Beloved Obsession

Rain pelted us as we drove to the church for Charles’ wedding. The sky was black with streaks of silver flashing across its expanse. Lightning bolted from every direction as the vehicle careened down the old country highway. The road was entirely smooth except for the occasional dip of a pothole. Fields of corn bordered us on each side. The stalks couldn’t be seen until the silver light of electricity lit up the sky for just enough time and light shown down on the endless stretch of corn. The wind that blew in the rows and the jagged leaves of the plant made the image of skeletons appear as if they were walking towards us with each flash of light.
Eerie as the surroundings seemed to us, it did not change the feeling of anguish that I felt towards Charles. His bride was of the most explicit beauty I had ever laid eyes on, surpassing all of my wildest dreams. I used to sit across from her during our high school days at lunch hour and stare at her beauty and marvel at the fact that God created such a gorgeous being. She would hold my hand and we would walk the halls together, talking about our day, laughing at whatever joke was said, funny or dumb. It was the highest bliss that could ever be taken in, until we graduated. We went our separate ways, keeping in touch very little. And now my best of friends has taken a liking to her and is to be married tomorrow evening. I almost despise to look at him for fact of being a pawn of his game of thievery.
The rain continuously poured from the sky as he drove and I stared pitifully out the passenger window, hoping for an uplifting of some sort. The skeletons of the field seem a part of me in some way, as if their listing walk matched my despair. I grew tiresome of staring at them for I could feel the stare of death coming from the lifeless sockets of their ungodly structures. I turned to look at my beloved friend Charles, chills of jealousy and burning anger welling up inside me. He was indeed my friend, a true friend. Not the kind that leave you for better opportunities but the friend of true type, the friend that sticks with one, no matter what comes between or goes before their friendship. He had been there for me when I lost her and still he had comforted me even after their engagement. Charles knew the feelings I had had toward Peggy, that woman of such marvelous splendor.
Ahead of us a split in the road could be seen in the dim light of the vehicle beams. Charles slowed the vehicle to an unearthly crawl, pointless to be moving at all, as we approached the division of road. Pulling out a sheet of neatly folded paper, he looked at me quizzically, as if I knew where to head next. He unfolded the paper and I could see the handwriting that was undoubtedly his scrawl of penmanship. He stared at the paper, hard, as if he was looking through it to the floor of the vehicle. Without out a word he looked up at the road and we drove on.
Had it not been for the continual sound of rain banging at the roof of the vehicle and the near silent hum of the stereo, I would have gone mad, completely insane. Perhaps I was already at that point going crazy. I was in a vehicle, an old, beat up, unpredictable station wagon, with a man that was indeed my beloved friend, my true friend, that deep inside my conscience, I despised with a fierceness indescribable to all comprehension. Taking the direction left of the division he drove silently on towards his beautiful wife-to-be.
I could not take it any longer, the silence between us. Turning down the radio, which already near silent became an overbearing stillness; I decided to open up with conversation. “Do you know exactly where we are headed?”
Keeping his eyes on the road he replied, with question in the tone of his words, “I believe so. I called Peggy before we left to double check on the location and wrote it down. I just don’t understand why we are all the way out here. There is nothing, that I can see, that is so glamorous that she would want to be married our here. It is in the middle of nowhere!”
I realized I hated the man now. How could he question his love’s desires? Why would he take her from me and not agree with her wants? I was repulsed at this man I now sat next to. I despised the slightest thought of him next to that wonderful creation of God, that marvelous wonder I longed to call mine. Lost in my thoughts, in my anguish and desires, I stared out the side window once again. The skeletons of the fields were still wandering to and fro with the electric flash of the sky, the wind of the storm. The fields on either side of us seemed to never end, no turns, no escape from this endless sea of walking bones. As if from God himself, punishing me for my putrid thoughts, a deafening blast jerked the vehicle to the right, causing us to ram the wandering skeletons, the hard, rigid stalks of corn.
