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Monday, August 17, 2009

Honey I'm Home - a short story

Honey I’m Home

by Marva Gregorio De Souza

“Phew! That was close.”

Robbie stood up again once he was sure the patrol car was out of sight. The police seemed to have stepped up their game, that was the fourth one this evening. Or maybe it was totally unconnected with his particular illegal activities.

He bent over and took a good grip on the sack again. If someone had told him dead bodies were this hard to drag he wouldn’t have believed them. After this many you’d think he’d be used to it, but he wasn’t. In fact every one seemed heavier than the last. His efforts to find lighter, smaller, victims were not paying off. It would appear that the gym was the only option to make his work easier.

This one put up a fight too.

“Sally? Yes I’m sure her name tag said Sally.” The sack dropped to the floor with a thud as Robbie dug into his pocket to check.

“Correctomondo! And they said I wasn’t a people man.”

He continued on his journey to the river. The ground got softer as he neared the banks and his dead weight became almost impossible to maneuver when his feet began sinking in the mud.

“Come on Sally, work with me here.” The two companions stopped for another break. Robbie hunkered down as he heard another siren in the distance.

“Just in case Sally. We can’t be too careful.” He took a watchful pause before continuing conversation with his ward. “I hate what they’ve done to us Sally. Hate it. It used to be that you got a job, got paid and went home to the family, satisfied after a hard day’s work. Nobody got fired. Nobody. I didn’t even do anything wrong, really. It was the bastard manager he didn’t have a clue. Didn’t have a clue about anything. He’d only been working there for what, a month? Two at the most. I was doing exactly what everyone else was doing. But I got caught cos I was the only one honest about it. And no one stood up for me. They all just let me hang. The family left me hanging too. No money. No Robbie. Let’s not talk about it any more. It hurts too much even after all this time. Things are much better now anyway. The new family is much better. Let’s go.”

The heavy lugging continued through the dough like soil. Sometimes Robbie thought he’d hit quick sand but he knew that wasn’t possible so he carried on, building up a ‘tug of war’ rhythm to get through each inch. He was not afraid of hard work.

At the small cabin he knocked. Two long, three short. He looked around to make sure there were no fishermen, trackers, animals, spies or police; took out the padlock key and removed the padlock. He whispered to Sally;

“Let me go in first and pave the way. They’re not expecting company. I’m sure everything will be fine but just in case. I won’t be long.”

Robbie pushed past the resistance of the rusty hinges and went inside, closing the door behind him. Outside you could hear his urgent whispers without quite catching what he was saying. The door opened again and he pulled Sally inside after one last check for watching eyes.

He took the sack off with great difficulty. No scissors to hand. Sally lay on the center of the floor with the knife still embedded in between her ribs on the left hand side. Her eyes were open, the look of shock imprinted over pre-Robbie brightness. Under the surveillance of the new family and dozens of flies, Robbie put his arms under Sally’s armpits, careful not to touch her breasts, and from behind positioned her in the last space against the wall. Finished, wall to wall family, as it should be.

Robbie took his place against the opposite side so he could see Sally without turning his head. She was the newest, the freshest, and he wanted to enjoy her for as long as possible. He took a deep breath, and gagged over the stench as he remembered he’d forgotten to pick up air freshener again.

The End