by Jeff Strand
"Then what? Hide in here forever?"
"He's human. He has to sleep."
"Why don't you call the police?" asked Myra.
"We can't," said Skip.
"Why not?"
"It's not important."
"If somebody is on his way over here with a gun and you can't call the police, the reason must be pretty important."
Skip cleared his throat. "Kirk and I met because I hid in his bedroom and tried to kill him."
"Excuse me?"
"It's true," said Kirk. "Welcome to my day."
"Let me get this perfectly straight because I feel like there's a lot of room for confusion here," said Myra. "You're telling me that he came over here intending to kill you, but instead you ended up screwing some violent guy's wife together?"
"Yes," said Kirk. "And it sounds bad even when you don't say it out loud like that. Even in the moment I was thinking, 'Wow, I hope I don't have to explain this to anybody.'"
"But you did it anyway?"
"If you saw Julie, you'd understand," said Skip.
Kirk told him to shut up.
"You could leave out that detail when you called the police," said Myra.
"Ralph hired me to do it," said Skip. "He'd blab."
Myra looked at Kirk. "Have you done anything criminal that you wouldn't want the police to find out about?"
"No. I mean, uh, I guess I took money from Ralph to have sex with Julie."
"And did you take this money from him at a legal brothel in Nevada?"
"No."
"So that would be prostitution."
"Agreed, but I gave the money back to him when he came over here."
"The violent husband came over here?" Myra asked.
"Uh-huh."
"Why?"
"He, y'know, found out that Julie and I had good sex instead of bad sex."
"He paid you a visit and you not only continued to have sex with his wife, but you invited a friend?"
"He's not my friend," said Kirk. "And I didn't invite him. But, yes, though you got some of the details wrong, what you said is correct."
"I hope you realize that I'm never going to sleep with you again."
"I didn't realize that, but I understand."
"Just to be clear, I think your reasons for not calling the police are stupid," said Myra. "I'll respect them for now, but I'm calling 911 the second I feel unsafe."
"That's reasonable," said Skip.
"Now that I know the chain of fucked-up events, I guess I understand why you thought that I'd have sex with both of you."
"Only Skip thought that," Kirk said. "I couldn't believe he even asked."
"My brain and mouth don't communicate well," Skip admitted.
"So do we have our plan?" Myra asked. "Lock the door and wait?"
"We have our plan," said Kirk.
28
"Oh, shit," said Julie, staring at her computer screen.
She'd said "Oh, shit" about a dozen times since receiving the e-mail from Kirk and didn't think she'd said it nearly enough times to convey her true feelings about the matter. There was no way to put an optimistic spin on this.
Her hands were trembling so violently that it took her a couple of tries to successfully tap Kirk's phone number.
"Julie?"
"How did he find out?" Julie asked. "I sure as hell didn't say anything."
"I don't know," said Kirk. "Skip found out when he talked to him."
"So Skip told him?"
"Let me find out." There were some muffled voices on the other end. "Yeah, Skip told him. He says he's sorry."
Julie closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. She'd known she was taking a risk today, but she assumed that if she got busted it would be because of a tiny crucial detail she'd overlooked, not because she'd fucked a couple of morons.
"And Ralph said he was going to kill me?"
"No, apparently he ruled that out. It's Skip and me he wants to kill."
Julie felt like a complete bitch for being so relieved. She'd be wracked with guilt for the rest of her life if something happened to Kirk and/or Skip, but at least she'd have a rest of her life.
"Have you barricaded the door?"
"No. We just locked it. Do you think that's not enough? Is he the kind of person who'd try to break down a door in a hallway full of possible witnesses?"
"I've never known him to have a temper. But I've never cheated on him. You guys stay alert. I'm going to talk to him."
"Maybe you should—"
Julie hung up on him. She doubted Kirk was dispensing high quality advice right now. She called Ralph. After a few rings it went to voice mail. She called again and he answered on the fourth ring.
"Hi, sweetie," he said.
"Hi, Ralph. How are you doing?"
"Good."
"How was work?"
"Good."
"I'm surprised you're not home yet."
"Yeah. I stopped at the store to get a few things."
"Are you on your way home now?"
"Almost. Got a couple more errands to run."
"Okay, I know you know what I did, and sure, I could lie about it, but then I wouldn't be respecting your intelligence, and I love you too much for that."
"What did you do?"
"You know."
"I want to hear you say it."
"You don't want to hear me say it. I guarantee that you don't. It won't make you feel better."
"Tell me."
"I had relations with Kirk. And I had relations with Skip. And those relations happened at the same time."
"You were right," said Ralph. "I don't feel better hearing you say it."
"Does your errand involve killing them?"
"No."
"Are you telling me the truth?"
"I believe so at this moment."
"Don't kill anybody," Julie told him.
"Why not?"
"Because it's murder. If you have regrets later you can't take it back and say you were just kidding. And you'll go to prison for the rest of your life."
"Only if I get caught."
