Sin to the Darkness

by S London

  The dark-haired woman smiled and nodded, crawling back under the covers and getting comfortable. She closed her eyes and in seconds was fast asleep, lost inside a dream that was more of a long lost

  memory of her at a young age, when her parents were still alive.

  The woman in white waited several moments, watching the other woman as she got cozy again and waiting until she was sure the woman had fallen back to sleep. She tried to resist the force of the force,

  truly not wanting to do what was expected of her, but she hadn’t the strength to stand up to it.

  “Please do not make me do this. Please.” She pleaded.

  “I’m not. The rules are. You agreed to it. You agreed to the rules, you must abide by the rules.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  A loud rumble of laughter, evil laughter, echoed throughout the room.

  “Stop it! You do not scare me.” she lied. “I’ll do it my way. And if I refuse, then so be it.”

  “You cannot refuse. I own you, dumb bitch.”

  “Oh big manly beast, must use his words because his action is shit.” The woman in white blurted out, not entirely meaning to, but secretly proud of herself for finally doing so.

  There was silence; a deafening silence that the woman was not at all used to.

  ‘Probably not the best thing to have said…’ she thought to herself, still smiling. ‘Oh well. What can he do to me? I’m already dead. I’m already living in a dimension that’s far worse than any prison ever could be. At least prisons have heat and electricity and people you can interact with...’

  Several moments went by, then minutes. ‘Good, he’s gone on to bother someone else. Thank god.’ The woman said to herself. She looked down at the little girl lying in the bed beside her mother. They

  looked so peaceful and happy together and she couldn’t help but smile. She looked at the bear, still in her hand, and in the little girl’s hand. She remembered what she was about to be made do, and shuddered. She was thankful of her accidental outburst of an insult, though it wasn’t much of anything, really. She placed the bear under the covers next to the little girl and let go of it.

  “I'll be going now, so good night to you, beautiful living ladies, and sorry.” She turned, hoping to herself that they had no recollection of tonight’s events and walked out of the room then walked down the hallway and disappeared into the little girl’s room.

  AUGUST, 2007

  “Honey, can we talk about something?” Ben said, taking his wife’s hand and leading her to the bench outside the small café.

  ‘Uh oh. Here it comes…’ Beth thought to herself. She knew this day would come eventually. Though she never would admit it, she was already prepared. She had rehearsed what to say and how to handle

  everything. Thanks to four years of drama classes at the local theater, she’d been able to perfect the act of ‘false identity’.

  Beth studied the face of her husband, a look of surprise and wonder in her eyes. She had learned to perfect that, too. “What is it?” she asked.

  Ben spilled the beans about his client, Christina Stephens.

  “How long has this been going on?” She asked calmly.

  Ben took a deep breath and looked into his wife’s eyes. “Just a few months… before we came here.”

  Beth’s eyes filled with tears as she stared dumbfounded at her husband, unblinking. For a moment, she sat, almost frozen, holding her breath, as if waiting to hear more. She longed for more but wasn’t sure what more she wanted to hear. Maybe an apology. Maybe an explanation. A lie even. Anything. For months she had known what was going on but hearing it straight from the horse’s mouth just made it real. Too real. She was not prepared for how she would feel when he told her, partly because she never expected him to. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had seen this trip as their fresh start. Their escape from the life they’d had in America. This was to be their new life. She didn’t foresee any of their past being part of their future. But it suddenly had caught up with them, there to slap her in the face. The past was present; it had followed them all the miles across the ocean. And now, here it was, tossed right in front of her.

  “Honey.” Ben said, bringing Beth out of her trance-like state. He looked into her eyes, searching for a response. He longed for one; for anything she had to say.

  Beth turned her gaze past him, to a young boy in his mother’s lap. More tears filled her eyes as the sight of them brought back the last argument she’d had with Ben. She looked at Ben and stood, turning away quickly to wipe at the tears that had begun to fall. She bit her lip, trying hard to hold them back as she walked away without saying a word.

  Ben stood and followed, calling for her but she refused to stop.

  Beth, though active in the community theater, was not one to make a scene in public. Especially not a scene over something so personal. Their condo was just across the street and around the corner. She rushed across it, secretly amused that Ben had to wait several minutes because of the traffic. Lunch hour. Everyone seemed to take their lunch breaks at the same time.

  The brisk pace gave her several moments to clear her head and focus on what she had wanted to say when she first found out.

  “How?” Beth cried moments after Ben had walked through the door. “How??” she repeated.

  “She’s a client. The girl I’ve been treating since she was a teenager. Her parents died, her brother died. She has no family. She needs someone, honey.” Ben explained, realizing immediately his poor choice of words.

  “I didn’t know that was your job…” Beth said, furious.

  “Always available when needed, that’s the deal for everyone. That’s part of my job, honey.” Ben tried to console Beth but she turned away.

  “House calls to lonely girls. What an exciting career, Ben!” she scoffed.

  “It was a mistake. I didn’t know what was happening with us.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  Ben paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “It wasn’t something I wanted. I’m sorry.” He said.

