by Blair Grey
My mind went into some sort of mode that it had never gone into before. I got the bloody towels and took them to the washer, putting in lots of laundry soap and bleach, I put the setting on hot and started them.
Taking the bleach with me and grabbing a cleaning rag off the shelf full of them, I went back to the living room and began cleaning the blood off the floor.
As effective as the bleach was on the blood, it also stripped the brown color from the wood of the floor. “Fuck.”
I would have to get some matching wood stain to cover that up. I also would need to get another rug for the spare bedroom that looked a hell of a lot like the one I’d wrapped Jerome up in.
My hand jerked, then began shaking. I put the gallon jug of bleach down before I dropped it. My stomach cramped and I ran to the bathroom. Puking into the sink, my entire body shook.
After splashing water on my face, I looked into the mirror. My lips were swollen, and blood crusted them. Smears of more blood covered my dress. My hair, that had been put into a nice updo, hung in odd pieces around my face. Makeup that had been perfect, now made me look like a sad clown.
He did this to me.
The sound of one click came from the living room and I ran to see if it was Jerome, coming back to life. I found things the way I’d left them, but the screen of my cell phone that sat on the coffee table was glowing brightly.
My chest hurt as I took a deep breath and went to see what kind of a message I had waiting for me. I wasn’t ready to communicate with anyone about anything. I had so much to figure out and such little time to do it in.
Checking the message, I saw it was an email and not a text. Sandra Stone, the Valedictorian from my senior year of high school in Baltimore sent a reminder of the fifteenth reunion that would begin the very next day and last all weekend long with various activities planned.
I hadn’t been popular in high school. But I’d had a couple of girls I called friends back then. If I hadn’t just killed my fiancé, I might’ve thought about going. But I had, so I couldn’t very well go party with people from my past while a dead body rotted in my cousin’s home.
Opening the internet on my phone, I typed in, how long does it take a dead body to begin to stink?
I had to know how much time I had before things would begin to get very messy. I found a webpage that gave me more information than I’d even asked for.
“The Dearly Departed and the Body They Leave Behind,” I read the title of the article out loud. I scanned it, looking for only the most important pieces of information. “A dead body can have an extremely unpleasant odor.” Duh.
Before I went on reading any further, one name came to mind – Lyle Franklin. He’d antagonized me my entire senior year of high school. And I’d heard that he’d joined a biker gang in Baltimore.
Who better to help with this than a man with no soul? Besides, he owes me.
Chapter Three
Lyle
“What are you doing here today, Lyle,” Leo, the vice-president of the Iron Cobras asked me as I came into the bar at our headquarters. “Isn’t the high school you went to having a reunion or something? I saw something about it in the local newspaper.”
“I’m not going to that thing.” I grabbed a beer from the bucket full of ice on the bar and twisted the top off it, tossing it into the trash before I took a seat with Leo.
“They say most people laugh when they get the invitation to one of those things. I know I did. I went to my twentieth reunion last summer. Everyone looked so damn old. It was depressing.”
“You are pressing forty, old man.” I took a drink of the beer as Leo laughed.
“I am pressing forty, thanks for reminding me about that, Lyle.” He took a swig of his beer too. “You know, I got together with some of my high school buddies before we all went to the gathering together. We got a little tipsy before we faced the sea of faces that had changed so much it made it nearly impossible to recognize most of our classmates.”
“Twenty years is a long time. People do change.” I expected the same would happen if I went to my reunion.
“Yeah, but the funny thing is that everyone just kept saying how everyone looked the same.” He shook his head. “Not to me, they didn’t.”
“What about old girlfriends?” I asked. “That has to be awkward as fuck to see them again.” I thought about Avia. Not that she was ever my girlfriend, but she was the one I thought of the most from back then.
“It is.” He laughed. “But you see what you might’ve gotten stuck with too.” His body shook with a shudder. “Rhoda Kawalick was my girl the last part of senior year. And buddy, let me tell you that time was not kind to her. I dodged a bullet there. And the other thing that annoyed me was how everyone kept saying that it didn’t seem like twenty years had passed. It felt like it had been longer than that to me.”
