Sunday, April 27, 2014
All the Nuts aren’t with The Pancake’s Part 19
I take a step back from the chair. Chris’ snoring is steady. I stand there for about five minutes. I am completely still. “Anything Chris?” a voice inside my heads asks. “If you stir, I will stop”.
I watch as his chest rises and falls, he is out cold. It is clear that I have enough time to work out a plan before George gets home. Unfortunately, for me, Georges morning shift is new. New to me, new to Chris and new to George, I have no idea when he will arrive.
I rarely see Bill anymore. “Does he even live here?” The only time I see him is when he clomps through house, like a loud ghost. You can here him coming; he appears, complains, blows out a puff of cigarette smoke and stomps on, not to be seen again for days or hours. Even though it’s a brief moment in my day, Bill brings a smile to my lips and a chuckle to my heart.
Standing there watching Chris, I think, “How sweet,” I bet Chris was waiting to stay up for George to return home when he got drunk and passed out. Or maybe he was in the chair since last night drunk and passed out. Anyhow, my times running out,
I take three steps backwards, turn and walk straight to the liquor cabinet. The dogs begin to whine and cry. “Don’t worry babies, I’ll be back.”/I say in a soothing voice.
I begin to walk quickly through the house pouring random alcohol from various bottles on counters, tabletops and carpeting. Anywhere a stupid drunk might spill. When the bottle is empty, I leave it tipped over at the scene of my crime.
I walk to the basement, a dribble of booze here, a splash of booze there. I mimic the walk of a drunk, everywhere I lean or lurch, I let the bottle splash. Bill was right, there is a nastier queen living here. One that is nastier than Chris. One who is now going to seek revenge.
I am looking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I knew that someone in this situation would snap. I just never thought it would be me.
I leave an empty bottle by the toilet.
On my way back upstairs, I turn on every single light switch. I even walk out and turn the pump on in the pool and turn on the deck lights. Kitchen, dining room and all the hallway lights get turned on as I walk by.
“I’ll be right back.” I whisper to the dogs. I place two fingers through the slats in their cage. They all bound around trying to lick my fingers.
I pause one last time by Chris’ chair. He is still sound asleep.
I pull out my lighter, placing a cigarette in my mouth, I turn and walk out the front door.
To be continued…
Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life/Down the Rabbit Hole". It cannot be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.