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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1381250-The-Accidental-Serial-Monogamist
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by jlturk Author IconMail Icon
Rated: GC · Short Story · Friendship · #1381250
Two friends revisit thier roots and discover the state of Washington still hangs people.
The Accidental Serial Monogamist
         New Hampshire and Washington State are on opposite coasts but they are connected.  They are the only two states that still allow for condemned prisoners to be hanged.  In New Hampshire hanging is only an option if lethal injection is not practical.  In Washington the choice is the prisoners to make.  Prisoners sentenced to death for federal crimes are all killed by lethal injections.  Thomas lived in Washington but had no idea that if the state sentenced him to death he would get to choose how he died.  He knew that his state still allowed capital punishment and he thought it was a grave abuse of government power but he thought a lot of things were grave abuses of government power.  If the debate came up he could get heated in discussing it but capital punishment wasn’t a real concern of his.  Capital punishment and hanging would be on Thomas’ mind and the mind’s of a lot of Americans soon enough but not yet.

The first walk through the woods each spring was the one thing that was guaranteed to make Thomas feel good about the world no matter what else is going on in his life.  Life was good for Thomas as he headed into the woods on that March morning.  Thomas was a smart man but he didn’t do much with his smarts.  He was a lazy, disinterested intellectual.  He concerned himself more with his heart than his mind.  He used his mind as a place to wander aimlessly through.  The untapped, untrained wilderness of his mind felt great.  A lot of people told him he lacked ambition but Thomas disagreed. 

The wind was coming out of the south that morning for the first time in a long time.  Thomas’s coat was unzipped and the warm air wrapped slipped its fingers under his tattered sweater, it felt good.  The fallen branches were too wet with melted snow to snap below his boots.  The squishing felt good.  The ground was still hard and cold it contrasted with the squish and felt good.  Little drops of dew, melting snow or other precipitation fell on Thomas’s head and slowly seeped through his hat.  The cool water drops getting caught in his hair felt good. He picked up a thick stick and peeled away the bark as he walked.  After the first couple of strips were peeled back the rest fell off freely.  The wood underneath was rotten and crumbled in his fingers.  It felt good, it all felt really good. 

This was an old woods but Thomas was living in another new town.  All his new towns were never too far from the one he grew up in.  Enterprise in the midst of a safety  was secretly both Thomas’ greatest craving and his greatest flaw.  Thomas kept surprising himself with just how good he felt.  At home he had a new girl keeping his bed warm.  He planned to get back home with just enough time to get back in bed before she had to leave.  He wanted to try to convince her to stay with him even though he had spent the whole morning out walking around.  She would have come with him if she had known he was going.  It was six am on a Tuesday he was supposed to be at work.  Their relationship was fun.  It was still very fun.  Everything was a big deal.  Every gesture was special.  Thomas liked it this way.  The start of relationships always knocked him into a giddy mood.  He pulled a handful of leaves from a bent over branch.  It had been just over six months since the last girl which is about perfect amount of time for all the cute moments to be cute again with a new one.  All the secretes had remained unstated long enough to have regained their power.  Thomas smiled wide and threw the leaves over his head.  They floated into the woods around him and he laughed.  Everything was smiling.

This time and this girl might be different.  Thomas really believed that and he was excited and scared by it.  It was also possible that this time it might be exactly the same.  Thomas really believed that and was both excited and scared by it too.  He foolishly believed that he had no say in the matter.  He had over ten years of relationship experience and still pretended that he had never really decided anything in the relationships that mattered.  If he broke up with someone then it wasn’t a relationship that mattered.  When pressed he’d admit that this was self-centered attitude but he was okay with that.  There was a large puddle in the middle of his path, he walked around it and the heel of his right foot kicked some rocks into it.  Thomas made this look unintentional but it wasn’t.  He laughed.  No one could see him but some uncontrolled part of his mind was worried about not looking cool.  Kicking rocks in a puddle wouldn’t make him self-conscious if he wasn’t walking alone.  His laughter grew louder then died.  His phone was vibrating in his back pocket.  He knew it was Boarders but checked just in case it was the new girl or any of a half dozen or so old girls that he kept in too close of contact with.  It was work.  Thomas had moved a number of times to different towns in the past few years but had kept the job.  He hit the ignore button.  His boss would be pissed that he didn’t call in but Thomas had turned a day off request in over a month earlier.  Max, I need the first reasonably nice day of spring off.  Max was paid enough to check the weather from time to time.  By the third call he’d remember that Thomas did the same thing every year.

