The sun beamed down from a
cloudless Florida sky and seemed as if it targeted Hal specifically.
His
brow began to bead with sweat as he clopped his way down his driveway
to grab the daily
newspaper
drop off and the mail. He sat on his front porch daily, waiting on
the USPS workers arrival
and
departure. He’d been doing this same routine for well over a
decade, spanning several
variations
postmen,
and even one circled back to his route. He could taste last nights
regrets on his breath as he
bent
down to pick up the paper first and then next to his flamingo themed
mailbox. It wasn’t over the
top
like his neighbors. Nothing too flashy, just a flamingo wing that
moved from the up position when
the
mail was delivered and down when it was retrieved. Simple, fitting,
effective.
Strolling
his way back up the driveway and past his brand new ‘86 Chevy
Celebrity, which
prompted
a small love tap on the front end as he approached his front steps.
Outside was his blushing
bride,
Sasha. In every sense of the phrase, she was ‘living the dream,’
never worked a day in her life,
never
had to ask for a thing, and was given a weekly allowance of $700. He
tossed the newspaper on
the
round glass table that
complimented the porch superbly. One thing Hal would always encourage
Sasha
to do since they had first met was to embrace her stylish soul. She
could walk into a thrift shop
with
$20 and walk out looking like Princess Diana. It just clicked with
her, she just got it. He hadn’t
gotten
to the point where he was comfortable with her styling him, but he
felt it wasn’t too far off. It
was
still the 80’s after all. He had to hang on to one semblance of his
masculinity.
With
that being said, he was just as much in the lane of living the dream
as she was. Twelve
years
her elder was only the beginning of a
long list of how she’d make
him feel like a winner in life.
The
way she’d listen intently to things he was passionate about, even
if she didn’t have an interest in
was
only second to her looks. Admittedly, this was a vain way to live but
he didn’t care how others
seen
it. That didn’t matter. What did matter was how he saw things and
how she took them and they
never
antagonized an argument one between them. He always assumed they
operated under an
unspoken
agreement. He provided the life and she provided the leisure.
Truthfully, calling what she
brought
into his life ‘leisure’ was an unfair assessment. It was more
than just that, she brought style,
fun
and adventure. Her innocence
was unmatched to him and honestly was cute. Her lack of
understanding
of how the world worked was a given, she lived life on easy mode the
whole time. He
may
have been the only one in her life to not fault her for it.
Who
would expect a blonde bombshell such as Sasha to understand the inner
workings of the
US
financial system or credit debt? She was raised in privilege, closets
packed to the doors with
Versace
and Ralph Lauren. First names and last names were her thing and she’d
never even had a
thought
about anything else touching her skin. The
palm trees that reached for the sun and hung their
leaves
like heads of children in detention above them provided enough shade
for it to actually feel
cool
for a second. The gulf wind didn’t hurt either.
Reaching
for a handkerchief from his back pocket to dot his head, he watched
as Sasha spun
the
headline of the paper into reading view. She picked it up and placed
it on the lap of her white
dress
and read the leading story of the day to her husband.
“Ooh!
The Challenger is launching this
evening, do you wanna go?!” It was that kind of
excitement
and adventure that she made a staple of his life for the last three
years that further
cemented
the idea that he had made the correct decision with her. It was a
long standing belief of his
that
people put more thought into their next job rather the person they’d
be spending the rest of their
lives
with. Strangers and colleagues alike would never buy the idea that he
put more thought into it
than,
‘wow she is stunning and wants to be with me,’ but he truly did.
He took every aspect of her into
consideration
and at the end of it all, decided that she was worth the headaches
that came along with
her.
Granted, they were minimal at worst, but still a headache
nonetheless. Overspending wasn’t as
much
of an issue when you were upper class, especially in July
of 1986. That
was her only real crime
against
him, if it could even be classified as such.
“Yeah,
we could. We missed it last time. Maybe we can go see it land down
too, how’s that
sound?
I think it’s due back in a week or so. Something like that.”
Sasha’s
face lit up, which was Hal’s favorite thing in the world and it
wasn’t close. Her blonde
bangs
danced around her small forehead from a combination of her excitement
and the swift breeze
entering
from the open end of their patio. It was more
of a villa than a full out home, but it worked for
where
they were in life. He was
only in his mid 30’s, 34 to be exact and had already lapped nearly
all
of
his friends and colleagues in contrast. Just as everything else in
this world, there were two sides to
a
story, and sometimes three. Every marriage had it’s secrets and
this one was no different. Behind
the
facade of a happy wife who detested nearly everything about the man
who stood in front of her.
