AND LOTS OF SUNSHINE!
When Cleo opened the door to the principal’s office, we both found something that we did not expect.
But before I get into that, I had better explain something. First of all, the building was very dim. Second of all, we got the call at 6:00. I didn’t want to tell Cleo, but I had just remembered that I had set the clock to wake me up at six, and completely forgot. That could very well be the reason why this very thing happened. I was also very curious as to why the building was open at this hour. (It was nearly eight, by the time we got there.)
Alright, I’m beating around the bush now, and I realize that. It’s just a little hard to have to see what we were both about about to see.
Our children were gagged and bound to chairs inside of the principal's office. They both had guns against their heads, and those weapons were being held by two burly looking fellows. Of course, they underestimated these children. Upon seeing her mother, Holly went into a frenzy. One of the men lost control of his gun, as she knocked it out of his hand with her frantic shaking.
“Shit!” He hollered.
Cleo ran into him, and gave him a nice hard wallop with her fist. She lifted him up with no problems despite his size, and began shouting at him; the spit particles flying in his face.
“Cleo!” I hollered. “Yelling at the man is not going to solve anything!”
“What, Will?!” She hollered back, as if I’d rudely interrupted her.
“There’s a gun at your back!” I hollered.
“They’re touting blanks!” She hollered back, and threw the man against the wall.
“Please….” He moaned. “I’m only here because I was told to be. This was my selected job today.”
“Do what?” I asked. “Your selected job was to load guns with blanks, force a principal to tell us that our daughter is in detention, which means our son would have to follow her here...and all so that you could tie them both up, and scare the bloody piss out of them?”
Not a word was spoken from either of the men.
“Not talking, eh?” Cleo spoke in a forceful manner. “You guys have some fucking nerve, you know?”
Still, the two men remained silent.
“You know, dear…They’re awfully chatty.”
“This is no time for jokes, Will.” she said, untying Holly and removing the tape from her mouth.
“Alright, young lady - I’m going to need you to be brave, because this might hurt a little. Can you do that for mommy?”
The girl nodded. Cleo ripped the tape and hopefully not also the hide from Holly’s mouth, in the manner of a madwoman who didn’t know her own strength.
“Whoops.” she said. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
The girl covered her mouth with her hand, but gave her a thumbs up anyway.
I walked over to check the two men.
“Cleo.” I said with a new found calmness. “You know where we could hide two bodies?”
“What?” Cleo said, shocked.
“They’re no longer in this world. Cyanide caplets, both of them.” I replied soberly, opening one of the men's mouths to find that it was now filled with foam.
“By the dark mother…you’re not serious…they were human beings, Will!”
“Apparently not to them, they’re not.”
“To who, Will?” she asked, even though she was fully aware of the answer. “You don’t really mean…”
She ran into my arms like she had never done before, sobbing hysterically and holding me tight enough that I swear my breathing had almost stopped.
“What are we gonna do, Will? What in the hell are we going to do now? They’ll keep sending people out until they have us both back in their clutches!”
“Nonsense, dear.” I assured her. “We’ll fight back. We’ll let it be known that our children were held hostage, and those bastards even forced this school's staff to cooperate in their evil schemes!”
“...Probably still offering Godhood.” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “You know how no one can resist that stuff…what was it called again? BH2...That’s right. Probably got a whole stock of it.”
A cloud of fear passed over me for a moment. In that cloud of fear were images of the past, those bloodstained images which I had tried to lock into the safe of my mind, and as far as I knew - that safe was locked tight.
First it was the email, but big deal…we moved. It could’ve just been some idiot kid or some hacker that found the files of our past on the net.
Now though, it’s gone beyond what some kid or basement-ridden hacker could do. Only a secret organization could do something like this. Plus, the fact that the man said “The job that we were selected to do…” That really got me thinking. Not to mention the fact that these men offed themselves like bloody assassins.
“Can you load them up in the trunk, Cleo?” I asked. “You’re bigger than I am.”
She sighed. “Yeah, I guess.” she said, as she freed Michael. I could only assume that the hide on his lips remained unscathed, but instead I figured that the boy was tough, like me.
Perhaps the children's lips will one day grow back.
“Come on kids, follow your father out to the car.” I said. “Mommy has to take care of some things in there.”
They both followed without question. The poor things were shaking like leaves, and I felt bad for them. I assumed some ice cream was in order, but Cleo might disapprove. Oh well, to hell with her approval!
It’s not like they need to start eating healthy now, right? Plus, it might be the best thing for their lip-less mouths, as my wife may have ripped them right off by accident.
