A Life Removed

by Jason Parent

  They’d known it was fate when their parents joined up with the good, pious folk at the compound in Waco soon afterward. Kelly had been ordained to become the seventh wife to the Great Prophet, and Doug couldn’t have been happier for her. Sharon was happy, too, albeit for more selfish reasons.

  But a Satan-maneuvered government was out to destroy the wonders set before them. As the Great Prophet foresaw, the government’s power eventually became too mighty for their small band, who’d fought the powers of evil until the Lord’s Rapture had taken them all—except three children too young and too frightened to fight. They’d lost everyone that day twenty years ago but survived it by sticking together, always struggling, clawing their way back into God’s good graces, vowing never to fail him again.

  Under their new prophet, they were almost there, back in his light. They’d come so far. But while Kelly was the rock at Doug’s side, Sharon spent her nights alone. Rebuilding had to be harder on her than on them. He should have been there for her more. She knew it was sinful to resent Kelly for her good fortune, to covet what her friend had. Perhaps her resentment had blinded her and allowed her to be led astray so easily.

  None of it mattered anymore, though. She had committed the ultimate sin, and neither Doug nor Kelly were to blame. She needed to let her love know the truth. She had to tell him he was damned.

  So it seemed that fate had interceded again when her phone rang in her lap. Doug’s name appeared on the screen. She pulled the gun from her mouth and answered the phone.

  “Sharon?” Doug said. “You there? We’re all worried about you. I’ve been trying to reach you since—”

  “I’m… I’m here.”

  “You okay? It sounds like you’re crying. I’m coming over.”

  “I saw him,” Sharon cried. “I saw him when he Tasered Robillard.” She closed her eyes, searching for a moment’s peace in the dark, but peace had become an illusion, a lie like all the others he’d tricked them into believing.

  “Sharon, please calm down. Let’s talk about this.”

  “No, Doug. You’re not listening to me. He… he was smiling. He actually enjoyed stunning that man, even after Robillard was already unconscious.”

  “He had to be sure he was out and not just pretending again.” Doug let out a long breath into the speaker. “Look. He does enjoy it. I’ve seen that, too. But that’s because he feels the light inside him, knows he’s saving yet another lost soul. We all are, Sharon. We’re doing so much good.”

  “And what about the cat?” she blurted. “Why did he have to kill the cat? We were at an animal hospital! He could have left it there alive. When I confronted him about it, he said he didn’t want to set it loose with a broken paw. He said it was a humane death. I think he got off on it. It’s funny, five redeemings, and it takes the death of a cat to make me realize how wrong I’ve been… how wrong we’ve been. And not just now, Doug, but all those years. That’s the worst part. All of it, all it’s ever been is one giant lie.”

  “Is that what this is all about? A cat? What we’re doing is so much more important than that. Do you really want to just lay it all aside over some stupid cat?”

  “What’s the expression? ‘God is in the details’? Well, there was something seriously wicked in those details, Doug.”

  “Sharon, where would we be without him? He’s helped us all so much. You know how we were before. You know it better than any of us. Me, you, all of us. We have purpose now. We’re stronger. We’re doing what others are afraid to do.”

  “Has he helped us? Look at me now: depressed, afraid… alone. I’m right back where I started when we left the compound.”

  “Let me come by. We’ll talk in person.”

  “No, I don’t think so. I think I’d rather be alone right now.”

  “Don’t lose it, Sharon. He’s shown us something you can’t ignore. I know you felt it like the rest of us. You can feel it again. We need you, and we all love you. Don’t walk away from us.”

  “He’s brainwashed us. Don’t you see? I don’t know what causes that feeling, but there’s nothing miraculous about it. He doesn’t kill them for their sake; he kills them for his own sake. You can see it in his eyes. I watched him kill the last one. I watched him closely. When he brought down the blade, his eyes were horridly delighted. His smile was dark and twisted like something straight out of Psycho. And that’s us, too, Doug!” She sobbed and tried to catch her breath. “We’re psychos!”

  “The prophet has—”

  “Prophet?” Sharon sneered. “He didn’t look like a prophet to me—that’s for sure. He looked like a demon. He’s a false prophet, Doug, and he’s led us all astray.”

  “Sharon, we save them.”

  “No, Doug. We kill them. We’re murderers, we’re sinners, and we’re all going to hell. I left a full confession for the police. You should get out of here. I have to go now. Take care, Doug, and give Kelly my love. Goodbye.”

  “Sharon, don’t hang—”

  She tossed the phone onto the bed. Then she put the gun to her temple so she wouldn’t have to taste it.

  CHAPTER 8

  The sky darkened with fat clouds threatening rain on a cold day so close to Thanksgiving. Those in attendance had less to be thankful for that holiday. Some had lost a relative. Some had lost a friend. A few, however, had lost something more. They’d lost a kindred spirit, one of their own.

  Aaron was bored. Death was already starting to get old.

  He’d driven Ricardo to the funeral out of respect for his friend, not for the dead woman he’d barely known. He’d only met Sharon once or twice. She’d seemed nice enough, maybe a little dull. But she was dead, and life went on for the rest of the world. He wondered why he should pretend to care just because the rest of the world was pretending. Because he’s your friend.

