Armistice, Inc.

Armistice, Inc.

 

"Nine years of marriage has taught me one thing about Susan. She’s the sum total of everything I can't stand in a woman." I shift my gaze from the suits across the table and fix my eyes on my wife.

Susan sits and stares past them, through the plate glass window at two gulls outside. They seem to hang there, suspended in air by invisible strings--avian marionettes dancing against the mad San Francisco wind.

"She talks too much about trivial nothings and pays no attention to what’s really important. She spends too much time with her shallow girlfriends, shopping or going to movies, or whatever it is they do. She's gained too much weight and she doesn't even seem to think there's anything wrong with that."

Susan continues to stare out the window. No indication she's heard anything I said. The gulls outside switch places in an elegant dance that somehow avoids a collision.

"And to be honest, I just don't think she cares any more. Look at her." I sit back and fold my arms across my chest. "She's not even here."

Susan takes in a slow breath and releases it. She speaks to the air, to the gulls perhaps.

"I'm here. I'm just not that interested in your little rant. These birds are more interesting than whatever you have to say about me."

She continues her study of the gulls. I turn my attention to the couple across the table. "You see what I'm dealing with?"

The suits seem unimpressed, almost disinterested. They look at each other and the woman nods. The man reaches for his stylus and jots something into his device.

"What we do here at Armistice, Incorporated, is solve your marital problems." His voice rumbles deeply when he speaks. "Now, the way we do this is rather extreme, but it does work. We guarantee our results, one hundred percent."

Susan nods slowly. I raise an eyebrow and the woman continues. "We've researched your social profiles and your histories. Now we want to hear in your words, everything that has come between you and led you here. For us to act as ultimate arbiters you must be completely honest.”

Their words are dull, delivered by rote. The man concludes their scripted remarks. "Once this interview is completed we will apply a proprietary AI to our data--a computer analysis--and only then will we reach our decision."

The suits go quiet. Expressionless faces. Empty eyes. Silence.

"Decision." Susan’s voice is flat. "What sort of decision?"

"We've found that nearly every couple who comes to us trying to avoid a divorce has already tried all the classical avenues; counseling, the church, friends, sometimes even adultery, but nothing has worked. At this point, they are grasping for any solution. " The man taps his device in a staccato motion and swipes. "Your case is particularly egregious. At this moment, death of one spouse is indicated."

The last sentence stuns me. Death? The silence builds to a scream.

Susan turns toward me. Her eyes--puzzles of unknown fears. “Did you know this was…?”

“I swear I had no idea!”

I saw the late-night infomercial. At 4am it had seemed pretty legit to me.

Have you reached the end of your rope? Do you sometimes wish that old weight around your neck could just go away? Were you just too young?

Is your marriage killing you, minute-by-minute, day-by-day? Do you want it all to be over--but you can’t handle the idea of divorce?

Let us save you! We’ll deliver your peace of mind--regardless of what it takes!

Our results speak for themselves! None of our clients have ever proceeded with a divorce!

Armistice Incorporated--we guarantee our results, one hundred percent!

 

So I made the call. Looking now at Susan--those dark brows like arms stretched out above her eyes asking why, I wonder why we hadn’t just talked it out. When did we stop talking?

I can’t escape her eyes. Fear, accusation, and something buried beneath years of day-to-day drudgery--the look of longing for a treasure lost lifetimes ago. When was the last time she looked at me with any emotion? When was the last time she looked at me at all? That longing--I can see it on her face. I know she can see it on mine.

Life is decided in moments like these.

She doesn’t speak and I can’t. Nine years pass between us, back and forth in our eyes until they settle heavily onto our hearts, and we cry together. No sobs. No shaking gasps of sorrow. Just lonely tears, silently escaping their prisons, flowing into a promise.

She turns slightly toward the window, wiping her eyes with the back of a hand. Her face catches an unexpected rainbow through the glass and she looks up at the light. Outside, the gulls land on the balcony railing. Susan smiles.

“They mate for life.”

Susan knows so many trivial, important things like that. How she keeps so much in her head is a question with no answer. Every good idea we ever had came from her. What could I ever be without her?

I turn and face the suits. “I don’t want her dead.”

“You both signed the papers before this meeting.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re not going to kill her. Or me.”

“You’re killing each other already. Slowly, to be sure. Draining the life right out of each other. We see this all the time.”

I turn to Susan. Her temper is growing hotter, but this temperature melds us. A forgotten bond suddenly reasserts itself. She faces the table squarely.

“Your paper is worthless. Dare me to prove it. Lay a hand on him and you will die, I promise you.”

She stabs a finger in my direction. “You--are an ass. You weren’t always an ass, and maybe you won’t be tomorrow. But you are my ass.”

“And you are nobody’s bitch.” I've never seen her more beautiful.

We stand together.

“You can tear up those papers.” I hold out my hand and Susan takes it. “And keep the deposit.”

Susan tightens her grip. I’ll follow her anywhere. She speaks for both of us as we turn to leave together.

“We have what we need.”

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Have you read Gullbots? What were those gulls up to, outside that window?

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