A few minutes later, I heard two loud thumps as the dead bodies were being lowered into the trunk. A few minutes after that, I heard the trunk door slam. Not even a struggle. It should frighten me that she can load a body into a car with no trouble, but…I didn't seem to be awfully worried about it.
Cleo walked over to the passenger side door, and opened it.
“You’re driving this time.” she said, handing me the keys from her purse.
“Alright. To the ice cream parlor!” I shouted.
“I understand why you think the children may need to be rewarded…”
“…For surviving death!” I interrupted.
“…for surviving death…but we have two dead men in the back of our trunk.”
“What are you worried about, hun? We didn’t kill em.” I laughed.
“My prints are on them, Will. Plus, if we don’t get rid of them soon, they’ll smell.” she replied, making a valid point that I didn’t want to hear at the moment, even though it was true.
“Fine.” I said. “Where should we dump them? This is LA, not bloody Okeenuk. There’s not necessarily a lot of woods here.”
“I know a place, Will!” She sparked up. “Just go down this street.”
“But that’s the alleyway.” I said. “You mean, you just want to throw them into the alleyway?”
“That’s the plan, Will. Then the cops can do with them what they want.” She seemed to have a good feeling about this. I didn’t want to go into the alleyway of Los Angeles at night. Not even if my wife was a female bodybuilder. She’s got muscles, not a bulletproof vest.
“Alright.” I said. “But let’s be quick. There’s nothing but deviants out there.”
“I bloody well know that, William.” she said.
“I’m glad you do.” I sighed.
“I’m glad you do.”
It wasn’t really a place that I was keen to drive my children to, but we went into the downtown area of LA, complete with it's bums, coke-heads, alcoholics, and dirty alleyways. Most of these intertwined with each other in a cesspool of depravity. Most people tended to stray from these areas, and we were in fact going right into them, complete with two dead bodies in tow. (Which we didn’t actually kill - remember that.)
“We’re here.” I said, regrettably. “Hurry up and get them out of this car, Cleo. I’d like to get the hell out of this hovel as soon as bloody freaking possible.”
“Alright, I’ll hurry.” she replied, almost with a scowl.
A few minutes later, Cleo took the bodies out of the trunk and dumped them both into a large dumpster that was in the back alley of some restaurant which I would never be caught dead in. She then walked back to the car, and brushed her hands against each other.
“Well…That’s that, honey.” she said, both relived and paranoid.
“That’s good to know.” I said, my foot pressed firmly on the gas. I was even ready to leave her there if it came to thugs attempting to harm myself, or my children. That’s what being a good father was…I supposed. Cleo wouldn’t have liked it much, but it was her idea in the first place.
“Alright, Will. Let’s get the hell out of this rancid place.” Cleo said, locking the door tightly.
“I don’t think the gangs have arrived quite yet.” I said.
“The restaurant owner will probably just think that those men were casualties of a drug deal gone bad, or some sort of gang war. Goes on all the time around here, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, or he’ll probably chop them up and they’ll be burger meat.” I replied.
“William! Those were human beings!” Cleo screeched.
“Not anymore they’re not.” I said, turning into another lane. “Now they’re nothing more than steaks and patties.”
“Wha…So you don’t think that they have souls!?” She hollered in shock of my response.
“Well…I don’t know what I believe anymore.” I said. “I hope that the hell thing was really a ploy by the Catholic church, because I don’t feel that those fellows need to burn for doing something that they were enslaved to do. That’s the problem I’ve had with religion, love. It just doesn’t add up morally.”
“Hey, jackass! Get on your side of the road!” I hollered at some guy who was swerving about the road like he was in some kind of bumper car.
“It’s like this, Cleo.” I resumed. “Have you looked at history before Christianity? There have been men, and women that have lived perfectly moral lives without the use of a big black book that’s frankly too long, and too boring to fucking read. I have no concern as to what Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, and Jehoshaphat had to say in regards of how to act.” I finished, stating my case as fully as I understood it.
“Well, I’m Pagan, so I don’t care if you read the Bible or not.” Cleo replied.
“You’re not much better, you know. Pagans have no morals. It’s just kill and fuck - the things that revert us back to caveman era devolution.” I replied.
“That’s not true at all, Will!” She hollered. “Have you even studied my faith!?”
“Of course, Cleo.” I replied. “You and I both know that your goddess Lilith prefers bloodletting. How many small animals have you sacrificed to her in wisdom?”
“William, That’s the old ways!” She hollered even louder this time. “It’s now incense and herbs that are burned as offerings!”
“How convenient.” I replied. “After Christianity came forth and muddled the concepts of true Paganism with their own morals, creating Wicca…”
“Take that back!” Cleo screamed, and threw her arms up in the air.