“Sounds like you had a bad time, Leo.” I knew I was right not to want to go deal with something like that.
“No, not all of it. After making the rounds and saying hello to everyone, asking them how life is treating them, hearing about their families and jobs, and giving them the low down on yourself, you end up hanging out with your old group of friends. And that’s fun.”
“Did people bring up dumb shit you did back then?” I knew I’d done more than my fair share of dumb shit in those days.
“Sure they do. You laugh and get over yourself.” He smiled. “Todd brought up how I’d farted in Biology class the last week before school got out. Sure, I was embarrassed that he brought that up. But it made for a good laugh for us all.”
“The things I did weren’t funny.” I took another drink of the beer.
“Then people probably wouldn’t bring them up,” he said.
“I’d rather not find out.”
He wasn’t done, trying to entice me into going to the reunion that would be going on all weekend long with various activities. “You really should go. There’s always some woman who shows up looking like a runway model. You know, the dumpy chick that you never looked twice at? And there are lots, and I do mean lots, of newly divorced babes there too. They’re ready to go at it with pretty much any guy they ever had a crush on too. Easy women are right up your alley.”
“Free love, huh?” I laughed. “Not that I need any of that. I’ve got plenty of women right here who throw themselves at me on a regular basis. I don’t need to go down to my old high school to find some pussy.”
“But this is different pussy and they all leave to go back to where they moved to.” Shaking his head, he seemed to think that I just wasn’t getting it. “You’re missing out. That’s all I’m saying.”
“And what am I supposed to say that I do for a living? I know they’ll ask things like that.” I was the enforcer for the Iron Cobras and that was how I made my living. “I don’t want to have to explain my job to anyone.”
“Then don’t.” He gestured to me. “You’re above average physical appearance will tell them not to ask you too many questions. You’re sort of formidable, Lyle. It’s not likely that your old classmates will swarm you, asking about things you’d rather not talk about.”
“I am a badass.” Always had been.
“I can see that you’re just not into it. So, don’t go. Miss out on seeing people you might not ever see again.” He sighed then got up to go to the bar. “Mable called earlier. Her back went out. She’s sending one of her grandkids to run the bar tonight. We might be saying goodbye to the old broad soon. She’s got to be a hundred if she’s a day.”
“Right?” I had to laugh. “That old dame has been here way before I came around. I hope her grandkid isn’t an asshole.”
“Mable would never send anyone to cover for her who was an asshole.” He went around the bar then came back with some crackers he found. “I’ve got to eat something, or I’ll be drunk before noon.”
“Come on, let’s go grab a bite. I haven’t had anything to eat yet either.” The dream I’d had the night before, came back
again last night. I had no appetite after waking up with the memories of what I’d done to Avia. But Leo needed to eat and so did I. “My treat. I’m thinking of Italian. How about you?”
“Sounds good to me.” He put his leather jacket on then we headed out to our bikes. “You know, we could do a drive-by of the high school so you could take a glimpse at who’s there.”
“Nope.” He wasn’t going to give up. “I don’t care who’s there. I really don’t, Leo. Now, come on, let’s go to Fabio’s and get some Manicotti.”
“Sounds good to me.” He climbed onto his bike then we went to eat.
After parking the bikes, we headed inside and I heard a familiar voice, “I’ll have the spaghetti and a salad.”
Hesitating at the door, I didn’t want to appear like I gave a shit. But the voice belonged to an old classmate. Not a friend, but someone I knew was going to the reunion as he’d been a band geek. A geek I’d made fun of plenty of times.
Henry sat at a table with three other former band geeks and all four of them looked up at me as Leo and I passed by. I kept my shades on so they wouldn’t recognize me.
