over here.”
I move away from the couch. A door creaks open.
“Wait here,” I mumble, nervously.
I move around the end table. I walk out of the living room and into the kitchen, carefully
peeking down the hallway. It is dark with a dim light shining through a doorway. There he is,
sitting still in his wheelchair, glaring right at me with his beady eyes. I can’t make out his face,
but he is bald with pointy ears. It seems like he has something in his hand. I don’t move as he
starts to roll himself down the hall. I glance back at Angela.
“Is everything okay?” she whispers.
I don’t respond as I look back down the hallway. Then it dawns on me. I think the old
man has nothing to lose. Here I am, in his home about to have sex with probably the only person
who cares about him, and I don’t think he likes it. The old man grips whatever is in his hand,
probably a gun, so I run for the front door, pulling and twisting the doorknob, trying to open it,
anxious to get out of the trailer.
I hear the wheelchair and the voice of Angela, but again, I don’t
respond. My breath is quick. I kick the door, finally unlocking it and turning the knob. I slam the
door open and run outside. I pull my keys out of my front pocket, open my truck and jump in. I
start it, leaning back on my seat, trying to catch my breath. What am I doing? It’s just a harmless
old man in a wheelchair.
He didn’t have a gun. I laugh knowing how ridiculous I am behaving. I
look out the window and there is Angela. She opens the door and gets in.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asks, throwing my jacket at me.
“He was in the hallway. In his wheelchair rolling towards me. Didn’t you see him?”
“Yeah, but everything’s fine. I rolled him back to his bedroom.”
“Did he say anything?”
“He doesn’t talk. He’s just old and fragile, can’t harm a soul.”
“Yeah, but he scared the shit out of me, and he had something in his hand.”
Angela looks at me, obviously confused. “I didn’t see anything in his hand… stop being
so dramatic.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. I should just get out of here.”
She moves close to me. “Don’t leave,” she whispers. “My car is parked here.” She
reaches over and gently bites my ear. “You can’t go until we finish.” She moves back, pulling off
her shoes. I quickly forget about the old man as I reach over to turn off the truck. In a matter of
minutes, the windows fog up.
--------------------
Later on, Angela reaches over and kisses me on the cheek. “Remember, we can’t tell
anyone about this, especially family,” she says.
“Of course not. That would be bad.”
She gets out of the truck. “Goodbye, James.”
“Bye, Angela.”
As she shuts the door and runs back into the house, I start my truck and slowly back out.
I’m about to clear the driveway when for some strange reason I glance back at the trailer and
notice something. I step on the brake and quickly wipe the driver’s window. It’s the old man in
his wheelchair, staring right at me from a bedroom window. For a moment, we look at each
other, and then he spits on the window and closes the curtains. I wait for a few seconds to see if
he would reappear but no such luck. I laugh, believing what Angela said—he is just old and
fragile, can’t harm a soul.
I drive away, passing Ludi’s grocery store. I think about Brian and how much I hate him.
Revenge is so sweet.
--------------------
The following night, I wake up to a knock on my bedroom door.
“James, are you awake?” my sister asks.
“Now I am. I hope you have a good reason for waking me.”
She walks in, sobbing. “Angela, Brian’s wife.”
I look up at her.
“They found her dead,” she says. “Angela was taking care of an old man in a wheelchair.
He shot her in the head, killed her.”
I sit up on my bed.
“He shot himself too. Brian found them,” she says. “Isn’t that awful?”
I don’t say anything. I just sit there, staring into space.
“James, are you okay?”
I look up at her. “It was a gun in his hand,” I mumble.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I respond, lying back on my bed, covering myself with my blanket. “That is
so sad.” I roll over. “Goodnight sister. I have to get some sleep for work tomorrow.”
“Well, sorry to wake you.” She sobs.
“That’s fine.” I cover my face with the blanket. She walks out of my bedroom, closing
the door behind her.
-The End-