Thomas was going to meet up with his best friend soon.  He hadn’t talked to Hefty in well over a month but he knew he’d eventually be at the same place they always met.  Hefty was always late and Thomas was running early as usual. His pace slowed didn’t want to stop moving for too long.  He picked a flat stone up off the ground.  It was so smooth.  Thomas couldn’t resist, he wiped the stone clean on his jeans and t-shirt and stuck it in him mouth.  It felt colder and smoother on top of his tongue than it had in his hand.  He moved it from one cheek to the other.  His stride became a slow shuffle.  Hefty would be late and he wanted to be latter but tardiness was not his strong suites.  The freshness of the air over took him and without noticing he was gliding again.  There was no point in wasting a good walk trying to be slow so he just kept his natural pace. 

The woods split open by a river of gravel a couple hundred yards ahead of where Thomas was walking.  There was a large rust red pick-up truck pulled off to the side of the road.  It was probably Hefty’s.  Hefty was always getting new very used vehicles that would break down quickly and offer him the opportunity to justify something new again.  Hefty was also gradually redefining himself as a working class hero.  Those were Hefty’s words not Thomas’.  The conversion from a proud gutter dwelling punk kid to a proud hard workingman came about naturally.  Hefty assumed Thomas would make it to but he never quite did.  He was never as punk as Hefty, never as radical never as anything. The full and exuberant embrace of things was Hefty’s thing.  Thomas appreciated it but it wasn’t for him.  The punk had never been fully drained out of either of them.  They had always hoped it never would. .  The only people who ever questioned their dedication was each other and that was enough to keep them constantly pushing to stay true to their pasts.  The picture of them still occasionally watching a band surrounded by people half their age was a warm one to them.  Punk rock keeps you young, they hoped anyways.  Hefty’s overtime, working out, wardrobe changes were beginning to age him though.  Thomas still got I.D.ed when buying beer.  Thomas approached the truck and a crisp smile widened on his face.  Hefty was standing in the bed of his truck leaning back on its cab.  He was positioned with a perfectly planned indifference that Thomas loved.  Hefty had practiced so hard at not caring all through high school that now it came natural to him.  His body always gravitated to the position of most apathy.  Thomas laughed and walked up to the side of the truck. 
         “Here.” Hefty threw a can of beer to Thomas. 
         “Thanks.”  Thomas had not intended to drink that morning but should have known better.  He popped the can open.  The beer didn’t mix well with the still fresh toothpaste in his mouth.  Hefty looped his fingers through one of the two empty rings in his six pack and yanked the four beers off his roof.  The plastic ripped along a line of perforations.
         “Mother fucking seagulls!”  Hefty was pulling the remaining two beers out the plastic and shoving them in his pockets.  “I honestly could give two shits about those birds, they are sea rats but because they are white instead of brown and they fly instead of scurry we redesign our lives around them.  And honestly who thinks that these perforations are going to do anything?  Do you want to know why they really make these things this way?” 
         “Yeah, I do.”  Hefty was out of the Truck and he and Thomas were hugging unabashedly.  “How are you doing man?”  Thomas silently scolded himself for asking the question.  He still wanted to know why Hefty thought they made the plastic rings the way they did.  If encouraged and allowed to grow a Hefty rant could become a thing of beauty but almost always died upon interruption.
         “Working hard and living slow man? How about you?”
         “I’m great.  Really good.”  Thomas phone was vibrating again.  He tried to ignore it.
         “Good.  You look solid.  Some day you are going to fill one of this hooded sweatshirts of yours out.”  Hefty laughed.  “Just Joshing you a bit.  Its good to see you man.”  Thomas reached over the side of the truck and grabbed the two beers that had escaped and they headed into the woods.
         “So why do they make six pack holders that way now?”  He glanced as quickly as he could at his phone.
         “Plaraggaft, I don’t know man, for house wives I guess.  That’s why they make most of the changes they make to products.  You know, gotta ease the trophy wife’s non-working conscious.”  Thomas and Hefty walked and talked. 
