Chapter 7
I really hate driving long distances and trying to remain in sight of someone else’s car. It distracts me from being able to formulate thoughts in my mind as I drive. Yet at least it was not too hot once we passed Yreka and entered the Mt. Shasta area. I called Nicole and asked her to stop several times to marvel at the scenery, and once to take a short hike – nothing long though since we did have valuables in the cars. We stayed in Medford that evening in a hotel with a pool, hot tub and a large TV in the room. It was quite refreshing to be in a hotel where cockroaches were not a standard feature.
The topic of Daniel never came up once that afternoon or evening. The next morning, at breakfast, Nicole did mention that once all the formalities of an investigation was over she would receive an official death certificate and be able to send it to the insurance company. She said it might take four or five months to get the money though. She also asked if I wanted to come to the funeral. I said I would be there for her. It was odd how I had recently lost my mother, and she had, in a manner of speaking, lost her husband. And while the circumstances were entirely different, we both could support one another in a period of life transition.
We arrived in Portland around dinner and, once we unpacked, Nicole and I enjoyed a wonderful Thai dinner. When we got home I offered Nicole the spare room. It was fun to have her with me – we sat down and watched TV and ate chips together. I asked her if she might like to go camping at the ocean once the funeral was over. She said it would be fantastic. Speaking of the funeral, I warned her that she would have to act the part of the grieving widow so nobody would develop any suspicions about Daniel’s death. She said she was a natural actress.
The day for the funeral finally came. Nicole said she had liked Daniel’s mother very much, as well as the rest of his family, so this might be somewhat difficult for her. I did my best to provide comfort, and reassure her emotionally; and make sure she did not feel any guilt over what we had done. We just had to get through this and then most of the difficult part would be over.
I again put on my black dress; it seemed it was getting a lot use lately. Once Nicole was ready we were off to bid our final farewell to the man who had caused me so much grief in my life. On our way into the church I noticed a couple enter – he was maybe around 40 while she was in her early 20s. They had a little baby in a stroller and for one moment I projected myself into the young mother’s role. At once I felt an intense feeling of betrayal towards Daniel and regretted that he had died in a painless manner – if anything caused me remorse it was that Cindy had died in a state of excruciating fear. I had held her in her vain struggle to live while Daniel watched the whole ordeal, and yet he only had to pass out and drown. I felt a desire to find someone equally as evil as Daniel and take out my rage on them. I had to get a grip on myself though – it was time to act sad for the benefit of Daniel’s family. They had done nothing to hurt me after all.
It was so ironic to attend a funeral I had helped create by killing the deceased. I let Nicole mingle with guests and I talked a little while with his mother. She seemed very understanding even though she was aware of the official report that we had all been out together and he wound up dying. She never indicated any animosity towards Nicole or me. When the ceremony began Nicole got up, cried, and told of her never ending love for Daniel as she looked upon the large portrait displayed in the front of the church with him wearing his official USAF uniform. We then all travelled to the graveside and his body was lowered into the ground. Daniel’s journey through life was now officially over.
When we arrived home Nicole immediately shed the clothes she had been wearing and put on some casual jeans and a t-shirt. She commented, “I never want to go to another funeral again!” I said I agreed as I too changed into something more comfortable. Nicole then said something that immediately grabbed my attention, “You know…when you eat something that isn’t so good you know how you want something that’s better so you have a pleasant experience in your memory?” I nodded. She continued, “Daniel was mean, he was a jerk, and of course he had done some awful things to both of us in his life, but I still had quite a few good times with him – of course all were before we were married.” I sat down and replied, “Okay, continue” and she gave me her impish, evil smile and said, “Melanie, can we give it some thought to maybe create a pleasant memory for a last kill?”
