Letter to Belinda (36 page)

That was as far as he got. She growled like a wild animal, . . . an animal cornered and threatened with certain death. She screamed out some unidentifiable profanity, and lunged at him, forcing the knife blade so deep into his chest, that only the handle could be seen.

Her Dad was frozen with shock, that she had actually stabbed him. It was a deadly strike, right through the heart. His clawed hands gripped her shoulders, not in anger, but in death. She felt his fingers trembling as he sank to his knees, his eyes still wide open, in a glassy, unseeing gaze. He was trying to say something, but his mouth would not form the words, as blood filled his left lung.
He
doesn’t
deserve
any
last
words,
she thought, as he gurgled grunted his last seconds of life away. She tried to withdraw the knife, to plunge it into him again, and again, and again,
just
like
he
used
to
repeatedly
plunge
his
awful
member
into
her
body,
again,
and
again,
and
again,
but the blade would not come out. She released the knife handle and stepped back, to allow him to sink to his knees, then fall face-down in the floor. Falling on the knife handle only drove the blade deeper, and caused the point to protrude from his back. “Die, you filthy bastard! Die!” He had no choice but to obey her.

He was dead.

Finally, he was dead!

That awful man, whose face was the face on every monster, in every nightmare she had suffered through, for the past 30 years of her life, was finally dead! She felt like she had slain a vicious dragon, a demon possessed dragon that molested and raped little girls, and impregnated them with seeds from the Devil himself! She couldn’t believe that he was really dead. That someone so evil could even
be
killed! Nor could she believe that
she
had killed him! She was horrified, yet elated! And it was so easy! She should have mustered up the courage to do this 30 years ago, and she could have freed herself then, and saved herself from what seemed like an eternity of tortured existence.

This moment was sweet. So sweet, that she just stood there and watched in fascination, as the dark red blood pool widened and spread across the kitchen linoleum. She smiled, and said the words audibly, so that she could savor them with all her senses. “You sorry bastard! You are dead, and I, Penny, your ‘precious little girl’, have killed you! May you burn in Hell forever!” She kicked him in the head, but he didn’t feel it.

Realizing that she was covered with blood, she went to the kitchen sink to wash it off her hands and arms. As she washed, she turned and gazed at the body of her father, just to be sure he didn’t rise up and come after her, the way monsters in the movies did. But Bob Deason was not getting up. He was as dead as a wedge. Her blouse was also soaked red. That would never do. She knew she had to get out of here, if Janice was still out there waiting for her. She went to her old room and grabbed the first bulky thing she saw in the closet, which was her old brown jacket from her High School days. That would cover her bloody blouse. She grabbed her family Bible to leave, but she had one more thought, to destroy the evidence that she had been here.

She put a skillet on the stove, and turned the eye on ‘high’. As it heated, she filled the skillet with vegetable oil, then rolled off a whole roll of paper towels on top the stove. She sloshed oil on them as well, just for good measure. She turned to go, and didn’t look back.

“I found my Bible,” she said to Janice, as she climbed into her Blazer. “Let’s get out of here before my Dad returns from town!”

“Is that blood on your pants?” Janice asked.

Startled by the question, she instantly replied, “Yes, I cut my finger while I was looking in the kitchen, but it’s okay. Let’s get out of here!”

She hated that Janice had seen that blood, but it was okay. She had the feeling that everything was going to be okay after this.

She had been home all afternoon, and had her boyfriend’s house all to herself. Her boyfriend was presently in jail for drug possession, and trafficking, and would probably not be out for awhile, so she had time to think, and seriously contemplate what had happened.

The fact was, she had just murdered her father, and burned his house down, with him in it. She should have felt bad, but she didn’t. For the first time in her life, she felt truly free. There was no need for the booze or the drugs anymore. They were just the band-aids that had covered the open wounds from her tortured childhood. What she had just done, was the
cure
for all the things that had been wrong with her. Now she felt that she could heal and be a normal person, a normal wife, a normal mother and grandmother, because the cancer, which had eaten away at her soul all these years had been eradicated.

So what now? Well, nothing, if the murder couldn’t be linked to her. She would say ‘take a hike’ to her sleazy boyfriend. She would get a job, rent an apartment, and then set about trying to repair her broken life, by showing her loved ones that she was really cured.

Even if the law caught up with her, and she went to prison for what she had done, at least her
soul
would still be free, even if her body was incarcerated. In jail or out, she would be a new person, someone that she actually
liked
for a change.

Having heard the news report, she now looked at herself. She was still wearing the bloody blouse. It was ruined. The blood was dried in, but that was okay. Wal-Mart sold new blouses every day. She went to the bathroom, and disrobed, putting all her bloody clothes in a garbage bag for disposal. She examined herself in the mirror. Hmm, not bad. Her body was still marketable as a sexy lady, as long as she cleaned up her act. She turned on the shower and stepped in, washing off the grime, sweat and blood of her former life, hoping that society would let her have the chance to start anew.

30
 

T
uesday morning broke much too soon for Travis. He lay in bed, afraid to move, for fear that his head was going to explode. Drew and his Mom had already gone down to breakfast, but he would not be eating anything this morning, and probably not all day. Just the thought of eating anything nauseated him. He rolled over on his side to assess the damage, and only succeeded in liberating a long trumpet-like blast from the neither regions, to which he muttered to himself, “The hang-over afflicted Travis-Bird, usually a shy and elusive creature, trumpets the arrival of a new day!” He laughed at this, but immediately wished he hadn’t, because it made his head throb terribly.

