The Medusa Effect Chapter Four

https://steemit.com/writing/@medusaeffect/the-medusa-effect
https://steemit.com/writing/@medusaeffect/the-medusa-effect-chapter-two
https://steemit.com/writing/@medusaeffect/the-medusa-effect-part-two
https://steemit.com/writing/@medusaeffect/the-medusa-effect-chapter-three

CHAPTER FOUR

WONDER

He was more than pleased with the outcome. He slid the pages into the plastic sleeve and carefully lodged it between his computer and the notebook in his bag. He placed his glasses on the table top and took one more look at the room far down the row on the end. He couldn’t justify one more day away and while it helped, the truth was coming to him, that the tryst was better off left the way it was. Still, running off like a coward didn’t exactly make him feel like a he-man.

His steps creaked down to the first floor. He heard the quiet voice call to him from behind the counter.

“Ready to check out?”

Her smiling eyes made him wonder about her and her soothing tone made him ask her how she was doing, did she live in the area and did she know any good restaurants? It surprised him when she agreed to let him buy her lunch. Bobbie would be at school, he could take the clerk anywhere she wanted to go. She suggested they order from Darby’s only a mile away and eat upstairs. He hoped foolishly that she meant they might get a room, but she said again, that the unused dining area was always vacant, that he could come there anytime.

The pizza was dry. He washed it down with the Styrofoam cup of tap water. He hurried through the Buffalo wings and told her to keep the rest for her lunch tomorrow. He nodded politely and left as quickly as possible.

“Good-bye Mr. Holtz.”

Ethan realized that he had given her a photo copy of his license and that she knew he lived only two miles from there. He wondered what her angle was. He would have to eat the bill on this one, since she ordered a second salad and put it in her name. He stared resentfully at the reflection in the rear-view mirror then sped out on to 41.

He was new at this. He figured other guys, more experienced ones, would have seen that coming. He wondered that he had gotten away with messing around, at all. Bobbie was an intelligent, insightful person, he reflected, it didn’t make sense that she would ignore all the signs. Then he thought, that she had to know. Ethan pulled quickly to the side of the road. He ran to the asphalt track and sprinted down to the water’s edge. He leaned over, placing his hands on his knees.

“Oh God!” He was right back where he started.

He knew there was nothing else to do, but to tell the truth. He trudged back up the hill and walked sullenly to his car. He slammed the door shut and dialed the school before he lost his nerve.

“Yes, I’m calling for Mrs. Holtz, please, Mrs. Bobbie Holtz, uh hum.” His voice quivered. He was on hold for several minutes.

“Can I take a message, sir?” He heard the muffling sound of her hand over the receiver. “Uh, Mr. Holtz?”

“Yes, this is me.”

“I’m sorry, but she’s not here today.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” He choked on the words, “I completely forgot. I’m so sorry…” he fumbled with the keyboard. He heard himself thumbing the wrong button several times.

He didn’t know what to think. Had she fallen ill while he was on his supposed work-thing out of town? He raced toward home. A sinking feeling came over him as he pulled in, spotting the unmistakable Hummer in the drive. How the Hell did she even know where I lived, he thought to himself?

He shut the car door as quietly as he could and moved toward the door. He looked nervously at the part in the curtain. It was worse than he thought, he saw an empty bottle of champagne on the kitchen table. He knew she must have gotten herself wasted. A fringed purse hung on the back of a kitchen stool. He felt for the doorknob. He took a deep breath and stepped inside. He heard the shower running. He pictured her holding Bobbie's hair from her face while she wretched into the toilet. The closer he got, he could hear the two of them. Bobbie was grunting.

He instantly lost his nerve. He went running for the door. He half slid into the side of his car. The engine turned over sluggishly sending a wave of nausea and panic through him. He hit the gas so hard the back window was splattered with slush. He couldn't see where he was going. He gritted his teeth and drove out as best he could. When he backed up without hitting anything he veered out into the lane and peeled away. He was blinded. The sun stabbed into him. He stopped dead in the middle of the road.

"What the Hell am I doing, this could be over now?"

He listened to the light…forcing himself to turn around. He drove slowly around the block until his stomach settled. I will just say it, he told himself, I will tell the truth, that's all there's to it. When he pulled in the Hummer was gone. He was thankful for that, at least. When he stepped to the porch the door was slightly ajar. She left in a hurry, obviously she didn't want to run into him, either. It was better this way, he told himself. He pushed the door open, removed his boots and seated himself at the kitchen table waiting for her.

"Oh, hello." She sounded nervous, her cheeks were flushed.

Ethan felt the color drain from his face.

"How are you, dear?" She walked over to him tightening her robe. She leaned over and gave him a peck on his forehead.

What kind of sick joke was this? It was the second time that day he got played. This time it was excruciating. He bit his lower lip, determined not to start the conversation. After watching her mill around the kitchen setting up the coffee and making toast, he couldn't believe she had him still sitting there in his wet socks, freezing. He rubbed his toes on the braided rug. She brought honey and two plates to the table. When he caught her eye she looked away. Ethan left the steaming cup of coffee on the table and went to the bathroom.

He collapsed behind the door. He pulled off his socks and flipped them into the pile of wet towels. The floor was slippery. He stood up carefully and turned on the shower. He shivered under the hot stream until his hair was fully wet. He stopped listening for the door. When he came out she was in bed with her back to him. He slipped in beside her pulling her close, smelling the pomegranate in her hair. They fell asleep together.

The alarm went off. He was already in his robe with his finger on the coffee pot before he realized it was Saturday. It was odd, he thought, for her to forget to turn the damn thing off. Ethan sauntered back toward the bedroom. When he got there she was already up and in the bathroom.

He knocked gently on the door, “Hey hon, did you forget? It’s the weekend.”

He knocked several times before he finally heard her say she had an appointment. He turned on the television and threw himself back down onto the king sized bed. He pulled the heavy covers up over his shoulder. He flipped through several shopping channels until he finally found the news.

When Bobbie walked in she found him staring open mouthed at the screen. The two of them stood there, stunned by the image of Sylvia Braxton looking back at them. She was found dead, an apparent drowning just off the pier. There was nothing to say. Bobbie collapsed onto the floor.