The Bride of Roger Weinstein
By: David McGhee
He looked across the table to see his wife stuffing her face with lobster. Completely making a pig of herself out in a public restaurant. He resented the fact that she was growing more and more fat every year. The pretty young woman he married five years ago was now a chunky piece of work. Never the less she had an amazing personality, but even those can get old. He had hired a new secretary at his law firm and she’s been consoling him for a few months now. A pretty young blonde who genuinely seemed to love the old Jewish slob. Not exactly old. Forties, young forties, but he looked fifty. Not the best catch but he took what he could at the time. And now he had a successful law practice, Lincoln town car, a two story Mcmansion down in Highlands Ranch Colorado . Everything pointed toward a successful lawyer. All except for his wife Joan. He was becoming increasingly embarrassed to bring her to parties. Especially when pretty young things come up to him and hit on him. She always would come between them and show off her damn diamond ring to whoever was offering him a good time. He grudgingly told people he was married when she was around.
She looked up from her lobster and took a small sip of her champagne. Then she looked lovingly to him.
“Honey this is all absolutely wonderful.” She gushed. “Are you enjoying your steak?”
He was, in fact it was spectacular, but he still downplayed it all. “It’s ok...” He dove back into his plate hoping to shut her out.
“I love you.” Joan smiled.
“Yeah, love ya too.” He said matter of factly. Wishing tonight wasn’t their special night of the week to go out. Although he loved Elway’s Steak House, his company never failed to make him ill.
“I was thinking maybe we could see a movie after this?” She suggested.
“Can’t, have to wake up early tomorrow.”
“Or what about a nice walk through the Cherry Creek Mall?”
“Nope, sorry.”
“I see…” She lowered her head and merely picked at her plate for the rest of the evening.
When they got home she told him she was going to take a shower and offered to double up. He of course dismissed this thought and she went back upstairs to their room, lonelier than she has been in a very long time. Roger decided to make himself a drink in the kitchen. They had a well stocked bar near the entrance and he made himself a very big white Russian in a pint glass. Not particularly caring about taste he over did the alcohol. He leaned against the counter when his phone began to buzz. He had put it on silent so not to make Joan suspicious. She’s becoming very astute. And that worried him. Snooping women will be the death of the male gender.
He smiled when he saw that it was his secretary Miss Holling. Mmm… She was a Big Mac with all the fixings. “Hello Miss Holling.” He pronounced it very slowly and seductively.
“Jan baby. My name is Jan.” She paused. “Did you tell her?”
“Not yet.” He sighed. “But I’ve been thinking about the whole splitting up and giving up half or more of my estate.” He tried to sound professional about it. “I was thinking of something a little more drastic.” His tone became almost song like.
“Like what?” She asked. He could tell she intrigued.
Roger began sobbing mockingly. “My wife… My poor dear wife, she… She had a nasty fall down the stairs!” He was almost laughing now but he kept his voice low and his tone mournful. “Why. Oh why did she have to trip on her night gown at the very top step!”
“Sounds sad.” Jan spoke in the same mock mournful tone. “Should I send flowers tomorrow.”
“I think she would of liked that.” He smiled. “I’ll call you later baby.” He turned his cell phone off and headed upstairs. His wife was still in the shower when he undressed. Was he really going to do what he had been planning for weeks now? Was it sound? There was no one else who knew about his affair. No one from work that suspected he wasn’t the biggest Joan fan in the world. In fact he never talked about the beastly thing. He ran all possible scenarios and couldn’t see anything that would point toward fowl play. Ok, he thought. Let’s do this. And God help me if something goes wrong.
She got out of the shower fully dressed and got into bed. She picked up her silly mystery novel and seemed to have no desire for sex tonight. Not that she didn’t want to. But Roger had been such a cold fish lately she didn’t see it in the forthcoming future. As she began reading his hand slid up her thigh. This caught her off guard and she jumped a little.
“What’s the matter baby cakes?” Roger smiled.
“Oh, nothing.” Joan smiled. “I just… We haven’t in so long I was scared to bother you.” She looked relieved and kissed him on the cheek. “I just took a valium to sleep too. But if you want to actually pay attention to me tonight then I’m game.”
“Oh baby don’t say that. I’m a busy man and I’m always tired. But I do it for us you know?”
“I know.” She looked ashamed and thought about how thoughtless she had been. Of course he works hard. How else would they be able to live the life they are living now? And to be a woman this day in age who didn’t have to work was a downright miracle. She turned back to him. “Come here honey.”
