A Perfect Sunday Evening, Except for the Screaming and Blood

A few years ago, I crossed Fairmont Street to avoid the sun. Had I been a hardier soul and stayed on the east side of the street, I might not have met the woman of my dreams.

But I did cross the street and I met Vivian. In the fullness of time, we fell in love. We have been together five years, and each day seems better than the last.

Even today seemed perfect, except for the screaming and the blood.

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“You take the legs and I’ll get the shoulders,” Vivian said as she reached down to grab the upper part of the bound and gagged man. I did as instructed, and we tossed the writhing body in the bed of the pickup truck. It wasn’t easy because he was a fat son-of-a-bitch.

Jason Mobley, the man currently enjoying the view from the back of the truck, is as sorry a human being as we had ever come across. Without delving into the sordid details of his sins, suffice it to say that he has put more than one person in the ground and collected the insurance payout.

Vivian’s mom was one of the victims.

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I stopped the truck and slid out. Vivian and I took out the jack, a hammer, and a rope. Jason’s eyes widened at the sight of the rope, and he wriggled in terror, thinking we were going to hang him.

No, Jason, what we were going to do will be much worse.

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The first kiss did it for me. I had kissed plenty of women before, but none had the cool fire of Vivian’s lips. A subtle, searching hunger. A slight moan, a soft sigh.

I was lost in Vivian from that point on.

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Moving Jason was much easier now because we could roll him. He kicked at Vivian, but she punched him in the mouth and the kicking ceased. You had to admire a woman who could solve a problem with a punch.

I set the loop of the rope under the truck and placed the jack inside the loop. Vivian loosened the nuts on the flat tire. Now I could jack up the truck.

The flat tire was tossed into the back of the truck and the spare tire was left leaning against the bare wheel. The scenario was ready.

“Okay, Deeds, let’s get this overstuffed bastard under the wheel.”

That’s me. Deeds. Short for DeeDee. A name made for trailer park trash like me.

“Let’s take the rag out of his mouth. Maybe he has some final words before we do him in.” I may have come from a home that had wheels, but common courtesy should be observed.

Vivian grimaced at the suggestion, but complied.

“I’ll kill you! I’ll fuckin’ kill both you whores! Let me go —”

Vivian kicked him in the ribs. Apparently, Jason Mobley never heard of making one’s last words memorable.

I squatted down beside Jason. “You’re gonna have an accident while changing a flat tire. The jack is gonna slip and you’ll be pinned under the truck. The weight will crush you, but you won’t die right away.”

Jason tried to wriggle away, so Vivian kicked him in the crotch. Another effective maneuver by the love of my life.

“It’ll be slow and painful, Jason. I’m a nurse, so I know how these things go. Your chest will be crushed from the initial blow, and then from the pressure. You’ll start spitting blood, but it won’t do you any good because you’ll drown in it. The blood, I mean.”

“You gotta let me go. I have money! Lots of money. I’ll give it all to you girls —”

“We don’t want your money,” Vivian spat out.

“Wha — whaddaya want? I’ll do anything!”

Vivian stared at Jason. “I just want to see you suffer, then die. Like my mom.”

He started screaming as we pulled the rope taut. The screams could probably be heard a mile away in this still air, but no one was around to hear them.

Vivian and I jerked the rope and the jack slipped, crashing down on Jason. The screaming stopped, replaced by a grunt and followed by the gurgle of blood in his throat.

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“Well, he finally shut up,” Vivian said. She chewed on a piece of beef jerky but spat the juice out. I never understood that, but she sure looked cute while spitting. That’s true love when you think these sorts of things.

“That’s because he can’t scream anymore. His lungs are full of blood and he’s choking to death.”

“Slowly, I hope.”

“Oh yeah. He’s having a terrible time of it,” I said, glancing at the man being crushed to death. He looked pitiful and small, despite his bulk.

“Say, do you remember when we first met?” I turned to Vivian. She had just spat out a wad of beef jerky and put it in a bag. It wouldn’t do to leave DNA evidence behind. Smart woman.

“Of course. You were just standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at me. It was a little creepy but also nice. Like someone found me attractive.”

“Well, you were that. Are that. Will always be that, I think.”

Vivian cuddled up next to me and we watched Jason slowly slip away. It was terribly romantic, watching someone die while embracing your lover.

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The police department of Vanderpool, Texas, doesn’t exist, so the county sheriff and his lone deputy took charge. After an exhaustive investigation that lasted almost ten minutes, they concluded Jason Mobley suffered a fatal accident.

“He was a dumb shit anyway,” the sheriff said. “If brains was leather, he wouldn’t have enough to saddle a pissant.” And with that trenchant observation, he and the rest of the world walked away from Jason Mobley.

