Gargantuan_ A Ruby Murphy Mystery - Maggie Estep [96]
It takes me a couple of minutes of driving around to remember which block it is, but finally I find the little brownstone on North Sixth Street. There’s a spot right in front. I pull in and wait. At five minutes to five, my wife strolls onto the block. She looks so good. It takes her a minute to notice my truck and when she does, her eyes get big and I see her hesitate. I jump out of the truck.
“Sal, what the fuck are you doing here?” she spits.
“Come on, Karen,” I say.
“Come on what?”
“Let’s talk.”
“I have to get Jake.”
“Sure. I’ll give you both a ride home and then you and me talk.”
“Are you kidding me?” She is so angry she actually comes closer, putting her face just a few inches from mine. She’s turning red from head to toe.
“Karen, I’m not sure how I’ve made you so damn mad but I’m sorry about it. Please come home.”
“Just like that? Months of relationship crimes and I’m just gonna go, ‘Oh, okay, I’ll go home.’ No fucking way, Salvatore.”
Wow. Salvatore. Now I know she’s mad.
“What relationship crimes?”
“You’re off gallivanting with that fucking Ruby slut. You bring her home to fucking dinner, Sal, that’s what. And then you claim she’s got some boyfriend and you’re off at the track helping her boyfriend? I don’t think so.”
“What’s Ruby got to do with this?” I ask, genuinely shocked. “Her boyfriend was in a bad spot. I tried to help.”
“Oh right. Yeah. Sure. You think I’m fucking stupid? You think you can just go bang the nearest slut and I don’t mind ’cause you’re putting food on the table and big TVs in the living room? And you ain’t gonna be putting nothing nowhere if you don’t go back to work, Sal.”
“Karen, honey, I got a bad back.”
“You got a bad dick is what you got.”
Now I’m offended.
“Karen, listen to me,” I say, putting my hands on her shoulders.
“Don’t touch me,” she hisses.
“Karen, I love you. I think about you constantly. I want to make love to you five times a day. I don’t understand you at all but I love you. Will you marry me?”
This seems to stump her.
“What?”
“Will you marry me?”
“I already made that mistake, Sal.”
“I want to do it over, Karen. I want to marry you again. I want you to tell me everything you think. I want to know everything.”
Her mouth is open a little and she’s quiet. I’ve genuinely surprised her.
“I gotta go get Jake,” she says after a few moments.
“Get Jake. Then come home and talk to me.”
“I’ll have to think about that,” she says, turning her back to me.
I watch her walk up the stoop and ring the violin teacher’s doorbell.
She looks so fucking good. And what’s more, she’s my wife.
ATTILA JOHNSON
33.
Dead by Yesterday
I’m awakened by a terrible wheezing sound. I sit up on the narrow lumpy bed but my eyes won’t open and my head is throbbing. I rub my face and start breathing deeply. The wheezing sound is getting louder. I finally pry my eyes open. My vision is blurred as I look around, trying to find visible evidence of the horrible sound.
I throw the thin blanket back, stand up, put my boxers on, and walk into the hall. The sound seems to be coming from the room next to mine. I put my ear to the door and bingo. The wheezing is coming from the entrails of room three at the lovely Sea Breeze Hotel in Coney Island.
Suddenly, the weight of my head against the door makes it swing open and I nearly fall into a darkened room.
“What the fuck?” a raspy voice asks.
“Sorry,” I say into the dimness. “I got lost.” I realize this sounds ridiculous.
The wheezing grows louder then a light comes on and I’m face-to-face with the source of the terrible sound. He’s a thin old man sitting in a straight-backed chair. He’s yellow all over and his eyes are lost in folds of drooping wrinkled flesh.
“What the hell you doin’, fucko?” the thin man asks.
“I’m very sorry. It was an accident. Sorry to have intruded,” I say, backing into the hall. The man is wheezing even louder