This is a rewrite of a piece that had been published on LIT a while back but was pulled by the Mod because someone read "sexualization of murder" INTO my story line. Just to be clear here folks... I DO NOT WRITE, FEEL OR POSTULATE that concept here. I have ALWAYS had my characters accept the punishment demanded by willfully taking a human life or committing mayhem for that matter. If you read sexualization of violence into my story line... THAT IS YOUR MENTAL PROJECTION and PROBLEM, NOT MINE!
With that said... REV01 of "When a body..." follows
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When a body meets a body while chugging down a rye.... sung to the old Irish (Scottish?) tune "Gin a body meet a body, Comin' through the rye"
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OK people, listen up...... there was a cop show back in the mid 70s called "Baretta" about a street wise detective who had a pet cockatoo... that is a BIRD people... NOT a wimp assed freak who wants to "share his wife" or a poor shmuck who has a knife through his heart whether he knows it or not.... anyway, the guy with the pet bird had a tag line "Don't do the crime if you can't do the time," or something similar. The point he was making was that if you did a crime, you were going to jail. Oooooooooooh I'm sooooooooooo scared!
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Janet was in High School when I moved in next door. Actually, I did NOT move in, my parents did. I was in the Navy at the time they moved, but I did come home when I got out of service. Janet was a bit over 5'6" and about 135 pounds. She had brown hair, brown eyes, perfect lips, shapely legs, a tight ass and a 36c-24-36 figure. Ok, OK... I was an ex-squid horn dog. But she was HOT!
I became her white knight a few days after getting home when she had an accident with her Dad's riding mower. The bandana she had in the back pocket of her shorts (ahhhh, her shorts...) got sucked up into the recoil starter on the engine. The engine stalled and she was sure she had broken the mower. TADADADA! In comes the gallant knight with his trusty ratchet wrench to the rescue! After removing the rope pull and unwinding the bandana from the crankshaft, I reassembled the starter, yanked the cord and voilà... good as new. Can you say, "HERO?"
I was 4 years older than Janet and had a really hard uphill battle getting her parents to accept me. Oh ya... me... Stanislaus Strangski... what? You did not just ask me if it's Polish did you?! Geeez not P.C. people... not P.C. at all... I am disappointed in all of you. Anyway, I'm a touch over 6-feet tall, 190 pounds, blonde hair and blue eyes. I was an Engineman (EN) in the Navy so I got a job at the local Caterpillar Dealer as a mechanic. Anyway... back to her folks. Her mom was OK... just a little too June Cleaver if you know what I mean. Her dad however was a real piece of work. He did everything out of the "So, you're thinking about dating my daughter" handbook... including cleaning a shotgun on the kitchen table one night when I brought Janet home.
It came to a head two years after Janet got out of HS. One night I took her out to eat at Dinosaur's Ribs and just as they brought out dessert, did the take-a-knee bit and asked her to marry me. She hopped up and down, squealing and crying at the same time but did manage to say, "Yes." When we got her home, she called her folks into the kitchen to show off her new ring. Mom was all smiles and tears. Dad shook my hand and whispered "If you ever hurt my little girl... remember I have 40 acres out here... and a shovel." I looked him back in the eye and said "If I ever hurt Janet... I will help you did the hole." With that, he smiled and hit me on the shoulder. "Good answer, boy."
The wedding was small and emotional; small because neither one of us had much in the line of family. Emotional because we had written our own vows and well let's just say, there was not a dry eye in the house by the time the Preacher said that I could kiss my bride.
Janet had gotten a job as a shipping clerk for the local warehouse of one of those big "on line catalog stores" when she got out of High School and they were now paying a bit towards her getting an Associate's Degree in bookkeeping. I was moving up at the Cat Dealer and was now one of the senior "wrench turners." We bought a small starter home, using up the last of my saved Navy pay. It was worth it though. It was in an older neighborhood just north of old downtown Raccoon City. Life was great (how many times have you heard THAT line?). No, seriously, it was. Janet and I had a home, our jobs and each other.
Then there was the fly in the ointment; isn't there always! Janet started to socialize with some of the girls from work (OK, OK... women from work). Most of them were older than Janet and I thought that was a good thing. They could be big sisters to her, if not like young aunts. What I did not realize was the age difference was such that while Janet was still "newlywed," the others were approaching the "seven-year itch" stage. Everyone out there can see where this is going. But me, at that time, was clueless and in love.
How did I get my first clue? Good question. Janet knew I was going to be working late on a Thursday, which usually meant that I would not be home until 10:30 -- 11:00. She casually told me that she was going to go over to her friend Betty's for a "girls' night in" with the group that evening. No biggy so I let it slide in one ear and out the other. OH COME ON! Any married guy who says that he LISTENS to every single thing his wife says is just plain lying. Anyway, along comes Thursday and we're working along until 6 when we take a dinner break. We're sitting around bull-shitting a bit before going back to work when in comes the Service Manager. He tells us the client who was pushing hard for the D-9 we were rebuilding had called with a change of plans so he wasn't going to pay us overtime to work on a non-rush job. Did I hear, "get the hell out of here?"
Ten minutes later I was on my way home and thirty minutes after that I was shit, showered and shaved. I hopped in my car and was driving over to Betty's. Worst case was I would sit with the girls and enjoy a visit with them. Best case was I would take Janet out for a drink and some dancing and maybe a little whoopee before bed. I was stoked!
Too bad Janet was not where she was supposed to be... at her friend Betty's house. I was walking up to Betty's front door and was sorta wondering why the lights were off at only 7:30 at night and where were all the girls' cars? I rang the bell and an obviously just woke up Betty answered the door after the fourth ring. Betty was looking at me like, "What the fuck are you doing here?" and I was looking at her like, "What the fuck is going on here, where is Janet?" After explaining to her why I was there, she looked sorta shook up and fumbled around before saying that her shift at work got changed at the last minute so Janet and the others decided to go for a quiet drink rather than simply cancel the night. She told me the name of where they were and said good night as she closed the door. I have to admit that she did not look happy. I knew the bar and it was way on the other side of town. It seemed strange that Janet and her friends would pick a spot way over there when there were a couple of nicer places just around the corner from Betty's.
So anyway, I drove over to the bar and found Janet with only two other friends sitting quietly at table by themselves. They were chatting away about nothing. Everything looked OK except for a few things. First Janet and the girls did not seem awfully surprised to see me there. Yes, they acted it, but their faces looked more relieved than "Wow, what are you doing here?" Second, although they were sitting at a single table, there were only three chairs there but at the table next to them where five chairs; almost like they had separated the tables real quick and forgot to reset the chairs correctly. And finally, the biggest thing that got my radar up and running was that Janet was NOT wearing makeup. The other two were made up nicely, not too slutty, but more than a bit of mascara and lip gloss. Janet, however was not wearing anything. In fact, her face looked freshly scrubbed! Now you single guys are saying so what, but any married man will tell you that when a wife goes out with her girl posse, they all wear the war paint. It is not really a competition but it is. They all look at each other and make judgements and then later, when they meet the next time, savage whoever isn't there. It's a girl thing but I have NEVER known Janet to go out without something on. This whole thing looked like a quickly staged event. Almost like Betty had sent me to a place that was far enough away that during my drive time, she could call and warn Janet. Janet could then get cleaned up and get the stage set for my appearance. Yup that's my role in this piece... the dumb, clueless husband.
Ok, I know all of you out there can see where this is going, but at the time, I was blinded by love. Janet continued to fulfil the role of a good wife; the house was spick and span, yummy food on the table and outstanding sex in bed... and in the kitchen... and in the living room. Ok, you get the picture here. Paradise! Right?