Authors: Lourdes Bernabe
“Let’s
get dressed. It’s still early. I’m not calling it a night at 7:00pm,” I said irritated. I knew if I allowed myself to sloth away I wouldn’t wake till 8:00am. I didn’t want to spend yet another perfectly useful night thinking of what to do next.
To sit here for the rest of the night with only a sleeping Eric and my troubled thoughts to accompany me would be too pitiful for me to bear yet again. No. With the mounting workload that the office had sent me, I was sure to be working for days without a break. Tonight, I would enjoy myself. “If you hurry, your friends might still be playing basketball,” I suggested. “Maybe you can get a game in?”
“Huh?” he groaned. “You want me to leave? We just finished. You’re not even gunna let me relax and enjoy the night?”
“Yeah
…no, that’s not gunna work tonight babe. I actually have a lot of work to do before the end of the week and I really need to catch up,” I lied.
I needed to rush him out of the door before he would get back to questions about the knife. I could make up a story later, but I didn’t want to waste time on that now. If only I could literally pick him up like a cat and throw him out my door.
But that would be wrong, of course. But it couldn’t be wrong to think it right?
I watched him begin to dress
while I rearranged my room back to its usual picturesque state. Satisfied that he was out of bed and readying to leave I went into the kitchen for that can of red bull. It was waiting for me right on the counter just as I had left it. I drank it while I perused the books on my bookshelf. My collection was beginning to grow quite extensive. One day, I would be proud of the vast collection of books I had amassed in my home.
Eric
argued they were a waste of space. I couldn’t argue with such foolishness. One could not argue with a man who couldn’t see the beauty in the written word. He thought my books were a waste of space. I thought watching sports all day were a waste of time and energy. Hell, I’d even dared to say that
he
was a waste of space. I’d never say that to his face of course. Admittedly, I wouldn’t even really mean it. I loved Eric. That much would always be true. But at times, his mind was a bit too simple for my taste.
No one’s perfect. I certainly had
faults of my own. I would even go as far to say that Eric embraced those faults whole-heartedly. Could I not do the same for him? Not that a relationship was necessarily tit for tat. I turned a blind eye to his ignorance to the artistry of life and he looked past the fact that sometimes, though not always but a large amount of the time, I was a cold heartless bitch.
He knew this of me and still stuck
around.
He had
chosen to stay and submit to my whims while another man may have left by now. Not that that would be a problem. The single life is one to be cherished. Solitude would facilitate my lifestyle immensely. I would come and go as I pleased. Pun intended. But as much liberty as I would have, I wondered how much of life I would truly enjoy without Eric at my side.
Eric provided a
necessary balance. Without him, how often would I turn to my blissful moon-lit excursions? Sure, it’d be fun at first. But my father always reminded me of one thing, and I never could quite forget that all important piece of advice.
Everything in excess was bad for you; even drinking too much water could kill a man
. You couldn’t argue with that kind of old-fashioned logic. It was truer- than true.
W
ere I to be honest with myself, and I often tried to be as sincere as possible, the answer would be…
too often.
I would succumb to my calling far too often that eventually what I did and how I did it would begin to lose its luster. I shuddered at the thought of how I could possibly take all that I do and push it to a further limit. How far was too far? What were the boundaries? When would I decide I’d had enough?
The answers to these questions terrified me more than I cared to admit. Without someone like Eric to hold me back and give some
semblance of structure to my life, I would most likely spiral out of control and most likely end up incarcerated. It’s a possibility even now. Technology advanced quickly and any number of sciences could tie me to any number of murders and disappearances. Anything could happen.
“Jolene. Jolene. JOLE-ENE!!!” Eric screamed. He must have been calling me but I was lost on a trail of deep thought.
“Sorry, I was thinking out the week ahead. Like I said, I’ve got a shit load of work to do,” I lied once more. “Thanks for coming by. I needed it. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked. I wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that I was rushing him out.
“
Uh…I dunno. Just call me. I dunno what I’m doing after work,” he said disappointed. It was obvious. He’d wanted to stay the night and I basically gave him the boot. But honestly, he was just asking for too much. I got what I needed and so did he. What more was there to do? Snuggle? Spoon? That wasn’t on the menu tonight. I made a mental note to appease his need for affection the next time around. You can’t give men everything they want all at once or they won’t want it anymore. I gave him the obligatory hug and kiss and he was out the door without saying another word.
Chapter 19
I glanced at the clock in the kitchen. It was only 7:15. The night was young as was often said. I turned the TV onto the local news station. I let it play in the background and grabbed my cell. There were a couple of missed calls from my mother and one from my best friend Olivia. None of them would be able to entertain me tonight though. Their lives were filled with the type of normal mundane routines that I tried so hard to distance myself from. Whatever they wanted to discuss would just bog me down right now. They could wait until morning for a return phone call. I needed something else tonight.
W
hat to do? I needed a diversion. Something to take my mind off Eric, off of our issues, but more importantly, something to make me not want to kill everything and everyone. I was really on edge. Of all the people in the world, Ramos’s name came to my head inexplicably. I found the man to be fascinating. There was no denying that. But why of all people did he come to mind now? He looked to have a deeper insight into the type of person I was. I could only hope that he would share whatever insights he had on the matter. This was a man to learn from.
I didn’t want to waste more valuable time giving it more thought than it deserved and so I searched my iphone for his name.