  Reason enough. “Is it an open casket?” he asked as he pulled into a parking spot in the funeral home’s lot.

  Ricardo frowned. “How could it be?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t know? Aren’t you a cop? Don’t you read the paper?”

  “Know what? How she died? I guess I just assumed it was drugs or something.”

  “She blew her freaking head off. If anyone should show a little sympathy and understanding for her, I would think that would be you.”

  “I’m sorry, Ricardo. I—”

  “Doug found her like that. He got there before your friends could. He had to see…” He covered his mouth and pretended to cough.

  “I…” Aaron didn’t know what to say.

  Ricardo opened the car door and got out. His cane was in his hand, but he didn’t unfold it as he started inside.

  “I’m sorry!” Aaron called after him. “Stupid,” he muttered. “That was so stupid.” He ran a hand down his face and groaned.

  Real swift, Aaron. He stayed in the car, hoping to let his gaffe blow over. He laughed nervously. She shot herself. I’ve never even had the balls to do that.

  He rested his forehead against the steering wheel, recalling the last time he’d tried to kill himself.

  The container held fifty tablets. “Do not consume more than six tablets in twenty-four hours,” its label said. Aaron had known he wasn’t supposed to mix the pills with alcohol. For most people, aspirin was fairly harmless. But Aaron was supposed to be allergic to it.

  As a child, his mother had once given him half a pill, and his neck had swelled like an over-inflated bicycle tire. The swelling blocked his air passages and nearly suffocated him. The doctors were considering a tracheotomy, but fortunately for little Aaron, the swelling had subsided rather quickly.

  Since then, Aaron had always wondered if he was still allergic to aspirin or if it was merely a childhood hypersensitivity he’d outgrown. Guess we’ll answer that question. He took a handful of pills, rolling the dice with his life
on the pass line, then chased them with Jack and Coke. He wrote Arianna a note. He cried. He crawled into bed, guessing he probably wouldn’t be crawling out of it in the morning. Arianna slept beside him all night, never the wiser.

  As the fates would have it, Aaron woke up fine. The aspirin left no side effects, save for a chalky taste in his mouth. He got up, flushed the note down the toilet, and went about his day.

  The morning would have been uneventful and his second suicide attempt would have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t left the near-empty bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on the counter. Arianna apparently still found Aaron’s drinking on a weeknight peculiar, though he’d been doing it more often, and the amount of whiskey that had disappeared from the bottle would have raised the most oblivious person’s suspicions.

  “How many did you take?” Arianna asked when she found the empty aspirin container on the bathroom sink and marched it over to him. Aaron knew he would have to answer for what he’d done.

  She seemed outraged at first. He worked the pity angle as best he could with sad, puppy-dog eyes. It calmed her, but only a little.

  “How much, Aaron?”

  “Enough. We ran out.” You should have bought the hundred-count bottle.

  Teary-eyed, Arianna looked as though she might collapse into Aaron’s arms. Instead, she slapped him hard across his face. “Why would you?” She slapped him again. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  “I don’t know.” It seemed like a good idea at the time.

  “‘I don’t know’ is not acceptable. Is it because of me?”

  “No.” Shit! He’d paused too long before answering. She must have noticed. Not just you, anyway. He tried to recover. “I’m just so tired of everything. It’s not even that I’m depressed. It’s that I don’t see a point. I go through life, day in and day out, doing things I hate, and for what? I have absolutely nothing to show for it. Yet every day, it’s the same old miserable bullshit routine.”

  “Nothing to show for it? What the hell am I?”

  “You know what I mean. With work and… stuff.”

  “Do you still love me?”

  “What? Yes! Of course!”

  “You’d better.” She slumped in the chair across from him. “So if it’s gotten this bad, quit your job. Do something else.”

  “That’s just it. I can’t quit my job, start over, and work for less somewhere else. I need every cent of every paycheck. I spend each one before I can even deposit the damn thing. I’m stuck where I am, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” He decided not to mention the part where his girlfriend making twice as much as he did made his balls shrivel. “I had so much ambition but never any direction. It makes a lot more sense to kill myself than to go through a lifetime of endless monotony. Even the weekends suck because I can’t afford to do anything. What’s the point? I racked up all that college debt to pay for something I hate doing. Life’s a cruel joke.”

  “We will get through this. Together. It will get easier.”

  “When will it get easier? I’ve been telling myself that same lie for years. Death seems like my most rational option.”

  “There’s nothing rational about killing yourself, you stupid, selfish little man.”

  That hurt. Selfish? Ricardo said the same damn thing…

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Is this about the abortion? You’re not still upset about that, are you?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say I’m happy about it.”

  “That was months ago. Get over it already. What right do you have to tell me what to do with my body? You know I don’t want children. Not now, anyway.”

  “It’s your body, but it was our baby. I just wished you had talked to me about it first.”

  “What was there to talk about? Combined, we’re over two hundred grand in debt, we live in a small house in a bad neighborhood, and we barely have enough time to show the dog enough affection. A baby was not something we need right now.”

