Chapter 4

We kind of agreed to circle the wagons that first night. I wanted to strangle Sarah. I wanted to tie her to a chair and cut off her body parts and feed them to her piece by piece. I conjured up all kinds of ways to make her pay for what she’d done. I kept those thoughts to myself though.

I had three little girls, and they were very important to me. It wasn’t that cold out, but I brought in some chunks of firewood and started a fire in the old fireplace. The five of us all sat around it. Sarah, Emily, and I toasted marshmallows and made s’mores for the younger ones. Emma complained that she was old enough to toast too so I wrapped her in my arms and held the fork while she toasted. Emma was special. They were all three special. There’d been another one; she would have been special too. I thought about the one we lost sometimes.

Sarah got out her copy of the “Children’s Bible” and we read Bible stories. Emily wanted to hear her mom read the story of Ruth; I thought that had to have gotten her, the ‘whither thou goest’ thing sounded hollow coming from Sarah. We sang songs like “Jesus Loves Me”, and “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands.” Around 8:30 Sarah and I took the girls upstairs, we gave them their baths, we said our prayers, we prayed for grandmom and granddad that they’d have a safe trip to Heaven, we kissed them good night, and then Sarah and I went downstairs.

Emily, because she was the oldest had a room of her own, but she insisted we leave her door open, and we kept a small hall light on just in case. I was a paramedic and I’d read where sometimes, rarely really, a kid would get confused in a dark hallway and fall down the stairs. Sarah and I always slept with our door open too, just in case. Emma and Elizabeth still shared a room, but we had an extra for when Elizabeth would be old enough. We still kept side bars on the bed Emma and Elizabeth slept in just in case one rolled too far.

The girls; they all looked alike. They all had the same thick brown hair and green eyes as their mom. They all had that same heart shaped look with pert little noses, and vivid happy smiles. They looked delicate, like little angels.

Sarah has always been so careful with them. Oh sure they were spoiled, but who cared. Sarah had a habit of dressing them all up to look alike; then she’d put on the very same outfit. It’s hard to imagine going to church with four girls all decked out in green dresses, white socks, and saddle shoes. Hair all done up the same way with barrettes and ribbons.

They were so beautiful; it was like having three little Sarah’s. I was the king of the house! They were mine. They had to be mine. Of course they were mine.

When we got downstairs I took my place in my lazy boy. Sarah came over and knelt at my feet. Any other time this would have been the prelude to a wonderful evening. In fact just twenty-four hours earlier we’d been in bed cuddling and whispering endearments to each other. We’d been quiet and careful not to awaken the girls. Sarah liked to do it side by side sometimes. I’d slide in, and she’d ... well; it all seemed so phony now.

Sarah looked up at me, “Bass can I explain?”

I looked at her. I felt empty, defeated; it was like all the life was drained out of me, “Sarah there’s nothing to explain. I just want to go to sleep.”

My headache didn’t seem quite so bad, but I knew the symptoms, and I knew I dare not take anything until I was more certain. I told her, “I’m staying here till a few days after the funeral. I’ll sleep down here, but after that I’m moving to mom and dads. I’ll come back in the evenings to be with my girls, but I want you to know it’s for them, not you. You know I’m the executor mom and dad’s estate. Rath won’t like it, but I intend to take my time. I have the comp time so I plan on taking a brief leave of absence until my head clears.” Of course the ‘comp time’ thing was a joke. Everybody had ‘comp time’. Nobody ever used it.

Sarah was holding my knees, “Bass won’t you let me say anything?”

I shrugged, “Sarah the only reason I’m still alive and here right now is because of those little girls upstairs. Beyond them I just don’t care. Maybe in a few months I’ll feel differently, but don’t count on it.”

“Bass,” she murmured, I could tell she was on the verge of more tears, “I need you. I love you. It was ... a ... oh Bass...”

I interrupted her, “Sarah go upstairs and go to bed.”

She squeezed my legs very tightly. I hated her. I hated what she’d done. The pain and the anger were fire new, but even so, in spite of my anger I wanted so much to hold her, to comfort her. She’d loved my mom and dad. I knew she was sad. I knew she was suffering. It wasn’t enough. She held on for a while, but then she got up, she looked at me and held out her hand, “Please come to bed with me?”

I grimaced, “Not a chance, not a chance in hell.”

She reiterated, “Please?”

I took a deep breath, “What? Rath wasn’t enough for you today?”

She sobbed once and ran upstairs.

The Day After:

I got up my usual time. I called Lawton my supervisor and asked him for some time off. We discussed my situation, and he agreed since no one else had asked for anything and no vacations were planned they’d have no trouble covering for about a week. After that he said we’d have to work something out; maybe sick time, a formal leave of absence, something. Then I waited around until Sarah got up with the kids.

Sarah came down first, but I knew the rest would follow. Sarah looked like she hadn’t slept very well. I told her, “I’ve taken a week off. I’m going to call and see Rath and probably Beatrice sometime today. It’s up to you, but I’d like it if you decided to hang around the house. You decide whether to keep the kids home or send them on to school.”

She timidly asked, “What should I decide ... about the girls I mean?”

“What do you think,” I replied.

“Can I keep them home with me?”

“Do what you want,” then I thought about it, “Yeah, keep them home and quiet. I’ll call later when I can. We’ll go someplace.”

I watched Sarah fidget about. She fiddled with her coffee cup, “If you go someplace with the girls, can I come too?”

I was surprised by that, “See here Sarah. They know nothing about our problems. I’d like to keep it that way as long as we can.”

Emma and Emily had come down. I walked over to Sarah, “Kiss goodbye.” She was pleased by that. Then I slipped over and kissed Emily and Emma. I looked back at Sarah, “Better get Elizabeth.”