Leo took the booth across from them, much to my disappointment. Sliding into the booth, I tried not to notice the way the four guys at the table tried not to stare at me. Slipping off my sunglasses, I heard one of them whisper, “Is that Lyle Franklin?”
Leo overheard the whisper we weren’t meant to hear. “Are those some of your former classmates, Lyle?”
“It is you,” Henry said as he got up and came to me with his hand extended. “Wow, you look great. Like a warrior or something. Do you remember me? I’m Henry Saxton.”
I shook his hand. “Yeah, I remember you, Henry.” I looked around him at the other guys. “I remember all of you. Boyd, Trey, and Phillip. You guys in town for the reunion?” I knew they were. I just didn’t have shit to say to any of them, so came up with that lame crap.
“We are,” Henry said. “We’re mustering up our courage to go to the gym for the meet and greet. Tonight there’s a dance too. You going to any of that?”
“Nah.” I thought about all the stupid shit I’d done to all of them. “I wasn’t a real great kid back then. As a matter of fact, I’d like to apologize to all of you. I know I did some mean shit to each one of you. Let me buy your lunch.” I saw a bottle of wine on the table. “And drink all the wine you want. It’s on me. Sort of a peace offering for those years I made your lives hell.”
“Hell?” Henry asked with a laugh. “You weren’t the only person who picked on us. Hell, even girls gave us a hard time back then.”
“Well, I’m paying for lunch to try to make up for my actions. I had issues with my father that made me act like an asshole.” I didn’t know why I was explaining things to them. “Anyway, we’re gonna eat then we’ve got shit to do. Nice seeing you guys.”
“Yeah, you too.” Henry went back to take his seat. “And thanks for lunch. That’s real nice of you, Lyle.”
“Not a problem.” The way my chest tightened told me that if I did go to the stupid reunion, I’d be feeling this way the whole time. Uncomfortable and guilty as fuck for how I’d been all those years ago.
“If I had a time machine, I would go back and change so much,” I told Leo.
“You were a bully, so what?” He nodded at the waitress who’d just come to our table.
She’d overheard what he’d said. Her eyes came to me. “You? A bully? Yeah, I can see that, Mr. Tough Guy.”
Only women over the age of fifty had that kind of gall to say whatever they fucking thought. “Thanks, Flo.”
“No problem. I tell it like it is,” she admitted proudly. “And in the spirit of telling it like it is, I will tell you that the alfredo sauce isn’t up to par today. Johnny let his kid take over the kitchen today and it’s not going so well. Stick with the traditional ways, I told him. But no, he’s gotta try out new recipes. Anyway, the marinara is still good.”
“I’ll take a manicotti with marinara then, Flo. And how about a draught beer to go with that?” I looked at Leo to let him know I was done with my order.
“Same.” He put the menu away. “I’ll make it easy on you today, Flo.”
She cocked her head then scratched the spot behind her ear with the pencil in her hand. “Leo, I think I heard a lady in here a couple of days ago who said she had a date with you and that you never called her back. What gives? She was nice looking?”
Running his hand over his face, he huffed, “She was clingy, Flo. I took her to my place after we’d had dinner out and she actually rearranged the squirrel collection on the mantle. When I told her that my late wife had left them that way, five years ago, she told me it was time to move on. Then she came and sat right next to me on the couch and took my hand in hers, holding it for the next two hours while we watched a movie on the television.”
“Well, she asked for it, didn’t she?” Flo blew a chuck of grey hair out of her face. “I’ll be back with your beers and a basket of fresh breadsticks.”
Trying not to laugh, I pulled out my cell phone to check my messages. “You still have your wife’s things in the same places she left them, huh?”
“I do.” He sighed heavily. “I can’t seem to put them away.”
“Five years is a long time,” I thought he should know. “Karen probably wouldn’t want you to be alone this long.”
“Yes, she would want me to be alone this long and even longer. She was sick for a long time with that breast cancer. I jokingly asked her how long I should wait to move on, and she said that I should never move on because she was the best woman in the world for me and I’d never find another like her.” He grinned. “Sort of evil of her, wasn’t it?”