“Wait, first can I ask you something baby cakes?” He gave his most loving expression to her.
“Of course dweedle dum.” She seemed to care for him more than ever at the moment.
“Could you fix me a drink? And take a shot or two of something while you’re down there.” He rubbed her thigh again. “I like how frisky you get on the sauce.” He licked his lips.
“What about the valium?” She seemed concerned.
“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be deep sleeping naturally.” His hand moved up to her nether regions. A shock of ecstasy shot through her body.
“Sounds like a good time.” She was playing along and pumping up the seduction. “Don’t miss me now.” She got up and slowly moved for the door. Roger barked like a dog, something he did when he was in moods like this. When she left he started pumping himself up for the deed. He was scared. Very scared, but he was going to go through with it.
He walked outside the room and crouched by the top of the stairs. So she wouldn’t see him when she walked up. Ok, he thought. Let’s do this!
She made their drinks and did as he said with the two shots. This time around she picked a particularly good scotch, aged twenty years and as smooth as a glass of milk. She decided to drink her Manhattan in one full slurp and began carrying up her husband’s white Russian. In a pint glass like he liked it with a more than generous dash of vodka. She walked by a picture of their wedding on the counter. She put down the drink and caressed the frame. Tears were welling up in her eyes. It had been so long ago. And now her knight was fading from her life. Her mother was proud with her choice in a husband, but she was beginning to think horrible thoughts. What if they were heading for divorce? She couldn’t bear that. She loved him so much but he didn’t seem to feel the same way any more. She missed the way he used to sweep her off her feet and go on extravagant getaways. Or hell, she even missed the way they’d just spoon when he was too tired to make love.
She wiped her eyes with her night gown and went upstairs. She felt a little uneasy for some reason. She had inherited a keen sixth sense from her mother. And it was acting up in spades right about now. She slowed her steps and became a little more cautious as she arose. When she was at the second to last step she stopped for a second. Roger behind the red velvet draped stair rails was sweating bullets. She turned around and began walking down the stairs.
“Shit.” Roger whispered to himself. “Come back up here you fat whore!”
She stopped again on the third step. She thought her feeling was silly then she began back up. Roger could feel her weight on the steps as she walked up. On the third to last step she stopped again. This time she felt even more uneasy. She scratched her nose and looked onward.
“Roger?” She called. “Could you help me with something?” She looked very nervous. Roger knew she couldn’t know about what he was planning? Could she? She took one more step and stopped again. “Roger?” Her stomach was in knots. She almost felt queasy. The alcohol was getting to her and she was getting woozy. The valium didn’t help this much either. She went one more step.
God dammit! Roger thought. One more fucking step! Come on! But she stood there calling his name. She descended one step and called his name again.
“Awe fuck it all!” Roger rose from behind the rails. His wife’s eyes filled with fright and confusion and he held out his arms and gave her a hefty push! To her it was all in slow motion. Him coming out, pushing her, her falling backwards and throwing the drink with her to the main doorway below. As she fell she made loud crunching noises. Her head twisted and her mouth seemed to explode with blood. With one final crash she made a sickening thud on the wooden floor below. A pool of blood grew from her backwards head.
Roger stood there for a second. Taking in what he had just done. Oh my God… He thought. I can’t believe I just did that. He felt a sickening wave go over him. He fought back the nausea and walked down the steps. Hold his hand to his mouth as he did so. When he got to the foot of the stairs he stuck out his foot and lightly tapped her leg. Then he went to her neck and felt for a pulse. Nothing. He had really done it this time. He felt more guilty than he thought he would. He put his right hand through her hair. She looked absolutely terrifying with her head twisted back and staring at him with those dead eyes. He got up and went into the kitchen to make himself a double tall glass of scotch on the rocks. He had to let it sink in. She was gone… She was gone… She was gone! A wry smile grew on his face. He slammed the scotch and went up stairs to get his phone. He dialed 911 and summoned paramedics. “My wife! She fell! Oh God it’s ghastly! Come quick!” He had screamed. He could hear them on their way from outside. He danced a little in front of their bathroom window until he heard the doorbell. “It’s unlocked!” He shouted down to them. He slicked his hair back and heard them come in. He gave one final wink at himself in the mirror and went back out into the hall.
“Sir where is your wife?” The paramedic called up. What? He thought. He came to the stairs and saw that no one was at the foot of the steps but the damn paramedic and his flunky sidekick. Where was Joan?!