Sarah brushed back a tear, and then of all things she curtsied, “Yes sir.”

I stepped out, got in my car, started it up, but before I pulled away I used my cell to call Rath. Surprise! Surprise! He was up and about. He answered on the second intonation, “Yeah?”

“Rath, meet me at mom and dad’s in an hour.”

He growled, “You want to talk to my wife?”

I replied, “Not yet, probably later.” He hung up; then I hung up and took off for my parents.

Once I got there I found the chest, opened it, and discovered a huge heap of papers. I didn’t know what was there, but I sure knew Rath wasn’t seeing any of it; not till I went through it first. So I found an old cardboard box and stuffed it with dad’s old junk. I figured it was just that, junk.

Good thing I didn’t waste any time. Rath pulled up just as I was shoving the cardboard box in a closet. I went to the door and let him in.

He glared at me, “My key doesn’t work.”

“I changed the locks yesterday.”

“Trusting fellow,” he mumbled, “Where’s my memorabilia?”

I handed him the old watch and the shotgun. I pointed to the sea chest. He pocketed the watch, dropped the gun under his arm and started to lift the chest. My guess was he didn’t plan on staying. I had to try and stop him, “Rath you got a minute?”

He sat the chest down, “What for?”

“We’re brothers. Mom and dad just died. Can’t we at least say something?”

He came and sat down beside me, “All right I’ll admit it losing them both; hell losing them at all breaks my heart. They were our parents. We could have done a lot worse, but don’t expect a lot of tears. I’m all cried out. Besides I’ve got an idea you’ve got plans for me.”

I put my hand on his knee. He didn’t back away, “First mom and dad picked me to be executor because of all your problems since you got back from the service. Dad told me about the PTSD, and what all you went through. He made me promise to be absolutely fair and I will. About you and Beatrice...”

He interrupted me, “I told her last night. She said she wouldn’t leave me.”

Jesus I don’t know why, but I was glad to hear that. I asked, “Can you tell me something about ... well... ?”

He shrugged; no I’d say he slumped, “Not much to tell really. I wish I could sugar coat it, but I can’t. I told you I wasn’t the first. Sarah’s a flirt. I don’t think she understands sometimes. Look Bass I came on to her. I started it. I played the sympathy game. I told her Beatrice was two timing me at her work. I told her Beatrice treated me bad, that it was her who didn’t want kids. I told Sarah Beatrice told me she might have kids someday; just not my kids. You know how Sarah is; a bleeding fucking heart. It was still all bullshit, but you know what else? I think Sarah wanted to anyway. I mean I could have said something like, ‘Hey let’s jump in the sack, ‘ and she would’ve said, ‘yeah sure, why not?’”

I felt sick listening to him. My stomach was tied in knots, I asked, “You said you weren’t the first.”

“Bass I don’t know how else to say it, your wife fucks around.”

I asked, “You got any names?”

He looked at the sea chest, “Vernon for one...”

I was struck dumb, “Abernathy? Vernon Abernathy?”

Rath added, “Yeah and I’m pretty sure your supervisor. What’s his name? Lawton Childs.”

I was going to have to quit my job. I felt like such a fool, “How did you find this out?”

He kept looking around the room. Before he could answer me I asked, “You’re not lying are you?”

He got right in my face, “No I’m not lying. Beatrice told me. She said she overheard it from that woman your wife works with.”

“You mean Nellie Billingsworth?”

“Yeah she was talking to someone at the last Fire Hall get together. Nellie was talking to somebody about how your wife used one of the private rooms at the Visitor Center to ‘get off’ with a couple of regulars. That’s when this woman mentioned Vernon and the guy Childs.”

I was crushed. My wife was a fucking whore, “Anybody else,” I asked?

Rath gave me a straight, and I thought an honest appraisal, “That’s all I know. Look Bass I just said what I did about your girls to hurt. I’m sure they’re yours. And Sarah, I think she’s sick. I mean in the head sick. I don’t want to make this worse for you, but us doing it was like nothing. I mean it was more about the talking. Sure we fucked, but we could’ve been having a coffee and eating donuts. It was that ‘matter of fact’. You want to know what we talked about?”

I didn’t, but still, “No what did you and my wife talk about while you two were fucking?”

“Well while we fucked nothing, but before and after I made up shit about Beatrice, but I don’t think she heard me. Then when she talked all she wanted to talk about was you. Christ it didn’t make any sense. That was when I figured she was fucked up. I mean there she was betraying you in the worst way while she was bragging about how great a dad and husband you were. Bass the woman needs help.”

I was fed up, “So you’re telling me I should help Sarah get counseling because she’s been fucking everybody within a twenty mile radius for the past eight years of our marriage.”

He shook his head, “I didn’t say that. I said she’s fucked up. I didn’t say it’s been eight years either. I don’t know how long it’s been, but not eight years. There was a guy who stopped in at my work. He said some things. I don’t remember what.”

I was numb; a guy at his work? My head was starting to hurt again, “Well thanks Rath,” but I thought, ‘Yeah thanks for nothing.’

He asked, “What are you going to do about the house?”

Shit, the bastard’s a mercenary son-of-a-bitch, “I’ll let you know.”

He took the gun, the watch, and the chest and left, and he left me with more trouble than before. Now I had fellow employees and my boss fucking my wife. I could get them. We had morals regulations. Of course, I’d have to prove everything, and the more I worked at that the worse it would be for me and my kids. I had to do some digging. I sat there in my dad’s chair and wondered why I didn’t feel something. Shouldn’t I be crying or something? Shouldn’t I be all pissed off and figuring out how to kill my wife and my ‘so called’ colleagues? I just didn’t feel anything. For two cents I thought I might as well just get in my car and drive away. That didn’t last; I had children. I could never leave them. I was their dad. No matter what; I was their dad.