It's No Picnic (9 page)

Read It's No Picnic Online

Authors: Kenneth E. Myers

Tags: #young adult, mystery, detective, satire, Kafkaesque, metafiction

BOOK: It's No Picnic
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Cap was holding up the dentures with index and middle fingers letting the entire thing rest on the thumb, all the while watching as Alex looked on.

“Yes,” Cap said, “whacked you right over the head with them.”

“So, I was right. It was you who killed Nadie K.?”

“What do you mean—right?”

“Well, this is how it went. First, I figure you killed Nadie K. with the dentures by striking her repeatedly on the head. That much seemed apparent from the physical evidence. Then you dragged the body into the old church and over a nail in the floor, hanging the dress and leaving a piece of it behind. It seemed the body just disappeared into thin air after that. Where did he stash the body I thought? Then it occurred to me. The hollowness of the floorboards. Of course, a
basement
. He hid it in the old church basement. But still I sensed nothing foul about the place, so I dismissed it shortly after meeting with Eli. And then there’s Eli who, stealing the dress and discovering it bloody, felt compelled by guilt to tell somebody. So, he brought it to me—
the mystery writer
. And with that and a bloody shirt, I confronted Don, believing he must be the murderer. Eventually I turned him over to the police, watching him die in a jail cell as he continued professing innocence. And that’s the kicker. You see, both you and Don were having an affair with Nadie K. So, you said why not implicate Don in the murder and save Cap from the rap. So, you planted the dress and bloody shirt knowing the wife—as Don never changed clothes or did laundry—would find them in the bedroom closet, confront Don, and call the police. It never occurred to you that Eli had
tendencies
as he put it. But no never mind. It still worked out. He gave it to me, the
mystery writer
that immediately deduced, falsely of course, that Don was the murderer.
Perfect
, Don worried dead and Eli driven mad. No real witnesses. Or so you thought. Until Miss K. discovered the dentures. Then you panicked and kidnapped her. I’m guessing she’s here, right?”

“Yes, she’s here Alex.” Cap said, “But you’re missing one thing, motive. You naively think it jealousy I imagine. Oh, no—friend, not jealously.
F
ALSE
T
EETH
. Clattering, chattering, and rattling false teeth. She could never keep them in. Why not use super glue for God’s sake. Enough to drive somebody insane I tell you. Then, one night, I went mad, and picking them up from the table, struck her over the head, beating,

 


b
e
a
t
i
n
g

 

until falling to the floor with exhaustion. And in a panic, I took the body as you said…But why am I telling you this?”

“Regret, remorse, repentance? Who knows?”

“No. Why am I telling
you
this?!”

“I don’t know. Why?” Alex said.

A brief pause…time enough for the room to breathe and regain a fresh sense. Then—Alex said, “So, where did you hide the body?”

“Here,” Cap said, “in the freezer.”

Cap opened the freezer where the remains of one Nadie K. now chilled. The body was in pieces, perfectly formed and molded to suit the best; quartered and cut into flanks, sirloins, tenderloins; a veritable feast.

“You see, I used to be a butcher,” Cap said, “But why am I telling you this?!?!”

“Grief, guilt?”

“No. Why am
I
telling
you
?!?!?!”

“Well, maybe some fiend or lord is influencing you?”

“Lord.” Cap said with a bemused and muddled tone.

“Residents were talking of nothing but the lord. Eli with the lord and madman. The attendant, the twins…Everybody talking nonstop,
lord, lord, lord
.”

Then—out of the dismal darkness appeared Miss K., perfectly fine, not a scratch, not even a slight or light blemish. Alex became numb in her presence. Perhaps as a result of blows to the head. Maybe from the shock of finding alive and in perfect condition somebody he thought long since dead. But still, the question begged.

Why was she in such flawless shape and why was Cap now seemingly filled with awe and fear, trembling violently from head to toe?

Anyway, she walked into the now expansive open space of the basement, into the white light, looking at Cap and eying Alex, saying to Alex,

I can rub him out if you like.

 

 

 

I
T
W
AS
T
HEN
M
ISS
K. O
PENED
A L
APTOP
.

Now at the ready, she sat down at a desk appearing only moments ago in the center of the room, and with the mouse clicked an icon labeled INP; so opening the document. Alex watched as she began to bang out key strokes, insert, copy, delete—repeatedly—and with that, he saw the fine character that was Cap become nothing but a broad sketch of lines and edges.

“See,” Miss K. said with glee, “Finished!”

“So, do you know who this lord is everybody’s talking about?” Alex asked without faith or conviction.

“Is that what the residents of Longport call me these days? I mean, all I am is a simple author; some might even say charlatan or swindler, who scribbles thoughts down on paper. The residents read it as real, silly as that may be. Although, I do like the title of lord. Lord……lord. A nice sounding appellative. But I guess I would need to change some things. Maybe this?”