I was surprised at her suggestion, or was I really? I wondered who she might have in mind. The odd thing I remembered was not her suggesting a kill, but how I felt about it that moment – I actually liked the idea! I had a flashback to my thoughts just before the funeral. I also had to admit that every time I had heard a story on the news of some awful person hurting someone innocent I had thought about what we had done in the past. Nicole’s suggestion sparked a sense of empowerment – I wanted to look into this more with her! Maybe the feelings I had deserved an outlet, so I would require very little persuasion. However, I told her we could think about it only if we could go down to Newport and go camping first – just for a few days. She asked when and I suggested we prepare and leave in two days – we could wait in case someone in Daniel’s family might think it odd to try to contact her only to find out she was out camping the day after the funeral.
The next morning I walked by Nicole’s door and figured I would let her sleep. I had not checked my e-mail much and when I logged in there was a letter from Sara. She had written a long, emotional letter to me. She said she understood I needed some time to “find myself” and to “tie up loose ends” but she hoped that when everything was done we could build upon our relationship. She said that while I had been gone she had thought of me constantly. Strange, I thought to myself, she had hardly crossed my mind since I had left Seattle. I figured I should reply so I sent her a letter saying that a friend had died in California and things were totally messed up. I said I looked forward to seeing her. I even went so far as to go to a gay greeting card site and sent her a card featuring two women eating at a candlelit table with a cute message. Yet after I sent it I returned to the site and looked at the card. I wondered what Nicole would think if I sent it to her! I quickly dismissed the idea as I figured we had been down that path and it had not worked out.
It was now almost 8am and still Nicole was apparently passed out. I did some browsing on news sites just to get re-acquainted with local happenings in Portland. Then a thought came to my mind. I decided to search the term “killer” for some reason and a story came up in the results that caught my eye. Some guy named Bernard Sinclair had been released on parole for the beating death of his girlfriend’s three year old daughter. The story said he had a record of violence and sexual offences prior to the beating, but had undergone extensive programs in exchange for his early parole for the manslaughter charge – he had apparently claimed he had not meant to kill the little girl but had become enraged at her lack of manners at the table. I knew enough about psychology to know that a molester with an anger management problem could not be cured very easily.
Since he was a molester I knew he would be on some warning list. I checked the sex predator registries all over the Portland area until I found the community he lived in. If this was my man I needed to make sure nobody could link me with him in the future. I opened up dozens of files before and after his name. The only difference for him was that I printed off his vital information. Of course lots of people were there that probably deserved the effort I would consider for Mr. Sinclair, but he was special – he had killed a little girl. Also, for some reason he reminded me of an older version of Daniel…at least in my mind he did.
I suddenly heard sounds from Nicole’s room. I shut down the computer and checked the kitchen for something good to eat. I reminded myself in a whisper, “Well, we have frozen pizza left over. This is Nicole, not Sara who liked yogurt or some health cereal for breakfast.” At that I laughed and continued to hold my conversation, “Come on Melanie, Sara is your girlfriend, not Nicole.” I then sat down and wonder
ed what it would be like if…then I smiled while lost in some weird daydream, “Come on now, get focused, she’s your best friend, not, well, not something else.”
Nicole came in and greeted me. Then she asked, “I thought I heard you talking to someone.” I laughed and said, “Oh, you know I sometimes talk to myself when I am alone and bored.” She smiled, “Well, hopefully I can make sure you don’t get bored too often.”
It was a beautiful warm day outside, pleasant, not like the overbearing heat I had experienced the last week, and I wanted to be doing something. I suggested we unpack the cars and get ready for our trip the next day. I suggested we pile everything into the garage for now and sort things later – I knew I had to spend time out there at some point clearing things of my mother’s and Gerald’s. Yet I did get a pleasant surprise when I noticed that Gerald had an unpacked tent in the corner. “How marvellous” I thought, “Now I don’t have to buy a tent!” I found all kinds of other equipment as well.
Soon everything was completed and Nicole and I could go and do some shopping. Nicole asked if we could look at some camera stores in case we were going to go camping a lot this summer. That idea sounded good – maybe I could use a more advanced camera.