Without a word, we both pulled on our raincoats and stepped out of the station wagon. We both knew what had happened. One of our tires was blown, the front right tire. I quickly knelt down, examined the tire, and stood at level with the man I now hated with a fiery passion. “Is there a spare in the back?”
I wondered if he could sense the anger I had towards him by the look in his eyes. In the dim light, I could see him pull his coat tighter around him as the wind picked up. “No, I had to take it out to make room for our luggage. You think there is a house anywhere close to here?”
As if for an answer a flash of light, different from the silver electricity in the sky, shown over the trunk of the vehicle. The light came closer to us, shining right at us, as if it was floating in midair. Then a voice came from the light, a crackling, shaky voice. “Is everyone alright?”
The light continued towards us, we then could see the outline of a short and hunched being walking towards us. In the dim light I couldn’t make out his face but he appeared by the voice and short, hunched nature of his posture that he was an elderly man, of much older age that both Charles and I combined. Charles took charge of the situation. “Yes, but our car is not in all that good of shape. We seem to have blown a tire and our spare is back at the house. Do you know where we could go for some assistance?”
“You passed my house just as your tire blew. That is what brought me down here so fast. I wanted to know what cause the blast. You are more than welcome to accompany me back at the house and rest awhile if you would like.” The old man came even closer to us but I could still not make out his features. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to know what this man looked like. He was undoubtedly fast about getting down to the car, almost as soon as it had happened. That had to account for some unruly appearance. And what was this house he spoke of? There was nothing on the road but endless rows of corn, inhabited by their skeleton aliases.
Still in charge, Charles asked the man if he would like a ride back if he directed us to his house. The man accepted and we backed out of the fallen stalks, the dead skeletons. With every move we made, rain water squished out from the creases of our now soaked coats and clothes underneath. The old man directed us to a barely visible dirt covered gravel road. The rows of corn surrounded us even deeper here than on the highway road, skeletons inviting us to join them. Further down the gravel road the skeletons disappeared, and instead lifeless trees bordered the old station wagon. Stiff, rigid, lifeless branches were so thick the flash of electricity couldn’t be seen except behind in the rearview mirrors, through the opening the skeletons now guarded, as if holding us in the surroundings of dying trees.
Ahead a faint light could be seen, flickering to and fro with the wind. Charles drove the car forward slowly for fear of ruining the tire even more than it was at that point. The rain started to die down as we reached the ramshackle house. It was dusty blue in color, chips of paint were falling off and areas of the house were colorless, as if the house itself was dying. The windows were pale, like slitting eyes looking into my inner being. The door was big and gaudy, the strongest part of the house it seemed. There was no yard to speak of although it appeared that there might have once been a neatly manicured lawn of some sort. To the side of the house there was a large body of greenish hued water that seemed endless. The entire landscape was surrounded by dead, rotting, lifeless trees.
Charles parked the car close to the door of the house and we ran around the back of the vehicle, grabbed our luggage, and followed the old man in the house. The inside was even darker and gloomier than its outer appearance. It was musty, an elderly scent, old and dark. The entire house was candle-lit. I saw no sign of electricity anywhere in the house. The walls were dirty, pictures hung askew on the walls; dust covered the shelves and old ornaments on their surfaces. The old man led us to what appeared to be a kitchen area, still in the same manner as the other rooms of the house. I looked out a window facing the back of the house, no yard like the front, the lake to the right, woods to the left, but a glimmer could be seen on the far end of the water. This was undoubtedly the most bizarre place I had ever been, a fitting place for my anguish, for my new desires toward Charles. Oh how I hated the man. With every second, my anger grew.
Staring out of the window I heard footsteps approaching from the hallway to my left. I turned to see a woman of such obesity she touched both sides of the hall, waddling towards the kitchen area. She was pale, sickly almost. Her eyes were a pale blue, almost white in color. She waddled to the old man, at who I now had the first real look. He was completely opposite this woman that stood next to him now. Crippled and bony, he was extremely thin and hobbled when he walked.
