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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Other · #1553253
The perfect crime.
Sleep was as elusive as a midnight Ninja. Jay was out drinking--again. Emma put the children to bed at nine and soaked in a steamy bath to ease her tension before crawling into bed. She lay awake waiting for the sound of the car that would warn of Jay's arrival. That's when the heart-lurching fear would become concrete. That's when the saliva would evaporate and she'd need to work at keeping the bile where it belonged.

Headlights fanned across the dark room as the car pulled into the driveway. The car door opened and before it could slam shut, Emma was out of bed sprinting toward the front door to welcome Jay home. Maybe tonight will be different. Please, God let things go well.

Jay burst through the door. "How's my baby? Come here and give your husband a little kiss." His slurred words and half closed lids exposed his condition.

"Sh-h-h, Jay. Please don't wake the children. Here, let me help you to the couch."

"Don't shush me you fucking bitch! You don't forget those damn kids a minute, do you?" He attempted to push Emma against the wall, but missed her and stumbled. "Always concerned about them, but what about me?" He put his hands around her neck jerking her to him. He slammed her against the door. "I don't need your damn help, you fucking whore!" He turned and staggered to the den. "Bring me a God damn drink and some food!" He collapsed onto the couch, the cushions whooshed in response.

Scrambling to obey, Emma poured sweetened tea and set it on the table. Jay slurped the drink. Then, he hurled it in Emma's face. "I want Scotch, damn you. Not fucking tea!"

She wiped the tea/tear mixture from her eyes. "I'm going to fix you that nice meal now. Just rest a bit and I'll have it ready in no time."

"That's better. That's my little girl." Jay fumbled to get his tie off. He threw it on the floor and unbuttoned half his shirt buttons.

Emma scurried to get some food together. A few minutes later she set a tray of hot roast beef sandwiches and French fries on the table, a semi-reclined Jay was asleep and snoring like a tornado coming through town. Emma covered him with her granny's crocheted afghan, and went upstairs to bed. She sighed hoping that her ordeal was over. Not nearly as bad as it might have been. She burrowed into bed and cocooned the covers around her shoulders.

BAM! The bedroom door jarred off the wall; the bedroom light blazed on. "Who did you have in my bed tonight, you whore? You couldn't stay and entertain me while I ate? Had to get your lover out of the house?" Jay's face scrunched up like a newborn baby's wailing his entry into the world. His eyes were bulging, his face purple.

"No, Jay, you know I didn't"...she was interrupted by a fast, hard backhand across the face knocking her back on the bed. "I thought you were asleep and didn't want..." he straddled Emma and began shake her like a macara.

"You're a damn liar. I know you had a man in here. You think you can fool old Jay, but there isn't a woman alive that can do that!" Slap. Slap. Her faced burned and her hearing went AWOL. "Quit your damn crying. If there's anything I know, it's women." He grabbed her arms squeezing like a king crab.

"Ouch, Jay, please don't do this," She attempted not to cry but it was a lost battle. "I love you. You know I love..." Slap.

"Sure as Hell better not spread your legs for someone else, because if…" Slap. "I find out for sure…" Jay cocked his arm for another blow.

"Daddy, Daddy! Stop, please, stop!" Eight-year-old Heather stood in the doorway. Jay looked from Emma to Heather and then back to his wife. Animation and color drained from his face. He climbed off Emma grunting with the effort and staggered from the room.

Heather scrambled to Emma throwing bird-like arms around her mother's reddened neck.

"Shush, baby. It's okay." Emma stroked her daughter's face and held her close rocking to an unheard tune. "It's okay."

Heather caressed her mother's swelling face with a gentle forefinger. "Why is Daddy hurting you again, Momma? Sleep with me, please. I'm afraid Daddy'll come and hurt me too."

"All right, Sweetie, but let me check on your brother first." Emma walked into Zack's room and heard the car start up and drive away.

The next morning was a chore of getting the kids fed and off to school. The kids ate little and said nothing. Heather couldn't take her eyes off her mother and Zack refused to look at her. Finally alone, Emma trekked to the bathroom to survey the damage. She teared up as she tested the bruises on her face, neck, and arms. Her top lip was busted--again.

The phone rang, but Emma didn't answer. It would be Jay and she didn't want to talk with him. Unfortunately, if she didn't answer, he would accuse her of being with a lover. This was his method of choice to keep her always at home. He decreed they only needed one car and he refused to give Emma any money. Jay did all the shopping and took care of any errands that might give Emma an opportunity to go out in public. He wanted her at home.

House arrest is worse than prison. At least in prison I could have some social interaction with adults. The clock's ticking sounded exaggerated. The phone rang again. Emma picked up the fifty-pound telephone.

"Emma, Baby, I love you so much. I am so sorry. Will you forgive me? You know I love you. Guess I had too much to drink last night." Jay attempted a half-hearted laugh. It didn't work.

Her muffled sobs broke through Emma's silence.

