Afternoon Plans Have Changed

Dick was elated when he dropped off his daughter, little Nell at a birthday party, it had been a while since he felt comfortable leaving her someplace. Now he had a child-free Saturday afternoon filled with endless possibilities. Maybe some woodworking in the shed, maybe the latest John Grisham novel, but the thought of a cup of tea and a soccer game appealed to him the most.  

           Dick unlocked both locks on the front door, then put the code in to turn off the alarm. As he walked through the living room and into the kitchen, he had an eerie feeling like someone else had been inside the house. He stopped and listened. The air conditioner turned on. Dick caught his breath and then laughed. Nothing was out of place. It was just a sensation. Dick wondered if memories were like ghosts and returned to haunt you when life was going well.

           He shook off this fearsome notion and gathered his cup, saucer, and the wooden box that contained his tea collection. Dick turned on the water, filled a kettle, and put it on to boil. Dick’s mom was English and although his ex-wife never joined him, Dick felt comfort in an afternoon cup of tea accompanied by a few cookies.

 He opened the pantry, hoping to find something sweet. A box of crackers that was brand new was open and on a different shelf. Dick picked it up. He shrugged his shoulders. Nell must have gotten into them. He glanced around the kitchen and walked back through the dining room taking in the details of his surroundings. Again, nothing was out of place, except the crackers. Crackers. “Maybe I’m going crackers,” thought Dick and chuckled at his own joke.

No. That disquieting feeling was still there. He told himself, “the alarm had been on and no one had a key to his house, not even a neighbor or a friend.” He hadn’t felt this uneasy since his ex-wife had been sent to a mental institution six months ago for attempted murder.

            Dick settled himself on the couch and thought, “the house is so quiet without little Nell, so silent and empty”, Dick had the urge to turn the volume higher on the soccer game to shatter the silence.

The match was interrupted by a breaking news story. The scene was chaotic with a large building ablaze, firefighters, and shadows of people gathering in groups. The reporter stated, “part of the sanitarium had to be evacuated an hour ago when the fire could not be put out by hand-held extinguishers. There is no information yet on how the fire started. After a head count, hospital management claims three people are missing, two inmates and one staff member.”

           Dick’s eyes focused on the words zipping across the bottom of the screen, he read “Apple Park Sanitarium, names of missing people withheld.” Dick jumped up like he’d been stuck with a pin. His mouth went dry, his pulse throbbed in his veins and his breath was coming in short bursts. He reached out to the arm of the couch to steady himself and closed his eyes. He did not need to see the identities of the missing people. He was positive that one of them was his ex-wife Jane.

Dick froze. Cold terror was seeping its way into his chest. He wanted to jump into action but his thoughts were jumbled with what to do first.

Dick took a slow breath. “Keep calm,” he told himself. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was a coincidence. He decided to secure the house first, then go pick up Nell, and call the police. Was he overreacting? No, he knew from past experience that it was better to err on the side of caution.

           Behind him, the door to his den squeaked open and a familiar scent filled the room. Vanilla. Dick used to enjoy Jane’s scented lotions and soaps but now the smell made him nauseous. The vanilla was fighting with the stench of smoke and ash for top billing.

           “Hello, Dickie,” Jane said. Her voice sounded like a wounded child yet still made his legs want to run. He turned to face her, straightened his back, and looked her in the eye.

           He had not seen her since the trial six months ago and it was difficult to see the changes in her appearance. Jane’s usually smooth auburn hair was frizzy and brittle. Her lips were bloodless and her eyes were flat and emotionless like a shark. The yellow hospital scrubs she was wearing washed out her complexion and there were black smudges on her hands and knees. She no longer resembled his young enchanted bride. In fact, she had changed so much that anywhere else he might not have recognized her.

           Jane’s trial had only lasted a few weeks. Four expert psychiatrists agreed that Jane was not sane enough to stand trial, because she could not differentiate between right and wrong or that breaking the law had consequences. Dick never believed the expert testimonies, after all, he had lived with her for seven years and he never questioned her sanity. He witnessed jealousy, rage, depression, and elation but never psychosis. No, Dick believed she was in full possession of all her faculties and knew what she was doing as he watched her manipulate every relationship in her life.

On the night in question, Jane had started a fight after receiving divorce papers from Dick, who was also filing for full custody of their daughter Nell. Dick blocked Jane’s punches as she screamed obscenities and threatened violence. When Jane’s punches were not getting the job done, she picked up the porcelain bride and groom statue he gave her on their wedding day and smashed it against his skull. Then she started a fire in the den using alcohol as an accelerant.

           “I said hello Dickie. It is rude to not reply,” said Jane.

           Dick cleared his throat first before speaking. “I apologize. You surprised me, I was not expecting to see you today. Certainly not in my house.”

Dick’s mind was zooming again, he could barely keep up with his own thoughts, “Is she here to kill me? What do I do? Do the cops know she’s here?”

“I am curious though, how did you get past my alarm system?”

“Oh, I picked up a few new skills in that horrid place, but I had to get out of there. It is not a very nice place to live, with no gardens, no music, and no freedom. Not like you would know since you never came to see me.”