He lit another candle and set it on the dining table. “There, on the other side of the lake, is a house that lately has had some activity. They have electricity over there, and most likely a telephone that you could possibly use. But I only know how to get there through the woods. I can show you tomorrow if you would like.”
Charles, still taking hold of the situation, spoke up first. “That would be much appreciated. Do you mind if we stay here for the night then? I know we’re strangers to these parts but we are harmless nonetheless. Would that be alright with you two?”
“Yes, yes. Of course it would dear. Sorry my husband here must have forgotten to introduce me to you gentlemen. I’m Mary, Percy’s wife. I bet he hasn’t even told you his name yet. He’s so forgetful these days. Percy, thank you for helping them but you should get your rest now.” The obese, old lady’s voice was deep and much unlike anything feminine that I had ever heard. She was in a way manlike, more manlike than Percy, as his name was.
“I suppose you’re right dear. I’m off to bed then. See you in the morning.” The crippled, skeleton of a man said nodding to Charles and me. I looked out the kitchen window once more and notice the light that had been glimmering on the water’s surface was no longer there. It must have come from the house the old man was talking of, for the inhabitants must have also headed to bed, turning off the light as they went.
I also noticed the storm had ended and it was now down to a sprinkle. Everything seemed to die in this hidden area of the woods. Mary, the obese lady, showed us to our quarters and we thanked her and shut the door. We unpacked only what we needed and left our luggage almost completely untouched for we were to leave the next morning for help. I pulled on some flannel pants and a matching night shirt as my horrid roommate did like wise. We shared almost the same mind in taste. Same pajamas, same music, same girl; even though this conniving menace had stolen her from me. She was meant to be mine. The beauty and wonder that was meant for me had been taken.
I walked to the bathroom that was connected to our quarters and closed the door. I pulled out my tooth brush and tooth paste and dampened the combination with water. Brushing my teeth, I stared hard at my reflection in the mirror. Lines of anger had met me over the few days I had spent with Charles, my beloved friend whom I now hated so much. The friend who had always been there for me, was now my inner most enemy. I knew then that something had to be done, something that would end my anguish, my torment of watching my love with someone else. If I couldn’t have her, this man whom I so hated, despised beyond reason, would most definitely not take her as his wife. I would never let it happen in my lifetime. And with this new found urge to be the only man in that beautiful woman’s life, I devised a plan.
I went to my bed without saying a word to my nemesis and laid down, seeming to fall asleep. I even made the perfect affect of snoring, as if I were completely in a dream. I heard him close the bathroom door and reopen it in what seemed like hours. I could feel him walk to the bed across from me, for the room had three, what purpose this was for I had not the slightest idea except that it was for quests only. I waited for what seemed like eternity for the sound of his raspy breath to come to a snore. I knew then that he was in a deep sleep.
I slowly, very slowly pulled my covers from one side to the other, until my body was completely open to the air around me. Slowly more, and ever so silently, I sat in bed and turned to put my feet on the floor. I had kept my shoes by the door for easy access. I crept across the floor which was as silent as the grave, unusual in this house for the entire house beside this room creaked and groaned with every move.
I made it to the door, slipped my shoes on, and as quiet as possible opened the door which was unusually silent also, and slowly closed it behind me. I remembered that the floors of the rest of the house groaned with every step and slowly slid my feet to the edge of the hallway. I made it to the kitchen area and realized I was far enough from the rooms that I would not be heard stepping outside. But what if one of them were to hear me? My plan would be spoiled and I would have to resort to some other route of saving my love from this horrid man. The man that slept only but a few yards away from the very spot I now stood, plotting his demise. I continued then to slide one foot at a time, careful of how to shift my weight from foot to foot. I made it to the front door, the solid front door.