"Emmy, don't cry, Baby. Please don't. I'll make it up to you. I'll come home for dinner tonight. We'll put the kids to bed early. How about it, Emmy? Let me show you how sorry I am. We'll make love all night..."

Emma was afraid to tell him how she really felt. She didn't want to get in trouble again. She managed a hm-m that he took as agreement. Does sex make everything okay? She didn't want to be around him, but there were no other options.

"Gotta run, Em. See you tonight," and the call was over.

Emma sank into the couch and began to cry. The doorbell rang… and rang again. Emma didn't answer. Go away and leave me alone. I don't want to see anybody and I don't want anyone seeing me. Eventually, the noise stopped.

Thirty minutes later and the doorbell began again. Still, Emma did not make a move to answer.

"Emma, open up. I know you're in there." It was Karen. "Emma? Emma, open this door." At least I have a friend. Emma thought of their meeting. Karen heard one of Jay's rampages from her backyard right after moving in. When Jay slammed out the front door, Karen was knocking on the back door. They'd been friends ever since. Still, Emma made no move or sound. She stared at the clock over the mantel and watched a spider crawl from the seven toward the three.

"I'm going to get my key if you don't open the door right now."

No response. The spider reached the three and turned toward the two.

Emma heard the key scrape into the lock. Karen rustled into the room. She placed something on the table behind the couch and then sat down beside Emma pulling her into an embrace. 'It's okay. Cry it all out, Sweetheart." Karen edged a pillow behind her back and settled into the couch pulling Emma with her. "You've got to quit taking all this abuse. Why don't you leave him?" She stroked a stray hair out of Emma's face. "You could go to one of the shelters. I'd help you."

"I can't. He'd find me and kill me--literally. He has told me that often enough. Besides he is the children's father, and they love him. He's not that bad to them."

"He's a damn control freak. He'll end up killing you and I can't see how that will be good for your children."

"I don't understand why I can't please him. I try really, really hard."

"I know you do, Em. I'm not sure what you feel for him, but if you decide to stay or go, I am here for you. We'll think of a solution somehow, I promise."

"Thanks, Karen. Your friendship is all that sustains me."

"Being your friend is the easy part. Being civil to Jay is the hard part. Your usual peace offering's on the table. The florist brought it over earlier. They thought you weren't home."

Emma turned to look at the huge Murano Venetian glass vase with several dozen red roses. It would have thrilled her if Jay had sent them for the right reason. Now they sickened her. "He seems to have outdone himself this time. Usually, I only get a dozen." A car back-fired outside and Emma dodged an imaginary blow.

"I'll say he's outdone himself!" Karen lifted Emma's chin upward and examined her face. "Have you looked in the mirror, Emma?"

"Yes." She vaguely rubbed her hand over her face.

"The bastard!" Karen slammed a fist on the arm of the couch.

"Maybe the bruising won't last long. I'll have to pile on the make up for a while, but at least Jay will be a decent, loving husband for a while. He always is after the flowers come."

Karen shook her head in disgust and pity. She knew Emma was in an abysmal position: No where to go, no way to go, and no money to get there. Jay was an accomplished manipulator.

The next week and a half was good for Emma. Jay was sweet and caring and she began to hope--as she always did--that another brutal assault might not occur. If she could just be really, really good, Jay might not get mad at her again.

Jay suggested having Karen and Brad over for lunch on Saturday. An astonished Emma was excited that people, especially Karen and Brad, were coming over.....just like in other homes. On Saturday she prepared lunch while Jay took the children to his mother's for a visit. When Karen and Brad arrived, Jay was friendly and convivial. He pulled Emma's chair out for her, and reminded her about the doctor's appointment that afternoon. Ordinarily Emma was not allowed to venture out by herself, but Jay hated doctor's offices and since his mother had the children, he couldn't send one of them with his wife.

"I haven't forgotten." She smiled at Jay. He kissed her cheek before sitting down himself. I think you out did yourself on the lunch, Sweetheart. Looks great."

It was a pleasant luncheon and Karen helped Emma clean up the kitchen afterward. "I really hate to eat and run, but I do need to be at Dr. Nixon's by three-thirty."

"Don't worry about it, Em. We need to get on back to the house anyway." Karen picked her sweater off the chair and put it on.

"Anything I can do for you, Honey, while you're gone?" Jay helped Emma on with her jacket.

The creep, thought Karen. He's trying to look like the consummate husband.

"If you have time, you might clean the children's bathroom before they get home. Then, she remembered to be the perfect wife. "I'll still have time to do it when I get home. Don't worry about it if there's something else you'd rather do." Emma was having such a good day; she didn't want to spoil it.

"What would I rather do than help my beautiful wife?" Jay hugged her.

Oh, brother! I may throw up if this continues. Karen pulled her husband out the side patio door toward home. "Brad, I don't understand Jay at all. Why does he pretend to be such a good husband when he knows that we--of all people--know what he is?"