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Two nights later, we were in bed, tired and at peace after some serious canoodling. The scent of jasmine wafted in with the cool breeze, the curtains fluttering in the indecisive light of a waning crescent moon.

“People say that you don’t feel better after avenging a death with a death. That’s bullshit, Deeds. I feel great about it.” Vivian lit a cigarette and passed it to me. I took a long drag and handed it back, letting my hand linger on hers.

“I don’t know that I feel great about it, but I sure don’t feel bad about it.”

“I wonder if you feel different about me now.”

I turned to Vivian and stroked her cheek. Surprisingly, it had tears. Vivian wasn’t one of those girls that cried much.

The night had gone seriously quiet. Even the curtains stopped making any noise. It was if they wanted to listen in.

“I think we should move in together.”

Vivian smiled and wiped away her tears before kissing me. Like the first kiss between us, it swallowed me whole without consuming me.

“If we do that, all the people around here’ll call us lesbians.”

“Viv, we are.”

She thought about it for a moment before tamping out the cigarette.

“Okay. Your trailer house or mine?”

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You would think this was the end of the story, all wrapped up with a happy ending, right? My friends, this is just the beginning.

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Another perfect evening was slowly ambling its way towards us. Vivian, very fetching in her cutoffs and tank top, sat on a rock and chewed on beef jerky. I was a little jealous that she could look so good after ten years of living together. I was never what you’d call pretty, and the years spent toiling as a nurse were taking a toll on me.

Not to put too fine a point on it, I was looking a little like ten miles of bad road.

I was also feeling my age, which was uncomfortably close to forty. I thought of my future a lot these days. More specifically, I pondered my life as an old lady. Vivian would tell you that I do this too often, and perhaps she’s right. Her sunny disposition gives me sunburn because it never lets up.

The problem is that she’s too pretty. I see others looking at her, and I know what those looks mean. A cold dread squeezes me. A terrible thought gets in my head and stays there. A sure as sugar is sweet, Vivian will leave me one day.

Which is why I have to kill her. That’s what I tell myself, anyway.

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It isn’t easy corralling a rattlesnake. First, you have to find them, then you have to coax them into a bag without getting bitten. Then you have to feed them and keep them hidden so your victim is caught unawares. I am going to considerable lengths to kill Vivian and make it look like an accident. I hope she appreciates it.

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Sunday afternoons are hot in August around here, but it starts to cool off around seven o’clock. When the evening starts to make an appearance, the magic of the area gets serious.

This particular Sunday evening was splendid. The wind whispered through the prairie grass and tickled the leaves of the gnarled oaks. Lizards skittered here and there, looking for food or shelter or, perhaps, just a few final rays of sunshine.

I tossed my well-kept rattler in the bed of our pickup truck and induced Vivian to come out for a walk. We had our special place about three miles down the road. We would often drive there and spend hours walking over the hills and finding a good place to have a late picnic. The picnic usually ended up with us drinking too much cheap wine and getting naked. I hope we didn’t traumatize the lizards.

And now we come to it. The dastardly deed.

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Things didn’t turn out as planned.

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“I spied on you.”

Vivian’s confession wounded me. How can a person reasonably expect to commit murder when the intended victim is better at it?

She had me wrapped up in cellophane (Gladwrap, BTW) before I knew what was happening. It was a little embarrassing to be put in such a position, but even worse was the betrayal.

I should have known, though. She stopped kissing me like she used to kiss me.

“I never thought it would come to this, Viv. But you kept on getting prettier and I just got older.”

Vivian took the bag with the snake from the back of the truck and laid it down by my feet. She knelt next to me and stroked my hair. I could see the tears streaming down her face, and her chest spasmed as she tried not to sob.

“I still love you, you idiot. But I can’t let you kill me.”

I could argue the point, but I didn’t. No use. She held the upper ground – and she had the snake. I eyed the bag distastefully. Vivian saw me and understood.

“Probably not a very pleasant way to go, but it’s what you had planned for me.”

True enough.

My journey in life is over. I know that because I know Vivian. She’ll carry through with the deed, and I’ll be Just another rattlesnake victim in south central Texas. The only consolation I have is that she’s too smart to get caught. I deserve to die, but she doesn’t.

“It’ll probably hurt, Deeds. It has to be the ankle so it looks like an accident, and it’ll take a while to stop your heart. I’m sorry, sweetie.”

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It hurt like hell. This is my last bit of writing because my hands are starting to tremble. Like Jason Mobley, I don’t have any high-minded final words. I just wish the bitch hadn’t outfoxed me.

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                                                          Vivian’s Narrative

Deeds forgave me for what I had to do. I know this because we kissed one last time, right before the snakebite.

It was the same as the first time she kissed me. I can’t describe things as well as her, but when she kisses me like she means it, the feeling of her love lingers long after the lips separate.

I’m gonna miss her like hell.