  “I just do not get it.” Beth spat. “Why?”

  “We weren’t going anywhere, Beth. I didn’t know what the point was. I didn’t know what to do. It was like you didn’t want me anymore.” Ben, pacing the width of the kitchen, said. Beth was now seated on a stool at the counter, her hands on her face, clutching several strands of hair with her fingertips.

  “You never once thought of me, so do not stand there and tell me you did.” Beth spat. “And don’t you dare try to pin this all on me. I’ve not done one thing wrong to you and you know it. You damn well know it!” She yelled angrily, almost knocking the stool over as she jumped up and stomped off toward the stairs. She was furious at him for even dare trying to pull her into his web of betrayal.

  “Beth?” Ben stopped her at the stairs.

  “Please just stop.” She stomped up the stairs.

  “Honey, I’m sorry.” He followed several steps behind.

  Beth stopped on the landing, turned and looked down. “Is that really all you have to say to me? ‘Oh I’m sorry’. You really think I’m sorry is going to make it all okay?” She screamed in the direction of Ben, slapping away his hand.

  Ben sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Tears rolled steadily down his fair-skinned cheeks. “I don’t know what else to say.”

  “I will never forgive you. Never.” She said shakily and turned away, sobbing. Ben stood behind her on the railing, his arm extended. She shrugged his hand off her shoulder and walked down the long hallway toward the guest bedroom. She rested her hand on the doorknob and paused, turning around.

  “Good night, Ben. Be out before I get up please. I never want to see your face again.” She said firmly.

  Ben felt his heart leap into his throat, the words echoing in his head. He knew by her tone that she was serious. He nodded, solemnly, and watched her disappear into the dark room.

  Ben waited until he heard the click
of the door’s lock then turned into the master bedroom, flicking on the light. Thoughts of the day’s events were playing over in his head. He stood at the window, taking in the view for the last time. So incredible. The noise, the smell… ‘I shouldn’t have said anything,’ he

  whispered to himself. ‘I should have just let today end as perfect as it had began. Too late. Must pack. Must leave. But where would I go? I’ve lost my house, my job, and now my wife. She’ll probably sue me for all my money, too. Damn that conniving woman!’ he thought to himself.

  Four months ago, the two of them had left their beach house and had begun their vacation. Traveling around Europe; it was something Beth had always dreamed of doing and something Ben had twice

  promised Beth they’d do together.

  “I’m a stupid man.” He said, taking a long hard look at himself in the mirror that hung above a tack board full of photos they’d taken together over the years. Photos from their first date, their wedding date, their first vacation together, and every adventure they went on together. Looking more closely at the photos, Ben could see the distance that had grown between them over the years.

  ‘So much tension’ he remembered his assistant saying to him several times. His assistant was an intern; a student at the same college he himself had graduated and received his degree from. His name was Patrick and every day he would come to work wearing his ball cap, proudly supporting his favorite team. The Mets. At first, Ben was adamant that Patrick lose the cap, for it wasn’t a professional look, but his views and insight and ability to make any client feel more at ease, more than made up

  for it. He envied the young man and knew that one day this boy might very well take his job out from under him, if he wasn’t careful.

  All of a sudden, their entire conversation came rushing back to Ben. Whereas some people had a photographic memory, Ben and his intern, Patrick, had what they referred to as REWS. Remembering Every Word Syndrome. Neither of them knew the correct term for what they were able to do, but they

  preferred their term anyways.

  “Dr. Branham, is everything alright?” The young man in the ball cap asked, tapping his pencil’s eraser onto the desk he sat at. His brown eyes studied the face of the man in the blazer and jeans standing

  against the window. The man’s face tightened, as if he was thinking hard about something.

  “Everything is fine.” He said, more sharply than he had intended.

  He turned from the window and apologized. The young man nodded and waited, sensing the doc was about to say more. But he didn’t.

  “I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that there is too much tension somewhere in your life. Now whether it’s personal or business, that doesn’t matter. But you really need to relax Dr. B and just let life happen the way it’s going to happen, and remember. The best thing to do is be honest, with yourself and everyone around you.”

  “It’s Beth. I just do not know what to do anymore, really. I’m getting older and older and my life is getting shorter and nothing is falling into place the way I had hoped. Every day I help people sort out their life problems and their dreams and goals and relationships and it seems so easy and they all have so much gratitude as if I’m some kind of being that really can heal them when really all I am is someone to listen to them go on and on and remember their every word and everything that happened

  and try to give them advice that I feel is right and their lives become better. Just by a few simple things I say that they themselves could have figured out. But then when it comes to my own life and my relationships and all, I am at such a loss it’s beyond belief. And…”

  “Whoa! Hold up there doctor of speech!” The young man interrupted. “Let’s not go into ramble mode. The thing is, you’re an outsider listening to someone tell you their life story. You aren’t in their head hearing all the things they hear, or thinking about all the things they think about. Therefore, you can see choices more clearly. The same way with you, is the way with them. The only difference is they have someone to listen to them. They have you. You don’t have you and that’s what your problem is. Make sense?”