“Sir could you show us where it happened?” The other one asked.
“Show you fellows what?” Joan asked as she came out of the kitchen, drink in hand. “Roger, why are the paramedics here?” She asked seeming genuinely shocked.
“I uh… I heard a crash and you screamed.” He was sweating a little.”I thought you had hurt yourself.”
“Oh that’s crazy!” She smiled and looked at the medics. “I’m as healthy as a horse.”
“Yes you are…” Roger muttered softly and with confusion.
“Ma’am we’d like to take your vitals. Just to be safe.” The main medic asked.
“Ok but I assure you I’m fine.” She led them into the kitchen and sat at the dining table. “I was just fixing a drink. Do you boys want one?”
“No thanks ma’am. Can’t drink on the job.” The main one said as he put a blood pressure belt around her arm. The other felt her pulse and timed it. After a few minutes they declared her fine and were on their way out. Roger was still at the top of the stairs and in complete confusion. He walked back into bed and laid down. Staring at the ceiling. Joan came back in with his drink and sat it on the table.
“What was that all about?” She asked.
“I honestly don’t know.” He scratched his head. “I am completely and utterly speechless.”
In the morning he got his cup of coffee and Joan had her Orange juice. He kissed her on the cheek and left for the day. Joan called out to him telling him she loved him as his car came out of the garage. He put his town car in to gear and sped down the neighborhood. What the hell happened last night? He thought. He couldn’t get it out of his head. As he approached the highway he stopped at a corner and got the mannequin out of the trunk. It was dressed like a business man and he put it into the front passenger seat.
“No fucking toll lanes for papa. HOV all the way.” He felt proud of himself to had saved the few dollars in toll money by doing such a sneaky thing. One paid but two or more got downtown free. He just started back up when his phone rang. It was Jan.
“Hey honey.” Roger said without emotion.
“Should I send flowers?” Jan spoke with a hint of lusty venom.
“Actually not until tomorrow. Something went wrong last night.” He breathed deeply. “I didn’t get to do it. Tonight though.” He sighed again. “I’ll get her tonight.”
When he got home Joan was fixing home made fried chicken. For all he hated about her she could certainly cook. She smiled at him and he kissed her cheek.
“How was your day hun?” She asked with her usual loving tone.
“Life sucking as usual.” He replied. “What did you do today?”
“Oh you know, the usual. I read a lot. I cleaned the house. I cleaned the pool. I cleaned the bathroom.” She took in a deep breath. “The usual.” She smiled.
“You must be spent!” He grabbed her waist. She put up no resistance. “Why don’t you stop dinner for just a bit and go on upstairs and start us a bath?” She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
“It might ruin the chicken though?” She looked back at the frying pan.
“We’ll order out from dominos.” He kissed her hand. “Nothing’s too good for baby.” He smiled wryly. She made a mock dramatic gesture.
She put her right hand to her head and said in an old southern belle accent. “Oh my Roger how you ever do spoil me!” She broke from his grip and went upstairs. He could hear the water being drawn and he fixed himself a double tall glass of Grey Goose vodka. He downed it and walked toward the stairs. Not this time you bitch. He thought angrily to himself. This time you’re going down.
As they sat in the water Joan tried to intertwine her legs with his but he resisted. Before he did what he was thinking of doing he had to ask.
“Honey. Do you remember last night?”
“Yes of course.” She replied dryly. “Honestly you can be such a worry wart sometimes.” Her loving demeaner returned. “But I know it’s because you love me.” She giggled and tried her legs again. He again rebuffed.
“Wait here sweety. I got you something special.” He got out of the tub and dried off a touch. He walked out of the bathroom stark naked and still dripping. Joan figured he must of gotten her that necklace she had been eyeing and closed her eyes waiting for the big surprise.
“Honey.” He said. Her eyes were still closed.
“Yes dweedle dum.” She smiled.
“I hate that name you whore!” He shouted. She opened her eyes to find her husband above her with a plugged clock radio in his hands. He had put on a robe.
“Roger don’t!” She screamed.
“Die you stupid leech!” He threw in the radio and immediately the lights began to flicker. She convulsed violently and screamed as she received the high voltage. She splashed and flailed and the lights flickered and began puffing smoke. After a minute it stopped and the lights went off. Roger walked out of the bathroom and went downstairs. He fixed himself another drink and got out his phone. He called Jan, who answered on the second ring.
“Well?” She asked.