Thomas could help but to constantly turn the conversation back to the new girl who was sleeping in his bed at home.
         “Sorry, I keep bringing her up but she is just really special.”
         “They always are.”
         “What?”
         “They always are and before you say anything this one, that one, and the next one are always different too.  I’ve heard it all before and its going to end up the same as last time again.  You love to delude yourself. ”
         “Its not like I choose for all these relationships to end.  Do we need to go through the list?  They dump me man not the other way around.”
         “And I suppose you think that is 100% their decision don’t you?”  Hefty spoke with complete calm.  He had started planning for the conversation a few of Thomas girl friends ago.
         “What the fuck does that mean?”  Thomas knew what he meant but was going to be defensive anyways.
         “It means that you go through the exact same pattern every time.  I used to think you didn’t know better.  I used to want to tell you that thing about the definition of insanity being doing the same thing over and over again and expecting new results but I don’t anymore.  You like this pattern and that’s okay but its time to drop the charade.  Be honest with these girls and yourself.”
         “Are you implying that I like getting my heart broken?”
         “No.  I’m implying that you aren’t as heart broken as you think you are when they leave you.  The start and the end of relationships is all you want but you’d feel like a dick if you left these girls that early so you do something or another to cause them to leave.”
         “Okay, please tell me what that is because I certainly don’t know.”  Thomas had ideas though.  Most of them involved moving too fast, being too quick with too much honesty and other things that he felt were admirable when he was young and now might just be habit.
         “I don’t know or care what it is you do and it doesn’t bother me that you do it BUT I would like it if you got over these girls faster so I could have a larger gap of time with my friend.”
         “That’s bullshit.  Don’t pawn the decline of our friendship off on me.  You are just as busy as I am.  You are working class now, you don’t have time to be a punk anymore either.”
         “I’m still way more of a punk than you.  I always have been and always will be.”
         “Yeah, when was the last show you went to?”
         “That’s why I’m more of a punk than you because being a punk isn’t and never was about going to shows or knowing bands it about an attitude toward life.”
         “Oh so punching a time clock and working hard so someone else can get rich off your labor is punk as fuck?”
         “Ha ha ha.  This is great the lovesick poet is challenging me.  Okay, good.  Lets do this.”
         “Do what?”  Thomas didn’t really know what challenge he had put forth but he wondered if he could back out of it.
           “I’ll quit my job tomorrow and you’ll quit this girl and we’ll do something good.  We’ll actually carry out one of those ideas we used to talk about in highschool.”
         “I suppose I need to quit my job too then?”  His phone had continued to vibrate all morning and quitting his job seemed like a very appealing prospect.
         “Yes, sir.  Don’t worry I’ve got enough money to stretch out for the both of us.”
         “The Billboard Liberation Front is a really stupid idea.”  Thomas and Hefty had vandalized a few billboards when they were younger and this is the only thing that Thomas could think that Hefty might be talking about.
         “Yeah, but it was fun.”
         “You just liked climbing on shit.”
         “Maybe.  We are going to do something great this time though.”
         “What?”  Thomas didn’t know why he wasn’t immediately dismissing the idea.  It might have been his long unfulfilled desire to sing in a punk band.  Hefty was a good musician and he had musician friends.  Touring in a beat up van and meeting great new people every night sounded like a blast.
         “Psh, I didn’t expect you to go for this.  I have no idea.  Lets just agree to do it and we’ll work out the details later.”  If an agreement was reached they both knew they would be held to it. 
         “How long is this plan for?”
         “You mean how long do you have to do it before you can not feel bad for backing out.”
         “You know fuck you man.”
         “I’m just kidding.  Lets go with three months.”
         “Fine.  I’ll break up with her when I get home.”  They shook hands.  “And we were supposed to go see her parents next week so I’ll just tell Boarders I’m not coming back after that.  After my no show
         “Good because I put my two weeks in a week ago.”