The day was really busy but I thoroughly enjoyed it with Nicole. As we browsed around Portland I noticed she seemed to radiate a more positive glow – she even appeared younger despite having buried her husband less than 24 hours earlier...maybe because of it. We both bought advanced digital cameras and challenged each other to see who could take the best pictures. Now we had even one more reason to go camping, as well as other adventures, in the wilderness.
That evening, while Nicole was fixing dinner, I saw a news article showing some movie star’s tattoo. I really had no desire to get something like that but for fun I searched the topic of tattoos and piercings in images. One thing caught my attention – a picture of a topless woman suspended from a ceiling by large fish hooks inserted into the skin of her back, upper and lower legs. I clicked it on and watched a video of her ritual called “suspension.” There was some weird music that I figured was of the black metal variety, and groups of men and women covered in tattoos and wearing leather in the audience. I wondered what would motivate a young and attractive woman to scar her body in such a painful exercise. Then the thought crossed my mind of how long a person could live if left in that position. While there was not much blood leaking from her wounds it seemed that a person could not be left dangling there for too long. Then Mr. Sinclair came to mind! I wondered if maybe we could “hook” him, in a metaphorical sense, and then experiment on him literally! I would then have an answer to my question. I also wondered how we would dispose of the body afterwards. I did not tell Nicole – I had to run this fantasy through my mind a little while.
I went to bed thinking about how to go about my idea. If one found some specialty shop that sold these suspension hooks then, if the body was found, it would be too easy for police to find the source. There could not be that much of a demand that many stores furnished such goods. Could one use clothes hangers? That could work unless the weight pulled the knots you would tie apart. Then, something crossed my mind. A brilliant idea I concluded – normal, everyday locks. A person could make tiny incisions, insert the locks through the skin and loop ropes into the outer part of the lock.
Now came the other three concerns – how to lure him into our trap, where to do the experiment without being caught, and how to dispose of the body. Inspiration began to flow through my mind! I thought to myself that Nicole was going to like my ideas. The only difference from the past was now it was just us two women. We would have to be careful as well as compensate for our lack of physical strength as opposed to what Mark and Daniel had. Yet here we would see what women could accomplish if they put their minds to it!
The next day we packed the car and headed down to Newport. I had not been there for years and looked forward to the beautiful sandy beaches, hiking trails and also being able to explore the tidal pools. Nicole was sort of quiet and I asked what was wrong. “Nothing is wrong, quite the opposite, this just reminds me of when we would go exploring in high school. I thought I could never feel those nice feelings again, but they are coming back. Thank you Melanie.” I put my hand out and held hers. Her comment and presence caused my mind to become flooded with feelings of the past. I responded, “Yeah! But this is summer and we have the chance to do so much more!” She squeezed my hand tightly and fell back in her seat and looked out the window, closed her eyes, and smiled.
We were winding around the coastal mountain roads and I asked Nicole, “So, were you serious the other day? Would you like to rid the planet of some lowlife?” She looked at me and presenting me a flirtatious grin said, “Who do you have in mind?” I gave her the printout on Sinclair, she looked it over, and then she said she could see “converting him into mulch.” She asked what I had in mind and I explained – I then suggested buying some chicken wire while in Newport, some locks once back in Portland, as well as rope. For location I asked if she thought we could find the place I pinned the guy with arrows – the dead tree might serve a purpose again. As for the body, that place on the Columbia would be ideal. She asked how we could catch him and I just said, “Oh please, tell me this guy would hesitate helping out two young women ‘lost’ in his neighborhood.”
Now we had a scavenger hunt to conduct as well as a camping trip. When we entered Newport we saw a large home and garden accessories store and we went in and purchased a roll of wire. I asked the man at the counter if this was what you used for a bunny cage and he said that was what his daughter had for her rabbits. We would pick up the rest in Portland. For now, we loaded up on food for lunch as well as supplies for a several-day camping trip.