“She was shocked to see me.” He said dryly and took a sip of his double vodka.
“Oh…” She moaned sympathetically. “Poor Joan.” Her voice picked up. “How’dja do it?”
“Well you see officer.” He took another sip and continued with his serious monotone. “I told her not to listen to that damn radio right next to the tub!”
“I’ll see you tomorrow baby. Don’t wanna stay on the line too long. They may check the bill.” She sounded worried.
“What?” He asked. “Calling my secretary to see how certain accounts are doing?” He took another sip. “It’s my business to call you.”
“And what would your business be exactly.” She cooed.
“Your ass.” He finished the vodka in one final gulp. “See you tomorrow. I’ve got to discover the body.” He hung up. He put the glass in the kitchen sink and proceeded to the stairs. As he was halfway up the lights came back on. “What’s this?” His heart pounded. “What’s going on?” He ran up the stairs and went into the bathroom. To his shock he saw Joan bathing quite contently as she listened to the soft rock stations on the radio.
“This was a wonderful idea Roger!” She sat up revealing her breasts. “I love this station.” She smiled at him. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing! He just stared at her blankly for a few moments before she interrupted the silence. “Are you coming back in honey?”
“No…” He uttered. “I, I gotta get another drink.” He turned around and walked back down to the kitchen. He felt like he was in slow motion. This couldn’t be real could it? He asked himself as he poured a half a pint glass with whiskey.
The next day at work he sat at his desk thinking about the past few days. What was really going on, he thought. Had he merely just been hallucinating? Did he really make attempts on her life? He was in complete and utter grey over the situation. Jan came in the office with a stack of papers and slammed them on his desk.
“I thought you were going to take care of this?” She pointed to the papers but he knew what she meant. Acting a charade so the others didn’t suspect.
“I don’t know what to tell you.” He said with a monotone grunt.
“Tell me you’re going to finish these off!” She held the stack back up and scolded him again. She slammed them back down and walked out of his office. His partner Charlie came in the room right after she left.
“Man.” He laughed. “What’s up her ass today?”
Not me… Roger thought. Not for a while it looks like at least…
When he got home he came in to the smell of Joan’s cooking again. This time it was Italian. Italian noodles with chicken and olive oil to be exact. He couldn’t help but come into the kitchen and take a sample. Joan playfully pushed him aside and wagged her index finger.
“You’ll spoil your appetite you big lug.” She giggled.
“How can you do that when you are tasting the thing you would spoil?” He added almost half jokingly.
“Oh you!” She gushed and kept working on the dish.
At the dinner table they both devoured their meals. After that Roger suggested drinks. She smiled and sent him an approving wink from across the table. He got up and went upstairs really quick. He went into the bathroom and pulled Joan’s valiums from the cabinet. He rushed back down and stuck the bottle in his pocket. He went to the bar and heard Joan cleaning dishes on the other side. He got out the mixing bottle and opened it. He put in the whole bottle and then added some cranberry juice. Then a little ice. Then a generous portion of orange vodka. He shook and shook the bottle until he was certain no pills could survive. He poured them into two glasses. One small for him and one pint for her. If he was to get away with this. It had to look like both of them had an attempt at their lives. He was going to tell the police about her love of mixing pills with alcohol. He brought the glasses into the dining room and sat the pint on her side and his on his side. She came back in seeming exhausted. She looked at the drink and frowned.
“You know Roger, actually I’m a little worn. I don’t think this would make me feel any better. Not tonight.” Roger’s pulse quickened.
“Oh come on honey. Just a little to celebrate your wonderful meal.” He smiled and gestured his hand toward her glass. “I went through all that trouble just to see you wimp out?” He mockingly frowned and puckered his lips. “Come on sweety. For me?”
“Oh. Okay.” She smiled and sipped a little. Roger smiled and drank his. After a few sips she began engulfing hers. “This is just wonderful Roger.” She finished her drink then went over to hug him. She got back up and began wobbling toward the door. She turned back and slurred an ‘I love you honey’. Roger didn’t look back but he raised his glass and told her he loved her too.
He took the final sip and her a body thud to the floor in the living room.
“Oh dear.” He said without emotion. “My wife has fallen. I simply must go help her.” He got up and washed his glass out and went to bed.
The next morning he woke up to his alarm. He smiled knowing there was no way should could have survived that. He stretched out his arms and his right arm bumped into something. No, he thought, NO! NO! NO! NO! He got up out of bed and violently pulled the covers off. Joan was sleeping on her side of the bed and woke up and was drowsy. She rubbed her eyes.