“Well, I have been busy since you tried to kill me, which actions lead me to believe you would not want me to visit. How did you start this fire? Some poor guy's whiskey collection like your last arson adventure?”

“That was just for you my love. I had some inside help with this fire and my escape. You men can be so easily manipulated when it comes to sex. But I do not want to talk about that, I want to talk about us. Did you miss me? I missed you every hour I have been away from your side.” Jane started moving towards Dick, her eyes were dancing now like embers on a breeze.

A piercing sound erupted as the kettle announced the water was boiling. Jane glanced towards the kitchen and Dick used that moment to sprint through the dining room. He knocked over the chairs he passed. In the kitchen, he sent dishes and pans flying. Glasses shattered on the tile floor but Jane did not notice. Her focus was on Dick and nothing was going to stand in her way. She did not run, each move was deliberate and calculated, like a spider knowing its prey is trapped.

“Why do you run from me? We are destined to be together.” Her voice deepened, “if not in life, then in death.”

Through the years, Dick had never raised a hand to Jane, even with all the mental and physical abuse she had put him through. He believed a gentleman should never hit a woman, but all bets were off now. He pictured his daughter’s face and resolved to do everything in his power to survive.

Dick grabbed the tea kettle that was still hissing and swung it at Jane. She ducked with agility, bent forward, and picked up a carving knife that had fallen to the floor. Dick dropped the kettle. He turned and dashed for the back door, checking behind him to see if Jane was following. He stumbled over discarded toys in the yard and slammed into the side of his woodshed. Dick reached for the doorknob, cursing that he never installed a lock on it.

Once inside, he closed the door and pulled the cord to turn on the light, the bulb was swaying back and forth making it difficult to see. He knew he only had a moment before Jane found him.

His eyes searched his workbench. He moved tools around and dumped out drawers, desperate for anything that he could use as a weapon. Most of his tools were small for woodworking and would only be useful up close. He grabbed a few items and turned on the surge protector.

Dick heard Jane approaching the woodshed. She was singing, “This Magic Moment”, the first song they danced to at their wedding. “Hopefully”, he thought, “it will be the last song she ever sings.” Dick’s hands shook with adrenaline and trepidation as he positioned himself away from the door, ready to battle for his life.

Jane pushed the door open, arms high and wide like she was making a dramatic entrance, still holding the knife.

“Oh Dickie, stop fighting it. You still love me, I feel it. Our love cannot be extinguished. We are tied together for eternity, you and I.”

 “I don’t love you, I did once. Now I only feel sadness for the Jane that disappeared. All that remains is a psychotic bitch that no one could love.”

Jane screamed with rage. Dick balanced his weight with his knees slightly bent. He was watching Jane’s every movement, waiting for his opportunity to defend himself. Even though he was fighting for his life, he could not bring himself to make the first move. Somewhere in his heart was a small pinch of love for the woman he had chosen to spend his life with.

She lunged at him with the knife raised, spit flying from her mouth, her eyes wild like a predatory beast. The knife never reached Dick’s chest. He pivoted and brought his framing hammer down against her arm. There was a loud crunch. Jane wailed in agony. She dropped the knife and cradled her useless arm against her body. Without pausing a second, Dick swung his other hand holding a prybar, smashing it against her right temple. Jane collapsed in a heap on the sawdust-covered floor. A small groan escaped her mouth and then she was silent and still.

Dick dropped his makeshift weapons, crouched down, covered his face with his hands, and rocked back and forth. His shoulders were shaking. Guttural sobs tumbled out. His chest was filled with anguish. He had taken a life and not just any life, the mother of his child was dead by his hand. Would the scent of wood and varnish always remind him of this moment?

Jane shrieked from pain as she raised her injured arm. The sound was like nothing Dick had ever heard and would be imprinted in his brain from that moment on. She seized Dick’s hair and pulled his face close to hers. The side of her skull was splintered and bleeding, and her cheek was missing some flesh. Dick felt a pierce in his side, Jane had found the knife and stabbed his abdomen. She pulled it out and was going to strike again. She was trying to speak but no words came out, only blood dripping from her mouth.

Dick stretched his hand onto his tool bench, blindly reaching for anything when he felt the heat radiating. He took hold of his wood-burning tool and shoved it in Jane’s eye.

Jane’s good arm dropped the knife and waved in the air like it was trying to get ahold of some invisible force that would stop her pain. Her body writhed around on the floor unable to process beyond each excruciating second. Her scream, once deafening stopped short, along with her heart. The smell of burning flesh and metal forced Dick to crawl outside the woodshed. He vomited and dry heaved for minutes, till there was nothing, not even stomach acid left to bring up.

The adrenaline was still flowing in his veins and Dick felt light-headed and woozy like he had had too many tequila shooters. He pressed his hand against his wound to slow the bleeding. Bleary-eyed, he stumbled back to his house but only made it as far as the kitchen where he collapsed. The tile floor felt cool against his fevered skin.

It was over. Nell would be safe. He couldn’t fathom how he would explain how her mom died, maybe some version of the truth when Nell was older and able to handle it. At this moment, she was a child enjoying a friend’s birthday party. Just as it should be.