I opened the door quickly, making only a very sharp squeak, nothing to be concerned with. I left this door open and ran to the beat up station wagon, tire still flat and dead. I needed the car not to run, but appear normal. Of course I knew what to do, and Charles would never know what had happened to the car. Charles was the type of man that called repairmen and mechanics to fix his mess for him. He had no knowledge of vehicles of any sort, and I used this to my advantage. Quickly, I opened the driver side door and reached under the steering column, careful not to bump the horn. I pulled at some wires and with the knowledge that my enemy did not possess, clipped the ignition wires. Silent, quick, and just what I needed to stop the madman from keeping my love from me. I tucked the wires out of sight and back in their proper place. I closed the door, considerately not letting it slam. I looked around at the surroundings of the house; a lake of endless green water, woods of dying and rotting trees, a dirt road leading to a field of wandering representations of death. The place was perfect for my plan. Now all I had to do was get Charles outside the next day without the old man or woman following us into the woods. I would do it in the early morning, before anyone awoke besides Charles and I for he had always woken early.
I went back in the house, creeping as slowly and silently as I had before. I slipped into the room that was appointed to us and slid into bed. Charles was still snoring and was apparently sleeping very deeply. This was good news to me. He would awake well rested in the morning and most definitely be up for a walk. My plan was unfolding perfectly the way I wanted
The next morning I awoke to the sound of water running, most likely from our connected bathroom. I glanced over to see if Charles was still sound asleep in his bed and realized that he was getting ready for the day. Today was for him to become one with that lovely woman that was meant for me. He would never reach her; never receive her love after today. I would make sure of this.
I got out of bed, put on some clean clothes, and waited for Charles to get out of the bathroom. I heard the water shut off and the sound of the hand towel being pulled from its holder. Shortly after, Charles emerged from the bathroom in a nice cotton shirt and blue jeans. He was ready for this big day of his, but he would never have it, never have her. “Ready to go to the house across the lake?”
He looked at me quizzically and answered, “I suppose but didn’t the old man say that he would show us the way? I don’t want to get lost out there, especially on my big day you know. I can’t wait to see her. I was just wondering. Does it still hurt that we are getting married after, well after you two split up and all?”
I hated this man that stood before me more than ever now. I wanted to strangle him right where he stood and watch his body squeal in pain and suffocation, watch him take his last breath and never see the woman meant for me again. “I still love her yes, but I understand that we have gone our separate ways and she has found you. About the old man, he and his wife told me last night after you were asleep how to get there. I awoke in the middle of the night and went to get a glass of water and since he had gone to bed early, he was also up in the kitchen along with his wife, both sipping on some tea. I asked the old man how to get to the house and he explained to me it was easy; follow the water ‘til you get to the dock on the opposite side. The house is right there. We could call Peggy from there and have her come and pick us up, but the woman said that we wouldn‘t even have to go through with those measures. All we have to do is continue on the road we were driving last night and we would arrive at the church house.”
He believed every word of it. This was great. My plan was a success in getting him out of the house with out the old folks knowing what was going on. This was perfect. We gathered our luggage and slid out of the house quietly. We packed our luggage in the car and decided to start walking. “Wait! Shouldn’t we thank them for their hospitality?”
I looked at him with concern. If he went back inside and woke them up, my plan would be ruined. He would marry my love and live happily in my place. This could certainly not happen. “No, let’s not disturb them. They have helped us enough. We should be on our way. Even with this flat we can make it. We will just drive slowly. I‘m sure someone at the church house will have a spare. Too bad these folks did not.”
He nodded and we climbed into the old beat up station wagon. We put on our seat belts and he inserted the key, gave it a turn, and to my delight, nothing happened. He tried it a second time, a third, and still my scheme had worked. He looked at me, anger coming to his face but overridden with a sense of sadness. “It’s not working. Will you help me out and check under the hood?”
I agreed of course, playing my game, pretending to not know what was wrong. I was so delighted everything was going so smoothly. I peered under the hood of the car, acted as if I were actually checking things and walked around to his side of the car. “It appears that starter is broken. We’ll have to get a new one. I suppose we should start walking if we want to be able to see Peggy before the wedding arrangements begin to take place.”
