On the Edge of Dangerous Things (Dangerous Things Trilogy Book 1)

by snyder-carroll s.

  So, although it was more expensive than she thought an old trailer should be, and monthly fees were high, and taxes would be more because they weren’t homesteaded in Florida, and insurance had to be figured in, and Al would probably want to fly down as much as possible, even if Hester couldn’t go. Despite all of this, Hester nodded eagerly and said, “If you think we can afford it, Al.” After all, he did handle all their money

  Al gave her a big kiss right on the lips right in front of the manager, while simultaneously and secretly grabbing her ass. “How’s it feel to officially be trailer trash?” he teased.

  “Great! Just great!” Hester was bursting with excitement. It was so great to be with Al when he got his way.

  Nineteen

  Another year at Sourland High and Hester had finally gotten the first edition of the literary magazine printed. She’d been alone in the copier room until one of the new teachers, Theo Ottinger, walked in.

  “Theo, if you’re not busy, would you take this box into Mr. Murphy’s office? I finally got the lit mag done.” Hester had dressed carefully this morning and looked stylish in her black tailored pantsuit with her favorite leopard print scarf loosely wrapped around her neck. As she’d been contemplating what to wear, she’d been daydreaming about this new staff member, this really young and really hip staff member.

  “Sure, no problem, Mrs. Murphy.” Theo turned toward Hester. The space was small and cramped, and they stood only a couple feet from each other. Hester could see the soft brown freckles on the bridge of his nose.

  “Please, Theo, call me Hester. We’re colleagues, and it makes me feel older than I am when you say ‘Mrs. Murphy.’”

  “Hester? Okay, Hester, sure, no problem.” He put down the stack of papers he was holding and picked up the large box.

  “I hope I’m not keeping you from something.”

  “Not really. Just trying to run off the one-act plays my freshman performing arts students wrote last week.”

  “I’m glad to hear you’re having them write something. It seems like the English teachers are the only ones who make students write, and as I’m sure Al told you, at Sourland High every teacher is supposed to be committed to teaching reading and writing across the curriculum. Al will be thrilled to hear about what you’re doing.”

  Theo smiled, and the dimples Hester had admired the first time she’d met him, appeared. Handsome, vibrant Theo seemed pleased by what she said. He seemed like the kind of young man who wanted to get ahead in life, and would. Hester liked that about him.

  Al wasn’t in his office when they got there, and Hester found herself stalling for time, asking poor Theo a million questions. Why not have Al walk in on them? See them together?

  But the bell rang, and Theo quickly excused himself.

  The next morning Hester fussed with her hair, blew it out, set it on electric rollers, and brushed the hell out of it to get it smooth. Eyeliner, mascara, lots of lip gloss. The gray pantsuit or the navy skirt and vest? Definitely pumps. They give my calves good definition…so the skirt and vest.

  As soon as the last bell of the day rang, Hester headed to Theo’s classroom. She could hear the music as she was coming down the hall, Roy Orbison, “You Got It.” She caught her reflection in the glass as she opened the door and thought she looked fairly young herself today.

  Theo was standing on top of a student desk stapling posters on the bulletin board singing his heart out to the record. From the back his lanky body looked almost feminine, his long sandy-colored hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. Hester walked over and handed him the next poster in the pile.

  He almost lost his balance. “Oh, thanks, I didn’t hear you come in,” he shouted over the music, flashed those dimples, and jumped down. “Want to dance?” He laughed and sang another line of the song before he turned the record off.

  “I just came to offer my services. Al told me last night he put you in charge of the Shakespeare festival.” This was a lie. Al and Hester didn’t say two words to each other last night. She’d caught him walking Janine to her car and was so annoyed, she’d taken her dinner, her copy of The Inferno, and her pride, and spent the night in the guest room. She found out about Theo directing the festival that morning from Gladys.

  Before Theo could answer, Hester added, “I know Janine Apgar always assists whoever is in charge and likes making the extra money, but Al thinks she deserves a break, so he suggested I see you about your plans.” Another lie.