         Thomas realized quickly just how long Hefty had been planning the whole thing out for.  Hefty knew just how easy it would be for Thomas to pick up his life and go so he worked on the difficult aspects of the preparation first.  When Thomas broke his lease Hefty already owned a broken old house for them to live in.  They spent the first week just drinking beer, reminiscing about high school days, over sleeping and pretending that they needed to do hard labor to survive.  Thomas found peace in chopping wood and building a giant woodpile next to the house.  Hefty built a chicken coop, even though they had no birds.  They didn’t really discuss their plans but it felt good to be productive.  Playing pioneer and drinking their days away was only fulfilling and fun for a couple weeks.
Thomas started to miss the company of women and started sneaking away to call his last girl with greater frequency.  He wasn’t supposed to have even kept his cell phone activated. When Hefty heard the phone ring and Thomas answering it one night the blow up they had both been waiting for finally came.
         “What the fuck man?” The argument was going inevitably start with those words.
         “I’ve got to let you go.”  Hefty was fuming and Thomas was trying to hangup.  “Seriously, I’ve got to go.  So be it.  Bye.”
         “So why are we out here if you are just going to spend the time talking to girls?”
         “I don’t know.  I don’t know why the hell we are out here.  You tell me what we are doing and I’ll do it.  So far we aren’t doing anything.  Did you have us throw our lives away to get drunk?”
         “There was nothing in either of our lives that wasn’t better off being thrown away anyways.  Jesus, don’t tell me you didn’t notice that.”
              “What are we doing now?”
              “We are setting ourselves up to do something great.”
              “Well, we’ve got a chicken coup, a pile of wood, a shit house and a lot of empty beer cans.  I can see how that is getting us prepped for greatness.”
              “You still haven’t given up your old life.”
              “Shut up.  Quit pretending you have reached some great enlightenment and are trying to bring me up to your level.  People don’t give up their old lives for nothing they give them up for the prospect of a new life.  You have offered me nothing here.”
“No people don’t do that YOU do that.  It’s just like the girls.  You don’t fully give up on the last girl until you are on to the next and not even then.  You’ve become pathetic and I’m sick of it.”
            "Fuck this.  I’m leaving.  You don’t even have a plan do you?  You built a chicken coup but aren’t planning on getting chickens.”
            “Fine.  You need to know.  You need that security blanket here it is.  We are going to arrest the president.”
         “Ha.”  Thomas had talked about the idea years before the current president took office.
         “Seriously, we’ll make a citizens arrest at his meet and greet thing in Olympia next month.  It will be easy.”
         “Great.  At least it is something to work for.  So we will take him hostage and lock him in the chicken coup out here.”
              “Shut up about the fucking chicken coup.  I built the chicken coup because I always wanted to build one.  I’m serious we are going to arrest the president.  I’m not deluded.  I know we won’t be able to take him anywhere.  He won’t be our hostage he will be a criminal.”
              “Okay.  I like it.  I don’t think we will actually be able to pull it off but if we can get some great media coverage.  Air America would be all over this.  Maybe we can even get a local cop to go along with it.  I’ll start writing what we are going to shout from the crowd.  What should we charge him with?  Perjury?”
         “What no?  This isn’t a publicity stunt.  We are American citizens and world citizens.  We aren’t going to threaten to arrest him we are going to. We aren’t going to tell any media and we certainly aren’t going to get help from the cops.  What is wrong with you?  You are such a pussy.”
         “Fine.  We are going to arrest the president.”  Thomas liked the idea much better than attempting to arrest any political figure that allowed for success or near success to be remotely plausible.  He went to the kitchen and got a beer.  “First question how are we going to get near him?”
         “Easy, I’m going to be going on stage to shake his hand and ask him what he can do for the unemployed lumber workers.  Here is the letter from the event coordinator with their rewording of my question.”  Hefty took a piece of paper out of his pocket.  “Oh and here is your question.  You aren’t going to have to ask it but it will get you on the stage.”
         “Wow.”  Thomas felt a little sick and a little excited.  “Okay so you are going to just tell him he under arrest instead of asking your question?  That’s awesome.  If they still want me to ask my question I’ll do the same thing.  Imagine their reactions.”
         “God Damn it Thomas!  You don’t get it.  We are going to arrest the president.  We are going to cuff him, read him his rights and try to take him to a jail.”
         “But”
         “NO! No buts.  Think of all the shit he’s done, all the people he’s killed all the people he’s jailed for nothing.”  Hefty threw a beer can at the wall.  “An empty gesture would be a slap in their faces.  He deserves to be put to death but since we are better than that, better than him.  We will simply arrest him.  We need to do all we can to get him into a jail and out of office.”
         “You are right.”  Thomas began to feel like his old self; three parts political idealist and one part reckless, senseless kid.  It felt good.  “How?”
         “How is easy.  I’ll go to shake his…” Hefty paused to think.  “No, I’ll ask my question then I’ll linger around and you will throw the cuffs on him when you go to shake his hand.  I’ll fight off the secrete service.”
         “They are going to fuck us up you know?”
         “Yep.”
         “I won’t be able to get hand cuffs in they are going to put me through a metal detector.”
         “We’ll figure it out.” 
Thomas gave Hefty his beer and went to the kitchen to get another.  When he opened the fridge he laughed.  He couldn’t stop laughing