Alex watched on, confounded, speechless, as Miss K. struck the keys with fury, cranking out as it were a completely new Miss K. albeit greatly aged and with a gray beard extending from chin to midsection. Stranger still was the choice of eyes. Light points occupying dark centers.

Then—in a low grumble, Miss K. said, “How’s this?”

“I don’t like it. Déjà vu, I suppose.” Alex said in a disappointed tone.

Once again, Miss K. banged and clanged at the keys seemingly returning to a once normal self.

“Is this better?” she said.

“You forgot something.” Alex said awkwardly.

“Oh, yes. Mustn’t forget that.”

A few more strokes of the keys and voilà, Miss K.

“How stupid of me,” Alex said, “Of course,
Miss K.
, you’re the author of
INP
.”

“So you read
INP
? But I know that, don’t I?” Miss K. said.

“Parts. Well, honestly, I just skimmed the majority. Finding most of it banal, bathetic, and bland.”

“I tried to get you to carefully and thoroughly read the whole thing. Anyway, you know what happens, right?”

“Yes, way ahead of you. But tell me, why Longport, horseshoes, and strange tall people?”

“It’s all Greek to me; odysseys and all. I just write and the words come out.”

“And me. Why was I sentenced to death of all people?” Alex said a bit annoyed.

“Please Alex, you disappoint me. Eli, half—baked loony now residing at Sunnier Pastures. He thought you were trying to kill him for God’s sake. Need I say more?”

“And the attendant and twins?”

“The attendant, well, that goes without saying. The twins, they’re a device I like to give the rather long—winded name of thoughtful women in
nice
situations. A fancy way to throw you off, wouldn’t you say?”

“Wow, it just occurred to me. Nadie, food for…?” Alex said, excited by the revelation.

“Precisely nit wit. And besides, if you read this far why are you asking?”

Alex, now trying to excuse himself said, “I guess you’ve changed it around on me a bit.”

“Look, I’m not giving the entire thing away!” Miss K. said madly.


Okay
, I get it. One more question though. The ending?”

“You mean that sappy ending where you and I fall in love, but because it turns out I’m the killer, can never be?”

“Yeah, that ending. Of course, only if you completely rewrite the final scene where I discover you’re the killer and take you in to face justice.”

“I suppose I could make that hack Cap pay for the sin of a murder he
obviously
committed.”

Once again, Miss K. assailed, assaulted, and attacked the keys, from the looks of it trying to create an ending that was firm, fit, and flat; devoid of all things fantastic and unreal

 


f
G
o
N
l
I
d
D
i
L
n
O
g
F—

 

as it were, the entire scene into a single pointed whole.

 

 

 

H
ENRY
K
AY
W
OKE
with brilliant sunshine in his face, so much so, it brought tears to his eyes. Looking away, he noticed a small envelope on the floor of his cell. He picked it up, opening it, the contents falling to the floor. He did not think, rather just bending down and picking up the contents as if meant to be.

The complicated folds on the letter made the task of unfolding confused, each fold seemingly taking an endless amount of time to unfurl, until finally, the letter stood before him, ready to read.

 

CAP

 

Sorry Henry. But it’s your time, not mine.

 

Yours Truly and Forever

 

Miss T. K.

 

P.S. Don’t slip off that stool.

 

“Aren’t you awake yet Henry Kay?” Detective Smith said.

“Henry Kay? My name is Cap.”

Smith rolled in the floor laughing, saying, “Cap. Who’s this Cap guy? A figment of your imagination I suppose. Yet another ploy to weasel out of a murder charge. You’re Henry, Henry Kay, husband of Nadie Kay, and that’s, that. Don’t you remember anything?”

Henry looked down at the cell floor for a moment; then looking at Smith, exclaimed, “No, I don’t. Enlighten me.”

“Uhhh…You murdered your wife, Nadie Kay. You beat her to death with a baseball bat claiming she’d been sleeping with your best friend Alex. Need I say more?”

“In Longport?”

“Longport?” Smith said puzzled.

“Longport. You know, ten miles outside Franktown.”

“There’s no Longport around here Henry. You really should lay off whatever it is you’re dipping into. It’ll be the death of you. Anyway, I’ve talked to the judge and it looks like your arraignment will be next week. I wouldn’t go to the judge with these fishy tales or he’s liable to throw the book at you.”

Then—Smith left,
laughing
…; making tall gestures of plea as if a man so condemned.

Later that night as the guard was making his rounds, a crashing sound came from Henry’s cell. Quickly, the guard pointed his flashlight at the cell, seeing at once the body of a man hanging from a cord with a message etched into and across his chest:

 

A M
ADWOMAN
M
ADE
M
E
D
O
I
T

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