  “I haven’t thought about the festival yet. I mean, it’s only October, so that leaves two months before rehearsals.”

  “Theo, believe me, December will be here before you know it, and you have to cast the performance before the break, or the kids will never know their lines. Look, why don’t we get together after school and plan it all out?”

  “If you say so.”

  “Come to my room after the last bell tomorrow, and don’t be late. We’ve got a lot to do.” And without thinking, Hester winked at Theo, and she was startled by the way he blushed.

  That night while she was cooking dinner, Hester told Al, Theo Ottinger asked if she could give him a hand with the Shakespeare festival. The poor guy was in a panic, so she couldn’t say no, even though she knew Janine would be upset because Janine usually assisted whoever ran the festival.

  “Please, Al, can you explain it to Janine. If I try to tell her, she’ll accuse me of taking money out of her pocket. You know how she can be with me. Coming from you it’ll be easier for her to take, especially since the two of you seem to get along so well.” Hester let the dig hang in the air between them before she went back to chopping her onions and imagining the look on Janine’s face when she learned Hester would be working on the festival.

  Theo and Hester sat in Hester’s chilly classroom trying to decide between Midsummer Night’s Dream or Much Ado About Nothing when Al walked past. Hester caught him craning his neck to see what they were doing. He was checking up on her, and it was about time, she was enjoying Theo’s company more than she expected.

  Soon it was December, and Hester was still mentoring Theo. Together they held auditions for Midsummer. The day before the holiday break, the last part given out, Theo asked if Hester would meet him for dinner one evening during Christmas vacation. “You can help me flesh out some ideas for costumes and sets.”

  The word “flesh” sensuously tumbled out of Theo’s mouth.

  “Al and I are leaving for Florida on Christmas Day,” Hester said, “but I could squeeze in lunch on Christmas Eve.”

  “Lunch. Christmas Eve. It’s a date, Mrs. Murphy, I mean, Hester.” They walked into the hall together and in the distance heading in their direction was Al. Hester grabbed Theo’s hand forcing him to turn toward her and away from Al.

  “Wait, Theo.” She went up on tiptoes and kissed him, hoping he’d kiss her back. Theo didn’t hesitate. He took Hester’s chin in his hand, looked into her eyes, and kissed her, an opened mouth, hot tongued kiss. Hester sensed Al getting closer and closer. By the time she wriggled free from Theo, Al was standing six feet away, the look on his face not a happy one. His deep set eyes shifted from her to Theo and hardened.

  What had she done?

  She didn’t give a damn how mad Al was with her. She wanted him to be furious with her, but she hadn’t thought about the possibility that Theo would get caught in the crossfire.

  Twenty

  “And up and split and up, together…keep those arms going…” Joyce Valducci shouted commands to the grunting people in the packed pool. “Dueling Banjos” blared from her boom box. Hester was in the shallow end behind Dee and Eve trying to do jumping jacks while simultaneously making circles with her hands in water that barely came up to her hips.

  Who dreams up this stuff? She wondered as she headed around Dee and Eve and got out of the pool.

  “Is there a problem, Hester?” Joyce shouted.

  “No!” Hester shouted back, “just going to the ladies room!”

  She didn’t
have to go, it was an excuse. When she got inside the stall, she put the seat down, sat on it, and stuck her fingers in her ears to block out the loud music.

  During the one week that Nina spent in Pleasant Palms, Hester insisted she go with Hester to water aerobics. Nina jumped into the cold water, and Hester was stunned by how quickly the girl’s nipples hardened and how visible they were through the thin fabric of her bikini top. Hester was tempted to tell Nina to go home and get changed into something less revealing, but she couldn’t figure out how to say it without embarrassing her.

  Before the hour was up, Nina concluded that she hated water aerobics. “It’s stupid, Mrs. M,” she whispered to Hester between routines, her voice edgy, “besides it hasn’t done you any good, has it?”