The meet and greet was held outside of the state capital building.  It was a slightly foggy but otherwise beautiful day.  Thomas was noticeably nervous but he fit right in.  He was wearing a nice sweater and kakis that he barrowed from another friend, his black converse low tops only stood out if you knew they were there.  Hefty was shaking he was so excited which also didn‘t raise suspicion.  He was wearing black slacks that were about two sizes too big, a white button up short sleeve shirt, an old brown sport coat with a stain on the back and a tie that he tied too tight and didn‘t match any of the rest of it.  He had thought his outfit out very carefully.  They both were standing behind the stage area.
                “How is everyone doing?”  A woman in an overly starched business suit asked all of the people who questions for the president had been chosen.  There were eight inquirers and only a couple responded in any way to the woman’s question.  “Alright, here is your order, family values your first.  Family values come on up here we are going to get you guys in order here so there is no mix up once the president gets here.  Okay, people who has the family values question.”  Everyone looked at each other.  Thomas slightly looked down at his card In your estimation Mr. President just how much safer is the average American because of the war on terror?  He was very glad his question wasn’t a family values question.  The plan was for Thomas and Hefty to go out of order and so Hefty asked directly after Thomas no matter what.  A part of him wished he had had a family values question.  That the plan would be shot and he could get out of it by pretending he didn’t know what to do.  The woman in the business suit was talking into her head set with one hand over the mouth piece.  “Alright, who is going to ask ‘Mr. President what do you think is the thing that is most responsible for the break down of the integrity of marriage in this country?’”
            “I am.”  A woman said and waved her floppy arm above her head.
            “Okay, you are going to be first.  Who has the War on terror question?”  Thomas raised his hand.  “You are the finale question.  You are there to bring the house down.  In other words, you are last.  I don’t really care when the rest of you go but let’s work it out now so everyone is on the same page.  Who wants to go second?”  No one raised their hand.
            “Can I go last, well second to last?”  Hefty blurted the question out as though if he didn’t someone else was going to.
            “Sure.  Anyone else have any requests?”  Three people blurted out a request to go third to last.  Hefty sunk back into his folding chair as though it were a giant cushion.  Thomas’ gut ached.  The woman with the family values question began to shake, her arms crossed in front of her the fat of the arms flapping on her chest.
The president arrived and went almost immediately to the podium to speak.  His speech was short without feeling too rushed.  The crowd was large.  Hefty kept elbowing Thomas and whispering in his ear.  “Look at all of them.  This is going to be great.”  There was a small amount of media there; all local but it didn’t matter what is captured by a local camera can very quickly beome a national broadcast. 
            “What if something goes wrong?”  Thomas whispered.
            “Something will go wrong but we know that.”  He stopped to clap and holler for the woman w/ the flapping arms.  She was covered in sweat and her voice quivered when she spoke.  “Believe it or not, you aren’t going to end up taking him to a jail cell.  Its all about taking it as far as we can.”