  “You really are quite insightful. Are you sure you aren’t a veteran psychologist in disguise?”

  “Well, you know… my eighth sense is telling me what to say. It’s a thought reader, really.” The young man laughed and moved to sit on top of the desk, rubbing his chin as if in deep thought.

  “Just listen to me, old man. All you need is someone to listen, you feel me?” The boy was pulling his Brooklyn thug accent, feeling a joke was needed. “Now come, let’s go grab some lunch or something before your next client comes. She’s due here in about two hours.”

  The doc chuckled. “My my young man, you really do have a way with words, don’t you?” He came over from the window and stole the boy’s cap. “Let’s go get that grub. You can have the rest of the day off, afterward. My last client isn’t coming today.”

  “Oh? That’s fantastic. I got a strong feeling an early end to a busy work day is what you need right now. Take some stress away from a stressful day whenever you can, right? That’s what you told that one lady. I remember because she was pretty. I always remember things pretty girls say…”

  They grabbed their jackets and left the small office, both laughing as if they were old high school friends reminiscing about some old silly things they used to do.

  Beth closed the door and locked it. She couldn’t believe the words she’d just said to the man she had fallen in love with nearly eight years ago. ‘Never want to see your face again’, she repeated in her head. ‘Never.’ The word seemed to echo around the room. “Did I mean that?” she whispered aloud to herself, leaning against the door, silently awaiting Ben’s response but only half expecting one.

  The moment she heard the door of the master bedroom close, her heart began to race. She could hear Ben shuffling about on the other side of the wall. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing. Was he packing? Was he really going to leave?

  * * * * *

  “I know it’s not entirely your fault, and I’m sorry for taking it all out on you. But I just do not understand any of this…”

  “I don’t either…”

  “Ha.” Christi scoffed. “Just like a man to play innocent when they know they’ve gotten themselves into trouble.” She stomped off into the kitchen.

  Great. Two women stomping off in the same week. This was definitely not one of Ben’s good days. Ben groaned and jabbed his fingers through his hair.

  “How did things get this way?” he thought to himself. He stood, reached for his coat, and followed Christi to the kitchen.

  “Umm…” he said, clearing his throat to get Christi’s attention.

  She turned, her almond brown eyes looking toward him but not completely focusing on him. She was still trying to sort things out in her head.

  “I’m sorry. I should go.”

  “Do as you like.” She said flatly, without emotion.

  “May I use the phone to call a cab?”

  Christi gave a slight nod and turned away, taking a mug from the drainer and filling it with hot water from the steaming kettle on the stove. The burner was almost too tiny for the pot to fit on but for some

  reason the other three had refused to work.

  “Just great. Another thing that needs fixing around here…” She had said several days after being informed that the deed to the home and land was being put into her name. At first, she thought it was a joke, a late April fool’s Day prank. A week later, a man in a black pinstriped suit and blue tie, with gray hair, showed up at Christi’s door with a dozen forms clipped to a fancy wooden clipboard. He assured her everything was legit and got her autograph on several of the pages. That was that. The house was hers. Excluding the yearly taxes, it was free.

  “No need for us to have two houses to worry about.” Beth had said when she called.

  “Oh… are you sure?”

  “Please. You wo
uld be doing us a favor. Really.”

  “But… I’m not exactly sure I’m ready to be a homeowner.” Christi replied, honestly, chuckling nervously.

  “Oh. Well, I understand. Please think about it and call me later?” Beth suggested.

  “Sure thing.” Christi had said. And she did. She couldn’t think of any good reason to not take the lady up on such an exciting deal. A twenty something with a house of her own on the beach and no mortgage. And someone else insisting on paying your taxes. Not every day a deal like that comes

  by. Three hours later, she called back, agreeing to keep the house.

  “I won’t bother you anymore and you can keep the house.” Ben said quietly as he slipped out the front door. The same front door he had carried Beth through when they first bought the home several months ago. And now it belonged to Christi.

  “What a mess I got myself into. I quit my job to move to make my wife happy. I confess my sins because she wants us to start fresh and she divorces me. Then she sells my house. My ex wife selling my house to my ex girlfriend. That’s a coincidence beyond a coincidence, isn’t it? How could such a thing happen? Am I dreaming? I must be. I really must be. Things like this don’t happen in real life. There’s no way things like this could happen…” Ben rambled while waiting on the steps for the cab. Being this far from town, the cab would take at least half an hour to reach him. He decided he could use the time wisely, use it to think and sort things out.

  “She knows.” A voice behind Ben whispered.

  “Huh?” Ben spun around on the steps. A young boy sat a step behind him. Ben wasn’t sure what to say. He had never seen this boy before but he was sure he knew who it was. He searched his memory, trying to recollect anything he’d ever heard about a young boy that fit this boy’s description. His mind was in a flur, he couldn’t focus on any information stored in his brain.

  “Hi…?” The boy said softly, breaking the ice. He put his lips together and pushed them out in a pucker. “Look. I’m a duck.”