  Hester was a bit wounded by what Nina said. It wasn’t fair. Hester worked hard to stay fit and trim, and here was Nina, doing nothing and every inch of her body looked lean and sculpted. Al would’ve said, like a brick shit house. Hester had heard more than one man besides her husband, say, this woman or that was built like a brick shit house. Hester knew it meant that the woman being referred to had a great body, but why brick? Why shit house? Really, the comparison confounded her.

  Another comparison, the one between herself and Nina, didn’t confound her, so much as depress her. When Hester was around Nina in Florida, it made her feel old. She could do water aerobics all day, every day, for the rest of her life and never again look like Nina did in her bikini. Hester would continue to age, her muscles would continue to take on adipose tissue, her bones would turn brittle, her skin sag and wrinkle. Being fifty something was what it was, and Nina was right, water aerobics were stupid. Hester could step it up, though. Start running again. Running was something Hester did briefly in the past, but stopped because Al said it took up too much of her time, and she was going to ruin her knees. And, as he warned her, he wasn’t going to be the one to push her around in a wheelchair; but now she could see, no matter what the downside was, jogging would get better results than jumping around in a pool.

  Finally the music stopped and Hester came out of the ladies room. Joyce was toweling off, telling everyone, “Good job! Good job!” and pulling on a bright red T-shirt that had printed on it, “I WINE A LOT. I DON’T KEEP THINGS BOTTLED UP.” That made Hester smile. It felt good to smile. Maybe she’d end up liking Joyce Valducci more than she’d ever like water aerobics.

  Dee and Eve were going to do some more pool walking. Since everyone else left and the music was gone, Hester, not wanting to be alone, decided to join them. She would jog tomorrow morning, early. For now walking around in the pool was better than nothing.

  The women follow each other in a big circle. After about ten laps, they stood in place and bounced up and down. Sarah Kettinger breaststroked over. Her round white sunglasses hid her eyes, her long nose was covered with zinc oxide and beneath her small mouth her first chin disappeared into a fat second one which jiggled as she spoke, “You won’t believe it when I tell you.”

  “What won’t we believe?” coaxed Dee.

  “The Daniels got a call around midnight last night.” Sarah jerked her head from side to side. Her greater chin followed the lesser one as she checked to make sure no one was within earshot. “Their son Matt, the one who lives in Oregon with his wife and new baby, was arrested last night. I tell you my heart goes out to that family. You know how close Oscar and I are to Sandy and Dave Daniels. They are good people, the salt of the earth. I tell you I don’t know what this world is coming to. Matthew must’ve been on drugs. Drugs will be the death of this—”

  “Sarah,” Dee, who had little patience for tangents, interrupted, “just get to the point.”

  “Alright, anyway, their son Matt put his new baby in the microwave and turned it on.”

  “What? You’ve got to be kidding.” Hester honestly thought she was kidding.

  “Girls, I swear on my sainted mother’s grave. He did it. He put his two month old baby girl in the microwave oven and turned it on! Judy, Matt’s wife, went for a walk and left baby Sharlene home with Matt. Matt told the police Sharlene wouldn’t stop crying no matter what he did. He tried everything and then he thought, maybe she’s cold, so he stuck her in the microwave and turned it on for a couple of seconds.”

  “What the hell happened?” Dee gasped.

  “Well, baby Sharlene is badly burned, in intensive care, critical condition. Matt’s in jail. But you should’ve heard Sandy on the phone, ‘My son would never do anything to hurt anyone. He loved that baby. He would never hurt her. You know Dave and I didn’t raise him like that. He’s a good boy. Really he is.’ Well, I’m thinking, is she kidding? A ‘good boy,’ a nutcase is more like it. Then she claims, ‘He’s never done anything wrong in his whole life.’ Right?”

  Hester was sick to her stomach. She trudged away from the women to the ladder and climbed out of the deep end. More fodder for nightmares, she thought as she grabbed her things and walked home.

  Al was polishing the used golf cart he’d just bought. He looked up at Hester as she was draping her wet towel over the lounge. “There’s something on the counter for you.”

  “Oh yeah, what?”

  “A surprise.”

  “What kind of surprise?”