The president was shaking everyone’s hand before receiving their questions and the questioners were moving behind him and just in front of the secrete service guys in their tailored black suits.  Everything was going better than they had planned.  Hefty couldn’t stop his legs from shaking he was so excited.  Thomas kept swallowing deeply and hoping something would go wrong before he went to shake the presidents hand. 
Thomas looked at the end of his sweater sleeves and swore that the plastic zip cuffs were too noticeable underneath.  They’d be easy to use and they would hurt on the president’s wrists.  They were bright yellow.  He let the tip of one become visible out the end of his sleeve.  He’d never make it to the podium.  It reassured him.  He felt relaxed until he leaned over to whisper something to Hefty and Hefty was gone.
“Mr. President sir, thank you very much for your time.  I really appreciate you coming to talk to us.”  The event coordinator was spinning her extended index around on the side of her head trying to tell Hefty to get moving on to his question.  The president was smiling widely.  “Anyways, little Miss Clipboard wants me to” Hefty mimicked the event coordinator. 
              “You are doing just fine and I appreciate you coming here to talk to me.”  The leader of the free world had a mischievous child like grin on his face.  He put his arm around Hefty’s shoulder.
              “You know Sir it is such an honor to be here that I can’t even remember my question can’t we just let that next guy go and maybe it will come back to me?”
              “Take your time buddy.  Who’s next?”
Thomas felt himself rise out of his seat and he walked across the stage.  The crowd receded in his mind and it was just Hefty and this other man.  Hefty’s eyebrows bobbed above his eyes.  Thomas wanted this but was scared.  He had cursed this president many times.  He had cursed all politicians since he was twelve and heard his first Rancid album.  His politics and musical taste had both refined but he still had a jagged ball of hatred for the man who’s arm was around his best friend shoulder.  He reached out to shake his hand and spun the president around.
                “We are making a citizens arrest!”  Hefty Yelled and spun to face the quickly approaching secrete service.  “You sir are under arrest!”
                “You are under arrest for crimes against humanity.”  Thomas got the zip cuffs out and onto the presidents wrists quickly.  He was shocked with how much time he had and pushed the president to his knees “and for treason you have sold out this country like too many of you p…”  Thomas felt a sharp sting in the back of his head and a darkness oozed from the top of his eyes until he couldn’t see a thing. 

Hefty had been training intensely in a verity of marshal arts for about as long as Thomas had been practicing relationships.  He was a natural and continually improved.  Whatever passion Hefty decided to embrace he embraced wholly and dedicated himself to fully.  It was another way in which he and Thomas were distinctly different.  When his situation became clear to him he chose to be hanged.  When asked why he chose hanging he said “Because fuck them.”

When they asked the president about it he said, “We were all taken by surprise.  I’m still not sure what the point of that demonstration was.”  He replied to the next question, “I can’t say I disagree with the state taking the life of this man.  He killed two brave secrete service men as apart of a prank.  I cannot possibly make it clear how indebted I am to these men and to the families of these men.”  For the next one he said, “Well, if the State of Washington allows for citizens to choose their method of capital punishment then it is this sick man’s right.  As far as the television rights being denied…” Someone off camera signaled to him “I have no comment on that right now.”   

The girl who had been sleeping in Thomas’s bed that spring morning visited him consistently while he was in jail.  She promised to continue to do so and to wait for him even before he received his surprisingly lenient sentencing from the very Democratic judge.  Thomas thanked God for politics infusion into the courtroom and promised himself that if she held up her promise he would really try to make it work this time.
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