Look, Cleo.” I said, trying to resume the peace. “I don’t care what you believe in. All that matters to me, is that you have something to live for. Some sort of final reward.”
“Well, what about you?” Cleo asked me, her voice calming.
“I’m about to the decision that there’s more out there in the world than what could be found on this planet. I’m looking for the truth.”
“Ha ha, Will.” She laughed. “You’ll never find it, love.”
Probably not, Cleo. But what I will find is peace, and for me - that’s good enough. I’ve seen it, I’ve experienced it, and I wish that I could be ejected from this hovel of a world; and finally move on to a realm where I can rest. Through all of this pain and hassle, I’ve found that there’s only one thing I can say for sure that I truly want out of life…Death.
When we finally all got back home, we were all beyond tired. The children went right to sleep, and we assumed that they slept in their clothes, or just threw them on the ground and turned the fan on high. I’m just waiting for the day when Michael comes in and complains that Holly’s turned the fan up to bloody freezing and he can’t sleep.
That woman must want to live in an igloo. I can surely send her that way if that’s what she wishes. It’s better than dealing with these fake detentions - actual kidnapping deals, where the guys bite down on cyanide caplets and kill themselves before you can even get a reason out of them. I’ve already had enough of that shit, frankly.
I sat up for a while longer and watched…hell, I don’t know what it was. Some late night talk show. Bogart Jamiro (a rather well known basketball player) was on there talking about the future of basketball. They already had a hoop that flies around now, so what else did they need?
“Will, I’m about to crash here on the couch.” she said, eyes as heavy as the weights that she lifts.
“I don’t think I can make it another five minutes. Come on, let’s go to bed. There’s nothing good on the telly anyway, right love?”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” I said, turning off the television.
“There’s a good boy.” she said. “Don’t think about any sex tonight…I’m actually going to use the old wives excuse this time and say that I’m too tired…of course it’s not an excuse, I’m bloody tired. I’ve got to train for the competition next week though, and I might need an orgasm or two to get a good cool down after my workout.” she said, almost in a mumble.
“Won’t you be all sweaty?” I asked.
“I’m gonna shower, Will.” she replied.
“Won’t that beat the purpose entirely?” I asked again, wondering how she would need a cool down after a shower.”
“I lift in the shower sometimes…water weight and all.”
“Won’t you sweat in the shower?” I asked, completely wondering how all of this works.
“The water should wash the sweat right off me, or the soap. Purpose of a shower was to get clean, last time I checked. But being a bodybuilder, I thought it might be good to use that water weight as an advantage.”
“Won’t you slip?” I thought I was stating the obvious now.
“Haven’t yet!” She laughed, even though she was getting groggier and it almost sounded like she was drunk. “I’ve got to keep a good footing. Leg strength helps, you know.”
“You know, dear…we forgot all about the ice cream parlor.” I replied.
“If I want to fill my children with bloody sugar, I’ll pour a bag of it into a cup and tell them to bloody drink it. It’s the same damned thing as eating those high priced dessert things. You know what I have for dessert? A chocolate grain bar. Always liked the taste of chocolate, even when you almost poisoned me those years ago with that damned breakfast you made me.”
“That bad, huh?” I asked.
“Enough chocolate to choke a bull elephant.” she replied.
“Now, enough of this.” She yawned. “I’m…going…to…bed…”
Now it’s nights like these, that make me glad to be married. It’s nights like these where she just throws everything off and jumps in the bed. As do I.
Did we have sex that night? Of course not! We laid together in the beginning holding our naked bodies, but then it got too damn hot and we wound up fully tired, and lying back to back. Weird how that happens…like some “Baby Prevention Fairy” comes by in the middle of the night, to make sure I’m not facing the wrong way in the case that I should have a dream which would give me some sort of erection, and possibly more which could accidentally impregnate my wife and give us another child; which I would have to name “3” because I've already run out of good names for the things.
Hey, you never know. It might catch on. Then one of the movie stars names his child 310, and another 540...you start having rockers with names like 666, and all sorts of other crazy shit. Hmm…I wonder if it is legal to add a few numbers to my name. William 834-5 would make me sound like some sort of robot. That would be interesting in itself, I imagine.
Or maybe not…perhaps I should just continue on with things the way they are, as Cleo begins to really pump the iron in order to win the title at her competition.
It’s different, sure - but she’s my wife, and I love her…and it’s kind of kinky, and fun…especially after they shower. Uber Holly never did shower, and that’s why I was so horrified by her - but here is my wife trying to become just like her, in some odd irony I can’t even bring myself to understand. Yet, I find it all kind of sexy somehow. Perhaps power is beautiful after all.