"You'll get caught."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because you'd be the primary suspect! You have a big-ass motive! You'd be the first person the cops went after, and you'd probably still have blood dripping off your hands when they found you. Don't kill anybody, Ralph."
"Okay."
"You promise?"
"I said okay! I told you I wasn't going to kill them when you asked me the first time!"
"What's your errand?" Julie asked.
"It's not important."
"Are you going to Kirk's apartment?"
"Are you tracing my movements? Did you hack into my phone's GPS? Did you already call the FBI?"
"Of course not. It was a logical guess."
"Logical guess? Is that what they're calling it these days?"
"Please, Ralph, don't turn paranoid."
"I'm not paranoid. I didn't say a goddamn thing about aliens. But you suddenly know exactly where I'm headed and I'm supposed to assume you just guessed correctly out of the billions of places I could've been going? It's not like we live in some small town where the only destinations are Bob's house and Bob's barn. You're watching me. Can you see me now? What am I doing right now with my left hand?"
Julie was ninety percent sure that he was pretending to pick his nose, but guessing correctly would be the complete opposite of a smart thing to do right now.
"Ralph, I need you to calm down and think about this."
"Quit using my name all the time like you're trying to establish a personal connection with me. I won't fall for it."
"I'm your wife!"
"Still..."
"I haven't reported you to the police, and I haven't hacked your phone. I know that you're very angry with Kirk at the moment, which is why I guessed that you were headed over to his apartment."
"All right, that does make sense," Ralph
admitted.
"What I'd like you to do is stop whatever you're doing, and spend fifteen seconds thinking about our conversation so far. Replay it in your mind. I'll tell you when the fifteen seconds is up. Can you do that for me?"
"Sure."
"Thank you. Start now."
Julie spent the next fifteen seconds taking long, deep breaths. She thought she was doing a pretty good job of not letting on that she was on the verge of hysteria. Somebody had to be the sane one here.
"Did you reflect upon the conversation?" Julie asked.
"Yes."
"And how do you think you sounded?"
"Maybe a little bit crazy."
"And do you think I'm right to worry that you might do something you'd regret?"
"Maybe."
"Not maybe. Think again about the part where you accused me of tracing your movements by hacking your phone."
"Okay, yes, you're right to worry."
"Do you have any weapons with you?"
"Does a knife count?"
"Yes."
"Then yes."
"What are you planning to do with the knife?"
"Wave it around menacingly."
"I'd like you not to do that."
"I'm not going to stab anybody with it."
"If you're waving it around, somebody could get stabbed."
"I suppose you're right."
"I'd like you to throw the knife away right now."
"I'm driving. I can't just roll down the window and chuck a knife out onto the road. It would pop somebody's tire. You act like I'm the one behaving irrationally but you're the one telling me to throw knives all over the place. What if it bounced up off the pavement and hit a baby?"
"I know our marriage is on shaky ground right now," said Julie. "But we've been together for a long time, and I have one huge favor to ask of you."
"What?"
"I'm going to head over to Kirk's. Swear to me that you'll meet me in the parking lot before you go up there. Let's talk about this face-to-face."
"You'll just try to persuade me not to do anything violent."
"Yes, that was my plan."
"Not interested."
"Make you a deal. If we talk and you don't think I've made my case well enough, I won't try to stop you. I'll step aside."
"If I get there before you, I wouldn't need you to step aside, because you wouldn't be blocking my way in the first place."
"C'mon, Ralph. I'm asking one small favor. Talk to me in person first. That's all I'm asking. It's not unreasonable after all we've been through together. Promise me you won't go up to his apartment."
"What if somebody asks me why I'm standing outside with a knife?"
"Leave the knife in the car. You can get it later. Actually, stay in the car. Pretend you're playing a game on your phone. I'll be there soon."
"See you then."
"Wait, you didn't actually promise me."
"I promise," said Ralph.
"Thank you." Julie disconnected the call. She wasn't entirely convinced that Ralph would wait for her, but she'd just have to trust that on some level he still had enough feelings for her that he wouldn't go on a mad killing spree without talking to her first.
She pushed back her chair and stood up as she called Kirk back.
"How'd your conversation go?" Kirk asked.
"He's on his way to kill you."
"Yeah, that's what I figured."
"He promised to talk to me in person first. I'm not saying he'll keep that promise. But if he waits for me, I think I can dissuade him."
"So, like, by offering him a blowjob?"
"No, Kirk. Not by offering him a blowjob."
"So, words then?"
"Yes. Words." Julie went outside through the back door. "You two just hang tight. I'll keep you posted on your danger level."
There was some murmuring on the other end.
"Did I hear a girl?" Julie asked.
"Oh, uh, yeah. My friend Myra is trapped in here with us."
"You're barricaded in your apartment with Skip and another woman?"
"Yes."
"Jesus Christ, Kirk."
"Calm down. We're not doing anything but being scared together."
"I'll talk to you later."