“Good morning honey.” She looked at the lack of comforter. “Why did you pull off the covers?” She looked worried.
“What the fuck are you doing!?” He screamed and stormed out of the room. Halfway down the hall he remembered he didn’t have his work clothes. He went back in and grabbed them from his closet.
“Honey what’s wrong?” She asked teary eyed.
“Just fucking get some groceries today.” He stormed out of the room and decided to change at work. He had to get out of there before he did something that would look very much on purpose.
He went into the garage and eyed the shot gun and ax hanging on the wall. He decided against it and grabbed some wire cutters. With ease and grace he went under her station wagon and snipped the breaks.
He got into his car and pulled out. He looked sullenly at the house and said to himself. “Have a good day honey.”
On his way home he scanned the radio for accidents of the day. He finally caught wind of a terrifying pileup caused by an old station wagon down on I25. He grinned and musically tapped his steering wheel. The more details that unveiled the bigger the grin on his face grew. It had happened earlier around 10am that morning.
"Tell me more!" He laughed. Reports are circulating that a women failed to stop in time and went under a big rig. "Oh no. Not an eighteen wheeler! You poor bitch!" He was on cloud nine. The gorier it got the more please he was with himself. And what luck! She had smashed into an eighteen wheeler and into two other cars! There was no way they could deduce anything from that but bad women driving. Baaaaaad Joan driving. You're a bad driver Joan, and now you're dead. D-E-A-D. Dead. And what a way to go! So extravagant! He stopped complimenting himself for a moment and called Joan.
It rang two times and she answered. "Yes. What now? Did you not do it again?" Even she couldn't bring him down right about now.
"Honey most wonderful news!" He gushed. "Not only did she bite it but I truly doubt anyone would ever figure out the cause!"
She was silent for a moment. "What did you do?" She seemed genuinely interested.
"I cut her breaks." He said merrily.
"WHAT!?" She screamed. "They'll fucking corner you like a donut shop being robbed!"
"Listen." He tried to calm her, she wasn't swaying.
"You are an idiot! You're a fucking lawyer Roger! You'r-"
"Shut the fuck up and listen!" He cut her off. "She ran into a big truck, eighteen wheeler Jan! And that truck ran into some other cars! If they find out what happened through all the carnage I'll personally eat my suit jacket with fucking mustard!" She was silent.
"Oh baby, this is... GREAT!" He imagined her face lighting up like a firecracker. "Should I come over tonight?"
"No, remember I'm a grieving widower." He said with caution, the first time he's calmed down since hearing the good news.
"Right... Ok then. I'll be by to give you the papers you left at the office."
"I didn't leave anything."
"Oh I think you did. See you tonight." She hung up. He listened to the silence for a minute or two and hung up himself. He had much planning to do. Now that he was a single man and all.
As he pulled into his driveway he noticed something that sent him through the roof. Nearly crashing into his mailbox on his way. He semi parked half on the grass and got out of his town car. Her car... HER CAR WAS IN THE FUCKING GARAGE! What was going on!? He got out and ran to the door. Not even bothering to lock his very expensive ride. He unlocked the door and rushed in without closing it.
"Joan!? Where the hell are you!?" He screamed into the empty living room. He walked over and picked up a fire poker from the fireplace. "Honey!?"
"I'm in the kitchen." Her voice trailed from behind the wall. He walked with speed and intensity and came face to face with her putting up groceries. "Hi honey. You wouldn't believe the day I've had!" She said as she put a box of generic corn flakes into the cabinet.
"Oh, I can imagine." He said, tightening his grip on the poker. His face became red with rage and he puckered his lips.
"Some station wagon just ran into a big rig! I mean, I'm scarred for life!" She said still not noticing his attack stance. "And also I think we need to fix my car's breaks. I nearly crashed into a guard rail!" He remembered then that he had cut the front breaks... Her car was a fucking four wheel drive job. God dammit how could he have forgotten?! He loosened his grip on the poker and tried to conceal his anger.
“Well...” He gave a resigned sigh. “Lucky thing you didn’t get hurt sweety.”
“Thanks honey! I love you!” She said, still going through the grocery bag. He didn’t acknowledge her and turned his back to her and went back into the living room. He placed the poker back and sat down on the sofa. He put his head into his hands and began crying. Why was this happening?! Was he imagining all this? Was he going crazy? Does she know what he’s been trying to do and is fucking with him? As he thought about this his anger grew again. He eyed the poker and picked it back up. He tossed it in the air a few times and went back into the kitchen.