Derek had mentioned that all of my new friends’ phone numbers would be stored in my phone. I ran through the R’s and voila! There was Ramos’s number. Without hesitation I tapped his name and hit face time. I preferred to see who I was talking to now that it was a readily available form of communication. Talking to an impersonalized phone was no longer in fashion. Unless of course, you didn’t want to be talking to that person anyway, then a short and sweet phone call would suffice.
Ramos never answered the phone. All I got was the voicemail lady with her usual step by step directions on how to leave a message. I hung up. There was no message. I
’d went on a whim. There was no urgency or any important matters to discuss. However, I was a bit disappointed. What was I left with now? It was early enough to call my mother but I really was not in the mood for any family-related gossip she had in store for me. She could wait.
A
fter I decided I’d paced around the apartment long enough I threw myself into the couch in my living room. There was some breaking news that yet another body was found in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. Not far from me. I could probably drive there in an hour and change. The victim was a male in his late 20’s. They found footage of him having a few cocktails at a bar at the Sands Casino. They broadcasted a photo of a handsome young man. He had blonde hair and blue eyes. He was exactly the type of man I might have looked for during a hunt. I took a closer look but I didn’t recognize him.
Apparently he had been brutally sodomized before some vicious murderer sliced his throat. It was a brutal killing from what I could see of some of the crime scene photos. They didn’t show the body, of course
. They never do. Most people were too squeamish and wouldn’t appreciate the sight of bloody faces and mangled corpses. They did, however, describe that this victim had some serious lacerations all across his body. He had at least 15 knife wounds spread across his body. Whoever was responsible for this had very personal reasons for such an assault.
The bloodier the crime scene, the more personal the k
illing was. Less blood indicated a certain level of detachment. Someone who didn’t want to get their hands dirty most likely wanted to distance themselves from the victim and the crime itself as much as possible. I was, of course, speaking from personal experience. Having those tiny bits of knowledge permitted me to play along with certain new stories that happened to catch my eye. I particularly enjoyed imagining the type of man or woman that could have committed different types of murders.
I never kne
w the murderers personally but I really did get a kick out of seeing the sucker once they were apprehended. Every now and then I’d hit the nail right on the head. It really was that 40 year old male truck driver. And sometimes too, it really was the husband with the love-affair. When it came to murders, clichés were everywhere. You just had to pin the right cliché to the right scenario.
The news anchor reported that this was the third body in the last two months to be found in a similar fashion. Authorities believed they had a serial killer on their hands in Bethlehem
. The news cast was of particular interest to me as I could see the similarities between my own victims and this victim in particular but then the commercials came on and I had succumbed to games on my phone and lost interest. The killer in question must have been an idiot anyway. He was leaving uncovered bodies left and right. It wouldn’t be long before they caught up to this guy. There was a right and a wrong way to do everything. Unfortunately, killing the wrong way lands you in prison. He would learn that cruel lesson soon enough.
I decided to see what
Derek was up to. I thought he might be someone I should be getting to know. I scrolled through my phone then tapped his name. It rang three times and instantly his scruffy face popped up on my screen. He looked like he was in an empty dark room. He was probably home in bed. Nevertheless, it was unimportant.
“Well what a surprise,” he smiled into his camera phone. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”
The picture wasn’t crystal clear but it looked like he was sweating profusely.
“Yeah
, well. I’m just chock full of surprises,” I replied eyeing him a little closer.
“What’s up?
Surely the Queen has more important things to do than to talk to little ol’ me,” he laughed. “What’s the matter? Nothing good to kill?”
“Not tonight. I’m giving my hobbies a bit of a rest. Which leads to how I’m
sitting here bored out of my mind,” I said. “Where do you live? I thought we might be able to get some coffee or something.”
“Actually…” he paused just a beat too long. “
I’m in Atlantic City right now,” he answered finally. The wonderful thing about Face Time was that you could spot a lie a mile away. Quite literally. Nothing coming out of Derek’s mouth was the truth. He wasn’t a very good liar.
“Atlantic City? Were the slots calling your name? Gambling’s bad for you, ya know…” I teased.
I wouldn’t call him out on his lies just yet.
“Gotta say, gambling ha
s never really been my thing. There’s a pretty good nightlife here but nothing compared to back home.”
“Where’s home?” I asked.
And just as soon as the words left my mouth, I figured he wouldn’t tell me the truth about that either. After all, one could never be too careful. Especially so in our line of play.
“
Vegas. I like to live the party lifestyle 24/7,” he said.
“Wow. That’s prime
hunting ground for someone like you,” I laughed. “So what does someone from Vegas want in Atlantic City?” I asked.
“They sent me over here for work,” he said.
His lies were getting better.
“Oh, what do you
do?” I asked. I was digging. I hoped I wasn’t being too conspicuous.
“A bunch of boring shit no one wants to hear about. You know how it is. There’s always a meeting here, a deadline there. Always a fucking shit storm. And when shit
hits the fan I get to come to places like A.C. It ain’t Vegas, but it ain’t half bad either,” he avoided the question.
He
’d said just enough to make it believable that he was traveling for business but included no details whatsoever about what said business was. He probably thought he was being clever. Whatever he was doing in Atlantic City, he didn’t want me to know. And for the time being, I didn’t much care.
“Sounds like you’ve got a pretty sweet deal. I’m sure you’ll find something interesting to do while visiting the beautiful Garden State that is New Jersey,” I
said sarcastically. “It’s late though, I’m gunna get going. Call me up if you wanna get together this week,” he offered.