Julie shoved the phone into her pocket as she approached the shed in her backyard. She turned the dials of the combination lock, popped it open, and swung open the door. Clearly, she and her husband kept secrets from each other. He didn't know that she despised the bouillabaisse he made from scratch every year for her birthday dinner. He didn't know that she'd once been a butt double in a low-budget horror flick when the lead actress refused to do a nude scene. He didn't know that she occasionally shoplifted things she didn't need or even want for the thrill it gave her. And he didn't know that she kept an unregistered pistol in a box in the shed.
Her father had given it to her for her Sweet Sixteen party. "I hope you'll never have to use this," he'd told her. "And please don't feel like you have to use it just because it was expensive. I want it to stay in the box. Nothing would make me happier than knowing you'd never touched it. That said, there may come a time in your life when you need an untraceable firearm, and as your dad I think I should be the one to give it to you."
She knew exactly where the box was kept because every once in a while she'd come out here and cradle the gun to her chest for a few minutes—always with the safety on, of course. She retrieved the box from its well-hidden spot next to the exercise equipment, then left the shed.
Oh, Julie had no intention of shooting Ralph. She just felt like she might need more than words to dissuade him.
29
Kirk, Skip, and Myra sat in the living room, not sure how to pass the time.
"You guys sounded like you were having fun before," said Skip. "If you wanted to head back into the bedroom, I wouldn't think it was weird or anything."
"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Kirk inquired.
"I wasn't inviting myself. I wasn't even asking to watch. In fact, I'd decline to watch if you asked me to because somebody needs to keep an eye on the door. All I'm saying is that all three of us don't need to be sitting out here bored."
Myra looked at Kirk. "What is going on in that man's brain?"
"I don't know. I don't understand anything about that asshole."
"You don't need to be rude," said Skip. "I made a selfless offer, you weren't interested, and now we can move on. If you'd made that offer to me, I would've taken it, so I don't think it's unreasonable to assume that you would, too. I haven't known you very long, but I've got reason to believe that you're open-minded."
"I was reluctant about the threesome," said Kirk. "Reluctant as hell. I wanted no part of it. Did I enjoy it? Sure. Would I do it again? Sure. Has it expanded my view of the world? Yes, I'll admit that it has. But that doesn't mean I've become some hedonist who's abandoned all pretense of following social norms! Civilized people don't go into their bedroom to have sex when there's a guest in the apartment and a psycho jealous husband on the way."
Skip nodded. "I misread the room. Wouldn't be the first time."
"Should we gather more weapons?" Myra asked.
They'd gone through the apartment searching for items they could use to defend themselves against an onslaught by Ralph. There were a bunch of metal utensils strewn across the kitchen counter, and they'd also gathered a broom, a pair of scissors, a can of bug spray, three frying pans, a jar of Jif in case he had peanut allergies (Skip's idea), a fireplace poker that Kirk owned despite never having had a fireplace in his life, a sex toy that Kirk mistakenly credited Myra with having forgotten at his apartment, generating even more conflict in their relationship, and a bottle of wine, which could either be used to break over Ralph's head or as part of the celebration if everybody lived through the night.
"Should we play word games?" Skip asked.
"No," said Myra.
And so they waited.
* * *
&nbs
p; Ralph sat in his car, staring up at Kirk's second floor window.
Or what he thought might be Kirk's window. He wasn't positive how many windows across he should count to find the right one, and he hadn't noted the color of the drawn curtains on his previous visit. So he could be staring with hostile intent at somebody else's window. It didn't matter. Since Ralph inconveniently did not have the power to set somebody on fire with his gaze, the exact window was irrelevant.
He hadn't figured out his plan yet. He felt that he probably owed it to Julie to look into her puppy dog eyes and let her try to convince him that the disadvantages of slaughtering somebody outweighed the benefits. Though he wished he believed that they could salvage their marriage, he knew that every time he made love to her he'd envision some other guy right next to him trying to help out. Ralph could handle his wife shouting the wrong name during sex, but not the wrong two names.
He wasn't going to stab her, though. He had no immediate plans to stab her. He'd let things progress naturally, not try to force any particular course of action, but at this particular moment his prediction was that the day would end with Julie un-stabbed.
Ralph let out a long, deep sigh. In retrospect, he should never have approached Kirk in that pancake place. But hindsight was 20/20.
He wondered what it felt like to jam a knife into somebody. He picked up the knife, flipped it around in his left hand a few times, then brought the stainless steel tip up to the tender flesh of his right arm.
Hmmm. For a split second he'd considered jabbing the knife into his arm to see what it felt like. Ralph had to acknowledge that in that particular moment he'd been somewhat less than completely sane. Still, the moment was over and he felt sane now. He set the knife back on the car seat.
He wondered if Julie would bring along the gun she kept locked away in their shed that she didn't think he knew about.
* * *
As Julie drove toward Kirk's apartment, it occurred to her that a better plan might be to return home, grab as many of her belongings as she could fit into the car, clear out their bank account, floor the gas pedal, and get the hell out of town. Dye her hair black, start calling herself Petunia, and move to a small town with a low cost of living where people kept to themselves and didn't follow news of those big city crimes of passion.