  “Oh hell, Hester, just go in and look.”

  He’s frustrated with me? If he only knew, Hester was tempted to tell him the last thing she wanted from him was another surprise, but thought better of it and went inside the trailer. A small gift box was on the counter. Under it was a card. She opened that first. It was one of those thinking-of-you Hallmark cards. There was a little man on the front with a thought bubble over his head. In it, it said, “Thinking of you…” Inside the card it said in big letters, “…always makes me happy!” Al signed it, “Al.”

  Hester couldn’t ignore the narcissistic subtext of the message. I get a card from him telling me how damn happy he is. Well, what about me? Am I happy? Will I ever be again? She took a deep breath and tossed the card back on the counter, rather than in the trash, which is where she really thought it belonged.

  Hester halfway already knew that whatever was in that box, it wasn’t going to make her feel any better. Bringing Nina back to life, or being able to prove Al was innocent, or calling the police and telling them where Nina was buried, or ending her marriage, or all of the above might make her feel better.

  Hester picked up the gift. The wrap was sparkly silver, the ribbon pink. It looked like a gift for a much younger woman, not for old Hester Randal Murphy, who felt like she was drifting away on the tide of time, her existence becoming more vapid and miserable by the minute. Al, though, thought Nina was still alive, back in New Jersey, back in college, partying with kids her own age. If Hester didn’t have the backbone to tell him the truth, turn him in, leave him, then she deserved to live in torment.

  She had no backbone. There was no way out. She invested the best years of her life in being Mrs. Murphy, and she didn’t have the strength to start over, to try to be somebody else, to try to be who she really was.

  Hester wasn’t surprised when she unwrapped the box and it was a ring box, but she wasn’t prepared for the wide, brilliant diamond encrusted band. It was so beautiful, it made her cry. She looked up, and Al was watching her from the doorway.

  “It’s a belated Christmas gift, and…” He hesitated. “Thanks.” But he didn’t say for what, and Hester didn’t ask. She wiped away the tears as Al came into the kitchen and reached for her hand. Hester watched him as he took the ring and put it on the third finger of her right hand.

  “I saw in one of your magazines about how women are buying their own diamonds for their right hands to show the world that they feel good about themselves. I knew you would never splurge on something like this, so I did it for you. You should feel very, very good about yourself, Hester.”

  He sounded like he was reading advertising copy. Hester didn’t know how to react. Al’s hand was on her wrist, his touch warm and familiar.
Hester leaned back against the sink. Al tilted his head and tried to get her to look into his eyes. She did. He had wonderful, intense eyes. Al ran both his hands up Hester’s arms to her shoulders. He massaged them and reach around to the back of her neck and massaged the stiffness out of it. Then he was stroking her décolletage, his hands just above her breasts. Each motion lifting them, almost imperceptibly.

  Hester didn’t move. She looked down at Al’s hands. They seemed as though they were touching someone else. Why was she letting Al put his hands on her? Hadn’t she resolved never to let him touch her again? Hadn’t she drawn a line in her mind that she wouldn’t cross?

  She’d live with him because she couldn’t live without him, but that would be all. He would pay for things, he would take care of her, and get nothing in return. That was the way she wanted it. Yet here he was, slipping one strap of her bathing suit off her shoulder, then the other. The top of her nipple was showing. As he leaned forward, she felt his breath on her face. His lips were warm on her neck.

  For nearly two months, Hester had not once touched, nor been touched by her husband. She believed, in fact, she’d been permanently cured of her prior physical obsession for him. Since their bedroom roof still had not been fixed, she slept on the couch, and he moved into the guest room and was sleeping in the same bed, on the same sheets, for Christ’s sakes, Nina slept on.

  So what was happening now? Why wasn’t she pushing him away? Squirming out of his arms? Running for her life?

  But Al had Hester’s face in his hands, ran his fingers through her hair, down her back. His tongue traced a wet path from her neck to her cleavage as he pulled her suit down to her waist. He cupped her breasts in his hands and rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, tugging on them, staring at them.