"Don't know, Babe. It's none of our business, so just leave it alone. Don't go getting mixed up in other's people business." Brad opened the door and Karen walked into the kitchen.

"You're a lot of help." Sighing, Karen began putting dishes in the dishwasher. "Do you even care how Jay treats Emma?"

"Would caring or worrying make it go away, Karen?" Brad came up behind her and nuzzled her neck. "I just know that nothing we do will solve anything. Emma's got to be the one to make a change. It's not your problem or mine. Hm-m-m, I hate to leave just when your neck is tasting so good, but I promised to help Ron over at the garage. So, I'll get back to you about suppertime. Bye, Babe."

"Love you." Guess I better wash some clothes while I jog. Karen carried the laundry basket into the utility room and began to sort the clothes. She looked askance at Brad's new pants. I wonder if bleach can get these grass stains out. Karen reached into the cabinet and pulled out her bleach. She turned the bottle over and read the label. Let's see. 'Directions. Laundry Use. Household Use. Ah, here it is, Removal of spots and stains. Dilute, mix, immerse fabric, soak 10 minutes.' Her eyes wandered to the precautionary statements. Wow, I can't imagine such a common cleanser having so many serious warnings. Hazards to domestic animals, keep out of eyes, do not mix with other household chemicals such as ammonia, rust remover, or bowl cleaners. To do so will release hazardous gasses. Use in well ventilated area. A niggle of an idea blossomed and grew.

She galloped up the stairs two at a time. In her bathroom she began rooting around under the sink. Eureka! She pulled out two rubber gloves and put them on.

Returning downstairs Karen carried the bleach into the kitchen and removed a bottle of ammonia from under the sink. She retrieved a quart jar and lid from the pantry where she kept her canning supplies. Next, she poured a cup of the bleach and a cup of the ammonia into the quart jar, hurrying to secure the lid while holding her breath. She shook the concoction and set it down on the counter as she went to call Jay.

"Hey, Jay. It's Karen. Have you cleaned the kids' bathroom yet?"

"No, but I was just gathering up my cleaning supplies."

"Great! I have some new stuff that's a real miracle cleanser. You can scrub that bathroom in no time with little effort. I thought you might like to try it." Karen's heart thudded against her chest wall so hard she just knew Jay could hear it over the phone.

"Hey, that'd be good. I'll run over and get it."

"No, that's all right. I'll drop it off. I'm on my way out to run."

"Sure, bring it on! If it is good and saves time, I'm all for it!"

Karen hung up slowly, considering. I can still back out. But, she didn't. She carried the lethal jar next door, never faltering. She knocked on the door and stuck her head inside. "Jay?"

"Yeah. Come on in. So, this is the miracle cleanser, huh?" With a beaming lady killer wink, Jay took the jar from her. "Where'd you get it?"

"Oh, it's just something my momma taught me. Secret family recipe and one of those I'd-have-to-kill-you-kind of things. You know the drill." Karen fought to control her voice. Her hands shook, her knees were weak, and then, she giggled.

Jay laughed back.

"Be sure to keep the bathroom door closed while you're using it. The stuff smells to high heaven and you don't want the whole house to stink. It's really vile, but only at first.You'll get used to it."

"Right, I will. Emma wouldn't like her house to smell. Thanks again, Karen. You're a real pal."

"Yeah, I know." Karen backed off and began her daily two mile jog around the neighborhood.

Jay walked to the small bathroom, entered, and closed the door. I bet Emma will really be happy with me when she gets home. His left knee cracked as he knelt to stopper the tub. He glanced at the door to make sure it was closed. If a little will do the job, a lot should do a fantastic job. He poured the jar's contents into the tub. Boy, these fumes are strong. Good thing...I've got...the....door...clo..s..ed. Bet…ter…ope…the….wind... Jay fell to the floor. He stopped breathing long before anyone found him.



AFTERWORD: For those who doubt the potency of ammonia/bleach to kill:
Often, one looks at a bottle of bleach and wonders, 'Why shouldn't this be mixed with ammonia?' If you know how dangerous chlorine gas is to humans (it was used as a chemical weapon during World War I and later by Nazi Germany in World War II), this will be very apparent.
To understand the effects chlorine gas has on the body, we first need to understand the chemical properties of chlorine, particularly its valence, or number of chemical bonds chlorine can form. Chlorine has seven electrons in its outer electron shell.
The Octet Rule states that all elements try to fill in their outer electron shell until they have eight electrons. When a chemical has eight electrons in its outer shell, it is then stable. Being so close to having 8 electrons in its outer shell, chlorine is quite desperate to get that one last electron - and will literally rip other atoms apart to do so. This is what happens to your respiratory system when you inhale chlorine gas. The gas tears into your nasal passages, trachea, and lungs by causing massive cellular damage. Obviously, chlorine gas causes a very painful death
http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/classic/A795611


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