His
aging face was no longer cute to her. His thinning hair and even
worse hairline wasn’t even
the
main
reason she fell out of love of with him. It was more about him not
allowing her to be her own
woman.
Sure,
he let her buy what she wanted and handle all of the housework in
which she no doubt
found
solace in, but it was not the life she anticipated when she first
moved in at 19. All of the things
that
Hal thought Sasha enjoyed and appreciated about him actually
disgusted her, and she was tired
of
acting like they didn’t. His undying need of control, which she
didn’t even think he was self aware
enough
to notice, was gripping her throat like a noose. Each day felt like
her she was inching the stool
a
bit further away from her. His drinking had gotten worse, which she
could not fathom how he didn’t
notice.
Maybe he didn’t want to. Laying next to him was a chore, smelling
that rotten whiskey on his
breath
nightly.
She
was young and cared about her body. She didn’t treat hers like a
temple or anything of the
sort,
but she tried to make conscious decisions about what she put into it.
Except the cigarettes, but
who
wasn’t smoking those in the 80s? The entire country was like an
airport bar. Even if you weren’t a
smoker,
you were by default. Just hanging out with your friends would make
you part of the club for
the
night, whether you wanted to
take the oath or not. One thing Hal taught her that she’d never
forget
as long as she lived was to never to take action without a plan. He
had a whole outline before
he
proposed to her. She didn’t have one when she said, ‘yes,’ but
she had one now, when she had
finally
said, ‘no more.’
A
plan was required to get out of it as she never felt comfortable
enough to talk to him about it
one
on one. It wasn’t that the relationship itself was abusive, but she
knew just how much he fancied
her
and didn’t want to break him. Killing him would be easier on her
long term. Besides, it wasn’t like
she’d
be the one pulling the trigger. That’s the role her new boyfriend
assumed when he got involved
with
this whole mess of a situation. She knew that he wouldn’t turn down
her puppy dog eyes and
girlish
excitement. Anything she suggested he was game for and today was no
different.
Hal
nodded at her as he stepped inside. She heard ruffling around and the
sounds of various
items
being tossed around. She sat on the porch for a minute or so,
allowing her to feel the wave of
sadness
and despair she’d have to act out later this evening. She wanted to
do something special for
him
before he was tossed into the ocean to be a hearty meal for some
hungry shark down there, or
whatever
else may be lurking. She took a deep breath and went over the plan
once more in her head.
They’d
get to the beach and watch the shuttle take off, she’d seduce him
(which she was batting a
thousand
at,) Alan would pull up, do the deed and they’d run off with the
money and live happily
ever
after. She was too inexperienced in the real world to realize that
the odds of them both pulling
this
off was negative zero, but she had love and faith to guide her.
She
rose to her feet and swung the door open and watched as her husband
was holding a
photograph
of Hal and his mom from when he was 7 years old. She
slowly sat next to him and put his
arm
on his shoulder and said softly, “oh honey, you’ll see her again
some day.” Hal knew she meant it
in
a warm way, and ultimately she was right. One day he would reunite
with his dear mother and it
would
be forever. He hugged his wife and wiped a tear from running down his
face, apologizing for his
moment
of weakness in front of her. She knew exactly what was going through
his mind, “not very
manly
of you, Hal.” She hugged him back and told him to go start the car
and telling him that she’d
get
the rest of the things together. The least she could do is offer up
some grace in what would prove
to
be one of their final meaningful moments together.
He
did as instructed and stepped out the door carrying a suitcase and
picnic basket. She took
one
last look at the place she ever called her own, taking it all in. The
floral greens on the walls
accented
the white tables spread throughout the house. She walked down the
short hallway and
dialed
Alan’s number, giving him the same instructions she gave Hal. She
had two grown men wrapped
around
her finger and she knew it. It was exhilarating, to be honest. She
stepped into their bedroom
and
grabbed a couple of blankets and walked out the door, approaching his
prized possession, the
1986
Chevy Celebrity.
She
swung the passenger door open, tossing the blankets in the back seat
and slammed the
door
shut and towards a future she was certain of. The car started without
a hitch, and down the road
they
went. Only one of them knew the other wasn’t making the drive back,
and he was absolutely
clueless
about it. Just as she intended.