We found this cute little campground that was next to the beach but was nestled in huge fir trees with a beautiful stream running to the ocean. You could hear the muffled sound of the waves washing up on shore but the trees blocked any wind. It seemed like a scene from a fairy tale.
This was the first time Nicole and I had ever actually done anything but a daytrip in nature. Once we wrestled with the tent we hiked down to the beach and tried out our new cameras. The wind had died down and it was surprisingly warm for the late afternoon on the beach. We had about an hour before the sun would set so we just walked along the tide, sometimes having to run away when a larger wave would approach us. Nicole suggested we remove our shoes but I did not want to carry shoes and a camera at the same time.
When we came across this little fresh-water stream cutting the beach in half I hopped across and extended my hand to Nicole. She grasped it and I pulled her so she would not wind up with soaked feet – yet when she made it across she did not let go. I was unsure what to do so as we walked we held each other’s hands and took in the beauty of the waves and sky together. I would be lying if I said the thought never ran through my mind of taking this to the next level, but I chose to maintain the innocence of the moment.
That evening we sat in front of the campfire and talked. It was different with Nicole than with Sara, we could talk about everything and Nicole appreciated getting deep and esoteric. We could discuss absolutely everything together and pretty much agree with each other’s perspective, except with one issue – kids. It was pitch dark outside, except for the fires people in the surrounding campsites had made, plus their flashlights. It sounded as if one couple near us was having trouble getting their children to settle down to sleep, to which Nicole commented, “I am so glad I won’t have children. What an inconvenience.” I looked at her funny and she responded, “Oh come on, once you have kids you are never totally free anymore. And then you have to stress about them.” I blurted out a question without thinking, “How did Daniel feel about that?” She responded, “How did he feel? He didn’t want kids either, in fact he told me he was going to get a vasectomy before we would marry. He actually never did, but since our intimacy seemed to die right after the honeymoon it was not necessary anywa
y.”
I did not pry about the intimacy comment but I did ask, “How could a guy sign up to pledge his life for his country but be against making the sacrifice to preserve his culture by having kids? That does not make sense at all.” Nicole responded, “To Daniel the military was a goal, something to climb in status in, the whole patriotism thing had no meaning to him.” I asked if she might reconsider children in the future and she shrugged her shoulders and looked towards the tent with the screaming kids, “Oh, who knows, maybe. You know, we used to argue about this when you and I were, well, you know. I guess some things don’t change, do they?”
There was a strange awkward silence for just a few seconds, but those seconds felt uncomfortably long. We had both avoided the subject of our brief intimate relationship but it was inevitably going to come up. I sort of wondered how Nicole would react to my involvement with another woman – would that affect her feelings towards me? I guess it was best to not bring it up at 10 o’clock in the evening. I suggested we get ready to go to bed and Nicole yawned and agreed. The children in the other tent seemed to have given up the fight and I think both of us passed out soon after we shut off the light.
The next morning I awoke really early – maybe around 6am. I could feel the stiffness in my legs from sleeping on the ground and not having exercised all that much for two weeks. I quietly got out of my sleeping bag and debated on what to do. I finally decided to go for a run on the beach before breakfast. I got dressed but as I unzipped the opening to the tent Nicole woke up and asked where I was going. I replied, “I think I need to go running, but I will be back in about 30 minutes.” She groaned, “I admire you. Good luck and try to be careful.” I assured her, “Aren’t I always?” She sighed and crawled back in her huge sleeping bag – the one that used to belong to Gerald.
It was wonderful running on the beach, nobody there but me and the seagulls. It was early dawn…dark and cloudy with a mist rising over the waves. I thought I felt some rain droplets but it did not really come down in buckets until I was far down the beach, at least two miles away from camp. I turned and ran back as fast as I could, but within minutes I was totally drenched. I did not even have to bother skipping on the rocks to avoid getting wet in the streams.
Melanie's Awakening Page 9