The strong vodka burned my throat, as if the clear liquid ate through the delicate muscles down to the lining of my stomach, which revolted against another shot, another drink to make life palatable.
Silence surrounded me, cocooning me in my disdain and in that moment between eternity and utter despair, I heard the loud blaring of a telephone which I thought I’d placed on silent. The noise seemed to almost be the divine hand of god reaching down to awaken me from my stupor, as I teetered on the edge of sanity and hopelessness.
“I need your help,” he sniffled. It was the one voice that brought all walls crumbling down to rubble. He knew how to play me like a well turned instrument; like Catgut, he made me produce rich moans of ecstasy as his exquisite hands caused me to forget my pain, and in those short moments, I could almost overlook that he’d chosen another instead of me.
“It’s a bad time to call, Tony,” I said, downing another shot of devil’s brew.
“Remember the other night, while we were in bed.”
I sighed. “It’s something I try to forget, and often.” I didn’t want to admit that it was the first time I’d felt alive since Jim’s passing, or that the only thing that kept me getting up in the morning was knowing he might appear on my doorstep again with a homemade meal, a bottle of expensive wine, and a smile that promised respite.
“I need you to do it; I need you to kill my wife.”
The air crackled around me, as I began to laugh; what started out as a simple simper soon became a rousing cackle.
“Well, I don’t have anything else to do,” I said, again staring at the three-fourth-full bottle of tainted Vodka that I strove to empty.
“When will you do it? How? I don’t want her to suffer.”
“I’ll do it my way; that is all you need to know, and don’t call me again. I think this makes it that we can never be.”
“But, the plan was -”
Before he could argue with me anymore, I slammed down the phone. If I was already dead, it didn’t matter if I killed someone else. The worse that could happen was that I’d succeed; the best option was that I’d finally ascend to another plane of existence and become a reflection of the pain which the divine had crashed down onto me.
Picking up the bottle from the marble countertop, I trudged back into his office; back to the place where I could almost still smell Jim’s cologne, remember his kisses and what it was like to be his all.
But you’re never anyone’s all, it’s a temporary position destined for deceit, heartache and betrayal, I knew, as I had betrayed him.
A light tap on the side door, and there she was – my kryptonite. Dressed in a flowery, flowy dress, she quickly turned the knob and walked again into what used to be my sacred space – the space she’d defiled. Her smile was tight.
“I heard,” she whispered, as if Tony could hear her.
“Then you know he wants you gone?” I said.
“Yes, but-but, I’ve given up everything for him, to be his suburban bride, when all I wished to do was be a performer. I’m an artist.”
“You’re a hack with no talent, Maria. And you should be happy he married you. We both have no skills to rely on, and I know I owe you big time.”
“Are you considering it?”
“Am I considering killing my best friend, the one who killed my husband for me?” I picked up the bottle of vodka and poured myself another drink. “No. I’m a friend, and a good one.”
“Then tell me, what do you plan on doing?”
“Call your husband over, and we’ll talk it all out. I’m sure Tony is just overreacting. And if he isn’t, we’ll deal with it.”
Her contrite smiled seemed to almost placate me, but I knew that both of them had their own plans and I was to be their fall woman; the one that would see to it that they’d get their insurance money and no prison time.
My stomach lurched again, and still I took another swig, and another until Tony came bustling into the room.
“You know, Maria?” he yelled. With the almost empty room, his voice echoed, as if they were in a cave, deep in the mountainous.
“Of course. I knew you’d try something.” I heard her disdain and almost physically felt her anguish. It reminded me even more of my own.
“Drink?” I asked, retrieved glasses and poured the libations until they overflowed. “Here are the rules, people. When you ask a question, you take a drink and before you answer, you take a drink. Got it?”
“I’m not interested in your games tonight, Shannon,” Maria said.
“Good. Because if you can’t follow my rules, then you need to get out of my house. My head is aching and I’m about to vomit all over my rug from your nonsense. Why can’t you two just see how lucky you are and not think about the affairs, the bait that you’ve each used to drive the other crazy?”
It soon became a cacophonic chorus of accusations, finger- pointing and more threats until they each slowly slid down the white wall, finally sitting next to each other.
“What did you put in our drinks?” Tony asked
“The same thing I’ve drunk all night. Spiked Vodka.”
Maria looked up at me as if in a stupor. “Why? Why would you do this to us? I thought you were my friend.”
“Sometimes you have to experience death to appreciate life.” I then handed her the telephone. “So, now it is up to you. You get to decide if you either should live or die. The call will save you, as well as Tony.”
Removing my car keys from my pocket, I headed as fast as I could to my car parked out front. The luxury sedan used to make me happy, but the expensive material did nothing to fill the hole inside of me.
Putting it in gear, I sped away from the neighborhood; away from what it meant to be the soccer mom without kids, the mall shopper with maxed out credit cards to keep up appearances. I left behind what it meant to be powerless in my life.
Following the road to Richmond’s Rocket’s Landing, I took one long look at the city lit up, allowing the people around me and the sounds and smells of the city to almost awaken me. Then driving parallel to the James River, I took my chance.
With the pedal pushed down, as far as it would go, I drove, coming ever closer to the River’s edge until the car lifted up and smashed into the dark waters.
They say when you’re close to death, you remember the meaning of your life, but watching the front windshield crack, and feeling the car’s slow decent, I knew that I was just learning about life.
And I wanted to live.