“Sort of.” I laughed to lighten the mood. “I’m sure she was kidding.”
“I’m sure she wasn’t.” He smiled at Flo who’d come back with our beers. “Thanks, Flo.”
“Sure. I’ll be right back with the bread.”
“I haven’t had a steady girl for nearly five years too. The last live-in cured me of wanting that again. She could nag like it was her fucking job.”
“Karen wasn’t a nag at all. I loved that about her. If she wanted me to do something, she was smart about it. She’d start doing it herself and knew that I’d take over when she was having a hard time with it.” He picked up the heavy, frosted mug full of amber liquid. “She’d go out to the garage and try to fire up the push mower to mow our lawn. I’d hear her cursing up a storm as she’d yank on that rope to start it. Then I would go out, hit the primer three times then start it right up. Then I would mow the lawn and she’d go inside and make me a snack for when I was done. She’d meet me in the living room right after she heard the mower go off. A cold beer and a plate of nachos would be sitting right next to my chair. She was a real partner in life – more than just a wife.”
“Glad you had that. Not all men get to have a girl like that in their lives. I can see why you have a hard time finding another woman. Who could replace Karen, right?”
“Right.” His eyes glassed over. “No one can replace my angel. No one. I should just stop trying.”
Who was I to tell him anything different? But my mouth shot off anyway, “You can’t just stop trying, Leo. Life is meant to be shared with someone.” I couldn’t believe I’d said that.
Neither could he. “Look who’s talking.”
“Yeah. I just thought about that. I’ll shut the hell up now. Find someone – don’t – whatever.”
After a filling meal, I felt the urge to nap. As we headed out to our bikes, I didn’t have to come up with an excuse to head off on my own as Leo said, “I’m going home for a bit. I’ve got some cleaning to do. I’m going to pack away her things. It’s time.”
Patting him on the back, I knew that wasn’t an easy thing for him to decide. “Good for you, brother. Make that home yours and yours alone. If you find someone to share it with again, at least you two won’t be sharing it with Karen’s ghost.”
> With a nod, he got on his bike then headed off. I got on mine and headed in the opposite direction, going to my place. Pulling into the driveway, I clicked the button to open the garage then pulled into it.
Shutting off the bike, I hit the button to close the garage door when I heard, “Lyle? Lyle Franklin?”
Pulling off my helmet, I turned my head just in time to see a woman standing there as the garage door closed. “Avia Forester?”
What the fuck is she doing here?
Chapter Four
Avia
The garage door closed after he called out my name. I wasn’t sure if it was going to open back up again. But then I heard the sound of the front door opening and there he stood. “Avia Forester, is that you?”
Going to the door, I nodded as I wrung my hands, trying not to look guilty of murder. “It’s me, Lyle. I need to talk to you. Do you think I can come inside? This isn’t the kind of thing I want anyone overhearing.”
“Yeah.” He stepped back to let me in. “You look – well, different.”
“Yeah, I know.” I had on tons of makeup to cover up the bruises on my face. “You got bigger.” He looked like the old Lyle I’d known way back when. Only bigger. “And hairier.” His dark beard went to the middle of his chest. “You certainly epitomize the physical attributes of a fearsome biker; I have to tell you that.”
“You’ve got on more makeup than Dolly Parton.” He closed the door then lifted his arm to gesture to the living room. “Have a seat. You want something to drink?”
“A tall glass of vodka on the rocks would be awesome.” I needed something to calm my nerves. It had taken a lot for me to come to ask Lyle Franklin for help. I was beyond desperate.
“Nothing with it?” he asked as he went to the bar in the far corner. “I’ve got tomato juice and orange juice too. I make a mean Bloody Mary and my Screwdrivers aren’t half-bad either.”
“Just give it to me straight please.” As I sat on the sofa, I felt like I might be sick again and looked around for a sign of a bathroom. “Um, do you happen to have a bathroom I can use?”