“Honey.” He called. Swinging it back and forth like a bat. “There’s something I wanna tell you.” His face was red again and this time he was going to finish this once and for all.
She was still putting away the last of the groceries when he came into the room.
“Yes honey?” She said with her back to him. He raised the poker and positioned the spike right above her head. He raised it and was about to strike her with all his will.
Then a car honked outside. DAMMIT! She turned around and seemed aghast by his position. He raised it again about to strike when Jan let herself in. She ran to him and hugged him without even noticing his wife in the room. She began kissing him and grabbing for his crotch when Joan interrupted.
“What the hell is going on here?!” She crossed her arms and for the first time in his life she had authority in her voice. “Roger tell me what the hell this is all about!” She looked so stern, so mad this time that he froze. He dropped his weapon and realized this was the end of the road for them. No more seemingly loving couple. Now he was headed for divorce court and that meant half of his property… No, half of his whole life would be hers! All that he had worked for, ruined! He began stuttering and shook his head.
“Oh fucking hell!” Jan let go of Roger and left the room.
Joan kept her gaze on Roger. “Tell me. Is she your little fuck buddy at the office or something? God dammit it Roger I gave you the best years of my life and you do this to me! What have I done to deserve this?!” She walked over and poked him in the chest with her right index finger. “I cooked, I cleaned, I did anything you wanted!” He just looked at her blankly.
“I… I… I’m so sorry…” Roger finally muttered.
“I think it’s a little late for that you hog!” She crossed her arms again. “Roger.”
Oh God… He knew what was coming… “I want a div-“
Jan came into the room and pointed the shot gun from the garage at her face. “He’s over you.” She said as she pulled the trigger.
A split second that seemed like years passing in slow motion.
The sudden shock on her face.
Roger’s blood going cold.
And Joan’s head exploding and littering the back of the kitchen with fragments of brain, skull, and hair. Jan handed the shot gun to Roger, who was still in complete paralysis at what just happened.
“Get a new secretary.” Jan said as she flipped him the bird. It was then he noticed her wearing some of the latex gloves he had used a while ago when he painted the bathroom that awful shade of blue Joan had wanted. He looked down and saw his bare hands holding the shot gun. He dropped it and fell to his knees. Heart pounding and he still couldn’t believe what she had done. He looked back to her but she was gone. He got up slowly and walked to his door. No sign of her car or anything. Just his bad parking job and the ruined lawn. He walked slowly back to the kitchen. He bent down before Joan’s headless corpse and began picking up pieces of her head. He held them in his hands and collapsed on his knees again. This time in a huge pool of blood and gore.
He heard police sirens in the distance. Everything was cloudy, like a dream. Yes… It was all a dream. He grabbed the shot gun and walked to the front porch. As the police cars skidded to a stop officers got out and drew their guns.
“Put the weapon down!” One long haired female cop shouted. Others followed suite and kept shouting warnings at him. Roger began giggling insanely and raise the gun to the air.
“She’s not dead! Watch, I didn’t kill her! She’s gonna come right out and say I tried to kill her!” He looked one eighty around his lawn. Neighbors were coming out of their houses and gathering around the officers. “Watch! Let me show you!” He walked a few steps further out into the lawn.
No more warnings this time. They laid him so full of bullets his suite jacket began to fall apart. He fell to his knees. Dropped the gun. Made one more look over of the neighborhood and smiled. He fell down and bled out onto the walkway.
The officers held their distance for a moment then gathered around him. One began vomiting while others had to look away at what they had done.
A scream came from inside the house. Joan ran out to the front and saw her husband dead on the ground.
“NO!” She shouted. “YOU KILLED HIM!” She began to get hysterical. The cops kept away as she ran to her late husband’s body. She picked up his corpse and began holding it, as if he were going to hold her bag. She cradled him as she cried. The blood and remnants bled onto her shirt and jeans and socks and undergarments. She began bawling hysterically. She rocked him back and forth uttering nonsensical words of a grieving widow.
The female officer went to her and put her hand on her shoulder. She pulled away but the lady put another hand on her. She fell to her knees and hugged her tight. Joan was still crying when the sound of an ambulance could be faintly heard across the neighborhood. Coming at mach speed.
The lady officer was still cradling her when they came.
And Joan was still cradling Roger.
And Roger lay lifeless in her arms.