Got
to
get
up.
What’s
on
the
agenda
for
today?
Certainly
not
going
to
another
pub!
I
swear,
that
is
my
last
hang-over!
I
will
never
drink
again!

He got up, and went to the bathroom to get a drink of water for his dry cotton-mouth. Brushing his teeth helped. He pissed another long ‘Yellow River’ into the toilet, as he liberated one more long and impressive trumpet-like blast. Apparently Irish ale was notorious for that.
Just
how
many
pints
did
I
drink
last
night?
It was all just a blur. Head still throbbing, he went to the suitcase to get a clean shirt and pants. He emptied out the contents of his old pants on the night stand beside the phone, and saw the hand-written note left by his mother.

“Call Janice when you get in, no matter how late it is. Mom.”

Call Janice? It had better be an emergency.
Let’s
see.
8am
here,
minus
five
hours.
It
is
3am
in
Alabama.
I’m
sure
Janice
didn’t
mean
for
me
to
call
her
at
3
in
the
morning.
I’ll
call
at
noon,
that
will
be
7am
at
home.

He went down to breakfast, and prepared himself a cup of iced coffee, in spite of how good everything looked. His Mom and Mrs. Parker were sitting together, and Drew and Audrey were sitting together at a separate table.

“Morning kids.” he said as he passed Drew.

“Still alive, Dad?”

“Barely.” He stopped in his tracks. “What time did you get in last night?”

“Before you did!”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Good job.” He hobbled on to the table with his Mom. “Is this seat taken, Ladies?”

“No, have a seat,” Mrs. Parker said.

“Did you see the note from Janice?”

“Yep!”

“Did you call her?”

“Nope! I didn’t want to wake her at 3am.”

“You were supposed to call her last night.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“How late did you stay at that bar?”

“No comment.”

“Are you going with us today?”

“Where?”

“The bus leaves in 30 minutes, going to Stonehenge, then on to Salisbury Cathedral, and then Manchester Cathedral.”

“I can’t miss Stonehenge, that’s a highlight for me in England. But after that, I have my second book signing at noon in Manchester. I’ll have to go on ahead of the group after leaving Stonehenge to make it in time. I may have to miss the cathedrals, and get back to London on my own a little later. I’ll try to call Janice when I get to Manchester, before the book signing.”

“She specifically told me to have you call her last night.”

“But it wasn’t an emergency?”

“She didn’t say, but she was upset with me, letting you go to a bar, and letting Drew go out with the girls.”

“Then that’s why she wanted me to call, so she could bawl me out. No, I’ll call her this afternoon, after she has time to cool off.”

*     *     *

Tuesday morning Miranda got up and reviewed what she had to do over a cup of coffee. It seemed simple, so she got busy. She got out a garbage bag and went to the freezer. She un-piled bags of vegetables until she found the head and picked it up by its gray hair, and dropped it into the bag. It took some hunting, because it was so small, but she finally found the frozen little prick and looked at it scornfully. “This is all your fault!” she said, as she threw it into the bag. She added a few bags of veggies, then rolled it up and took it to her trunk. Then she went into the house to call Lennie.

“Hey, Lennie!”

“Miranda? I’m surprised that you’re calling me!”

“I just called to make sure you took the medicine like you were supposed to.”

“Not yet, but I will.”

“Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

“Naw, I usually don’t eat breakfast.”

“Well, some of the medicine you are supposed to take, is supposed to be taken with food, or else you will get sick.”

“Sick? I didn’t know that.”

“Tell you what, why don’t you get up and get dressed, and I’ll take you to the Huddle House for breakfast.”

“Really? You would do that for me?”

“Sure. What are friends for? Get dressed and bring your medicine with you, and I will pick you up in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay! I will!”

She brushed her hair, and checked herself in the mirror, then grabbed her purse on the way to the door. In ten minutes, she pulled up in Lennie’s driveway, and she pulled in at such an angle that she would have to back up toward the old well. She waited there until Lennie came out the carport door, and rushed to her car.

“Okay, I’m ready to go!”

“Wait! You’re not wearing
that
shirt, are you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“No, no, no! It is dirty, and has a hole in the shoulder! Go back and put on something a little nicer.”

“But this is the best I got.”

“Well, at least go put on some deodorant, so you won’t smell so bad.”

“I don’t got no deodorant.”

“Nothing? No after-shave lotion or anything?”

“Yeah, I got a bottle of that. It’s been on the top shelf since my Dad died.”

“Well, go splash a little of that on your face and underarms, so you will smell a little better.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

“No hurry.”

As soon as he disappeared in the carport door, she popped the trunk, got out and grabbed the garbage bag, and flung it into the well. She closed the trunk, and got back into the car. It took less than ten seconds. She had time to spare, waiting on Lennie to return. When he got halfway to the car, she could smell the overpowering scent of the after-shave lotion.

“Okay, now I’m ready!”

“How much after-shave did you put on?”

“You said splash it on, so I did.”

“I didn’t mean to
bathe
in it! Good Lord! I can barely breath!”

“I’m sorry, Miranda! I can’t do nothin’ right! Want me to go wash it off?”

“No, you’re fine. We’ll just drive to town with the convertible top down, and maybe the smell will dissipate as we go.”

“Okay!” He got in and smiled at her. “I
do
smell better though, don’t I?”

“Oh yeah! You smell like a man, Lennie!”

Lennie beamed with delight as they pulled out of the driveway. They let the wind blow through their hair as they drove to town. Lennie was talking all the way, but Miranda couldn’t make out half of what he was saying, because of the wind. She just smiled and nodded.