He agreed and we left our luggage in the car. We started our journey to the house across the lake. I was overwhelmed with joy at the thought of stopping this menace. He would never take my woman away from me and live to tell it. I was consumed with joy. My plan was passing without a flaw. I would lead him half way and carry out what must be done. My sweet, gorgeous Peggy would never have to lay eyes on this man again, she would never have to endure his horrid presence ever again.
The ground was soft with the dew of early morning, the dirt almost completely solid except that occasional squish. On our right was the woods, decaying and rotting. It seemed before our very eyes the trees were dying. This whole area was crawling with death. To our left was the moss covered water of the seemingly endless lake. If we were to walk all the way to the end of this body of water, my plan would be easy. I would have more than enough room and sound barrier for my nemesis’ destruction.
We reached about half way around the lake and I decided we were far enough. I stopped suddenly, causing Charles to turn and look in wonder. I picked up a hefty good-sized branch and found another for Charles also. Handing it too him I said, “The old man said that it is always swampy up ahead; about half way he had said. I just thought it would be easier if we had something to help us along the path.”
He nodded and continued walking in front of me, as if taking charge of the situation again. He always wanted to be the best, on top of everything. That would all end now. I took the club of the branch and swung with tremendous force, cracking the hefty wood in two. Charles dropped like a falling tree, suitable to our surroundings I thought. It appeared that Charles, my enemy of great reason, was indeed dead, but I was taking no chances. I pulled his body, dragging the limp figure by the collar of his shirt. I drug his body into the water, the moss green covered water.
His body began to move and twitch; he was reviving. I would not have it; I could not have him alive. I hit him with the improvised club once more, hard, swinging with incredible speed and strength. His head dropped under the water and I, now consumed in the moment, put my foot perfectly on his neck, pinning him under the endless sea of green. Bubbles flew to the surface, breaking the moss in speckled patterns. The dying body began to struggle and pull at my foot, I pressed harder, crushing his neck under the weight of my body.
The bubbles stopped flowing, the hands that grasped my foot released, the squirming stopped, all at the same time. He was dead! My enemy would never see the love of a woman that was meant for me. It worked. He believed me and followed me, followed me straight to his demise. I had destroyed him, was rid of him. Now I had to dispose of the body before the old man and woman awoke. I grabbed the cold dead hand of his body and drug his lifeless form to the side of the lake, through the dying woods, back to the house. I was so overwhelmed with joy, with a passion of succeeding in my plan that I started to run, unaware of how fast my feet moved.
I reached the beat up station wagon, pulled open the driver side door and placed the dead Charles in the seat, as if he were driving. He sat, lifeless, as if he were driving straight towards the water. And so he did. With the car set in neutral, I gave him a good push and way he went. The car and he were like one, a complete dying mass of unpredictability. Bubbles floated to the surface from escaping air and soon died along with the car and the corpse of Charles, the handsome young gentleman that tried to steal my love away from me.
I walked back to the house and knocked for I didn’t want to walk right in without permission. The old man appeared in the doorway and ushered me in. He looked around behind me and then looked at me. “Where is your friend? Has he gone without you?”
“Indeed he has, he left me in the middle of the night. He took my luggage with him. I don’t know what I could have done to upset him, but he along with the car, are gone.” I stopped, apparently I had said enough. The old man walked around the corner and returned shortly. He had a pair of dusty jeans with him.
“Wear these. I see your pants are wet. Tried to get to that house over there, did you? I’ve fallen in many times. Happens a lot when you don’t know your way though. Hurry and change, I will show you the way.”
I hurriedly changed into the old dusty jeans, perfect fit. I thanked the old woman on my way out with the old man for their hospitality. I followed the old man around the house, through the wood and past the lake, past the site of my terrific scheme, past the end of my sorrow and grief. He stopped before the dock and I thanked him once more. I turned to the house and headed toward it. I glanced back at the old man to wave one last time and he was gone. I stopped and studied the surroundings. There was no old man to speak of, only an endless water of green and a wood of decaying life. He had vanished, or had he been there in the first place? Was he a part of my horrendous thoughts? Brushing the thoughts aside I turned to the house and walked to my sorrow less and grief ridden freedom.