Spliced: A Story of Rapture

Chapter Nine

December 1958

It was New Year’s Eve. If Lillian hadn’t been intending to murder her husband that night, she would be out dancing, drinking, and preparing to ring in the new year. That would not be happening tonight though, at least not for her, and at least not until she’d gotten her revenge.

Lillian had pretended to get ready to go out. In front of her husband, she’d set her hair, done her makeup, and sprayed herself down with her favorite perfume. She’d even had him zip up her ball gown. Then, she’d covered her eyes with her new mask and waltzed out the door to the masquerade ball at the Kasmir Restaurant.

Except she didn’t go to the Kashmir. She climbed onto the metro, walked to the back, past couples and groups of young men and ladies, all dressed in their very finest, all lovely and effervescent. A few of the other, younger, less polite riders stared pointedly at her drooping lip, which had never been quite the same after Roland froze it. She could hear them whispering, but worked hard to tune them out. It didn’t matter what they thought, or how much of a monster her husband had made her. Lillian looked at the clock mounted above her. 7:05pm.

She rode for exactly an hour and twenty minutes. Lillian knew, through scrupulous spying, that her husband intended to meet a woman from work at the Kashmir at 8:00pm. She wanted to be home after he’d left, but before he’d come back. Her plan was to lie in wait in the darkness of their bedroom, and, when he inevitably came stumbling in drunk and unaware, she’d creep up from the shadows and bash his head in with the wrench that she knew lay in the drawer of Roland’s night stand. So at exactly 8:25, when the metro came back around to her stop and she was confident that Roland had left at least 20 minutes earlier (probably more) in the bathysphere, Lillian gathered up her purse from the seat beside her and stepped out and toward home.

It was around 10:30 when Roland came home, waking Lillian from an accidental slumber. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but those hours of sitting in the dark had powered her down like a bird under a blanket. She sat crouched beside the bed, in the corner of the bedroom, slumped over, wrench beside her on the floor where it had slipped from her hand. Lillian started when she heard the door open, panicking momentarily as she struggled to recall where she was and what she was doing there. After a moment of confusion, she remembered, grabbed the wrench and composed herself.

She could hear snippets of Roland’s conversation with the young woman he’d brought home.

“…won’t be home for hours.”
“…her? No! …open marriage!”

This last assertion brought peals of appreciative laughter from the woman. “Well I’d love to meet her then!” she said, a little too loudly. Lillian had never met this woman but she could imagine what she looked like. Young, red-lipped, brash in style and mannerisms. What she had been like years ago, before she and Roland had married. A moment of grief for her lost happiness washed over her, but Lillian swallowed it quickly. That was all done now. All there was left was hate.

There were more muffled sounds from the parlour–a clink of glasses, giggles and footsteps. Every time it sounded like the sounds were growing louder, like perhaps the pair were headed for the bedroom, Lillian’s heart would quicken. Then she’s wait, breath caught in her throat, to see if they appeared in the doorway. She peered into the darkness with great concentration, trying to discern their shapes, only to give up when she heard again their movement in the parlour.

Finally, after what felt like dozens of false starts, she heard the unmistakable sound of their feet in the hallway. She gripped the wrench, prepared to hop out from behind the bed and bash her husband’s brains in. She wasn’t sure what to do about the woman. She wasn’t the one who had betrayed her. She wasn’t the one who had killed Willie. Then again, if she witnessed what happened here, she’d surely tell somebody and then Lillian would be in hot water. Lillian scrambled for a solution as Roland and the woman neared the bedroom. When she’d conceived of this plan, she’d assumed she’d just off the other woman as well, for practical reasons, but now that the prospect of murdering an innocent lay before her, she was having second thoughts. Before she’d had a chance to come up with a new plan, the pair appeared in the doorway, wine glasses in hand.

They didn’t notice Lillian, and didn’t bother to turn the light on as they tumbled onto the bed, laughing and kissing. There were twin clinks as the wine glasses were set down on the night stands. Then there was silence except for the shuffling and heavy breathing of what Lillian could only assume was foreplay. Lillian had to do something now, or this would progress to actual sex, and despite her hatred for Roland, she didn’t think she could handle witnessing that. She still did not feel comfortable with the idea of killing his companion, but could see no way around it. Regrettably, they would both have to die.

As quickly as she could muster, Lillian jumped up, wrench in hand. Her husband, predictably, was on top, his pants halfway down and his shirt unbuttoned. Roland and the woman were too drunk to notice her movement until the wrench came down on Roland’s head. The woman looked at Lillian, eyes wide, and opened her smeared-lipstick mouth in a surprised scream. Blood streamed from Roland’s head. He was still conscious, though. That one thunk hadn’t done him in as Lillian had imagined it would. He spun around as the wrench came down a second time, and it hit him in the face, breaking his nose with a slick snap. Lillian felt appalled. This was more work, and much more disturbing, than she’d imagined. All of a sudden, she wasn’t sure if she had it in her to bludgeon them both to death. But she was too far in now. She had to finish. As her husband swayed, she swung the wrench once more, right into his temple. He dropped like a sack of fish. The woman, who was now trapped under his weight, screamed and screamed, as Lillian raised the bloody wrench and beat her into submission as well. Finally, all was silent.