  “I know that. We made a mistake, and we’re usually so careful. Still, did we do the right thing?”

  “We?” Arianna exploded out of her chair. Her stare was accusatory as she leaned toward him. “We have nothing to worry about because you were too dumb to notice. So don’t worry about it, Aaron. It’s my cross to bear.” She pushed past him, heading for the door. “God, you sound just like Rick. Get off your fucking high horse.” She stormed out of their home, slamming the door behind her.

  Aaron jolted awake as Ricardo closed the car door. “Have a good nap?”

  “Sorry,” Aaron said, rubbing his eyes. “Haven’t been sleeping well.” Two years ago, and not a thought about suicide since. Why have I been dreaming about it so much lately? He shook it off and turned the key in the ignition.

  “I just don’t want to lose her, man.”

  “What? Who? Arianna? Because I know you aren’t talking about Sharon.”

  “Yeah, Arianna. I’m sorry. This really wasn’t the best time—”

  “Well, you are going to lose her,” Ricardo snapped, “if you don’t pull your head out of your ass. That girl’s stood by you, put up with all of your bullshit, because she remembers the guy you used to be—the guy I remember. Sometimes, I wonder, though. Was that guy ever real, or was he just an act? ’Cause lately, you’re so stuck in this ‘woe is me’ funk that you don’t even recognize how good you’ve got it. Smarten the fuck up and show that girl a little appreciation.”

  “I want to. I just… I just don’t feel like she wants to be with me anymore.”

  “Sometimes I don’t know if I want to be with you anymore.” Ricardo slumped and sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’re right—this is not a good time to talk about this. Just know this: you’re crazy. That girl loves you. The only way you’re going to lose her is if you push her away. So don’t be stupid and push her away.”

  Shaking his head, Aaron pulled the car into the small funeral procession. They rode to the cemetery in silence. When he parked on the path three cars behind the hearse, Aaron got out and walked with Ricardo toward the gravesite.

  “I’m going to hang back,” Aaron said, stopping to lean against a monolithic tombstone. “I didn’t really know her, but I’ll be right here.”

  “Suit yourself.” Ricardo finished walking the thirty feet to where the dozen or so other attendees had gathered.

  From his vantage point, Aaron watched and waited. Another person his age had beaten him into the grave despite his earlier efforts to win that race. It almost seemed unfair. Had the sun been out, the cemetery might have been beautiful, a well-manicured landscape of stone-walled fields and fertile earth.

  Ricardo stood beside Doug and his wife as the casket was slowly lowered into the ground. Doug—six feet ten inches, and two hundred ninety pounds of muscle—crumbled like a baby into Ricardo’s arms as his wife cried beside them. Ricardo was a rock, but Aaron knew his friend was in pain. Kelly’s mascara ran down her cheeks, creating grotesque streaks, while Brittney attempted to console her. Aaron wondered if anyone would cry for him at his funeral. And who would cheer?

  The four mourners, and Aaron, by default, stayed long after the priest had said his final words and all the others had gone. After a while, the gravediggers asked them to leave so that they could fill in the grave and be on their way.

  Ricardo started away then spun back and tossed his cane onto the snapdragons, carnations, daisy mums, and gladiolus flowers covering Sharon’s casket. Aaron heard it thud against the hard cedar. He gasped as Ricardo turned to walk toward him. Brittney moved to his side, but Ricardo shook off her arm.

  Ricardo walked straight up to Aaron. “Brittney will take me home. Thank you for the ride.”

  “Rick… your cane… I…”

  “I don’t need it anymore.”

  That night, Aaron dreamed he was back at the cemetery. Only his body was in the
casket, dressed in a fine black suit and being slowly lowered into the grave. Blood gushed from the scars on his wrists. His heart pumped feverishly, draining him faster and faster. Above was a bright-blue sky, then shadow, then his own face smiling down, laughing. His other self slammed the coffin lid closed.

  He thrashed awake.

  “Another bad dream?” Arianna laid her head on his chest. The melon scent of her shampoo wafted into his nose as her thick curls tickled his chin.

  “Yeah, sort of.” His scars itched. “Maybe I just need a vacation.”

  She sat up and straddled him. Her arms squeezed her breasts together in a way he found tantalizing. She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “We just had one.”

  What’s gotten into you? Aaron didn’t know what had brought about the sudden display of affection, but he liked it. Ricardo was right. He did need to show her a little more appreciation. Maybe their problems were all in his head. Smiling, he stroked her soft arms. “How about a whole week this time?”

  “My boss would love that. But seriously, with your snoring and bouts of insomnia, maybe you should do us both a favor and see a doctor. I have bruises all over my legs from your kicking. People are starting to wonder if I’m a victim of domestic abuse. It’s not healthy for either of us. You could have sleep eepnea.”

  “Apnea.”

  “What?”

  “Forget it. At least I have the morning off. My shift doesn’t start until four today.” He pulled her down closer and whispered into her ear, “Maybe we could—”

  “Actually, I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night.” Arianna slapped his chest and jumped out of bed. “My brother’s home, and I volunteered you to help him move back in.”