The Dirty Sock

Winning entry in Writer's Cramp contest 10/04/09: Write a poem or story about dirty socks.
Word Count: now 1119(originally 996) [Note: changed the ending a bit, added to it actually now that I don't have a 1000 word limit]


Janice walked into her bedroom after a long day waiting tables at Denny’s. The bed was unmade; a pillow was half on the bed, half on the nightstand; empty beer bottles and two empty Lifestyle condom wrappers were on the other. She opened the closet and kicked off her white sneakers, her feet throbbing.

She’d told him to clean up before going to work but she knew she couldn’t count on him. He wasn’t lazy, he worked hard but the man never helped around the house. She thought, again, about kicking him out of her life as she gathered up the mess on the nightstand, rolling up the wrappers and sticking them down the neck of a bottle before dumping everything into a trash bag.

The bed looked like they’d fought in it all night. After she fixed it, there were lumps near the foot of the bed and when she stuffed her hand under the covers, she pulled out his socks and underwear. Goddamn slob.

She heard Brian come into the house and close the door, his footsteps leading him to the kitchen. When she walked in to meet him, he said, “Hi, love.”

“Hi, yourself.”

He picked up on her annoyance as he pulled a Coke from the fridge. “You upset about something?” he said, taking off the holstered pistol clipped to his right side and the detective badge clipped to his left front. He laid everything on the kitchen counter and then grabbed a bottle of Bacardi next to the microwave.

“You and your rum and Cokes,” she said. “Can’t you ever drink anything without booze in it?”

“Yeah. I drink beer.”

“You can be a real asshole sometimes.”

He looked at her strangely while he put together his drink and stirred it with his finger. He took a sip and said, “Did I miss something? Did you have a bad day at work?”

“Yes, I had a bad day at work and then I came home and found the bedroom upside down. You can’t do a damn thing around here to help out. I know you work but I work too, you know?”

“Sorry.”

She smiled but it was one of those crazy, I-can’t-believe-what-I’m-hearing smiles. “Sorry? You know what you can do with your sorry.”

He took a long drink. “Uh, stick it up my—”

She crossed her arms and shook her head. “What goes through your mind when you see a mess? How can you just ignore it? Doesn’t something go off in your head when you see crap lying around?”

Brian didn’t say anything. He just glared at her.

“When you see dirty socks on the bathroom floor, does anything ever compel you to bend down, pick them up and throw them in the hamper? What goes through your mind?”

He charged her. “You wanna know what I think about when I see dirty socks? Huh? Do you?” he yelled, in her face. When she backed herself up to the wall, he planted his large hands on either side of her shoulders so she couldn’t get away. “You wanna—” He took a deep breath and took his voice down a few notches. “Let me tell you what I think about when I see a dirty sock. I think of Mary Beth Cruz, nineteen year old girl, just started college. Her boyfriend worked at a local garage.

“Ten years ago, she wanted to get her man something for his birthday and when she sees a co-worker of his at a Wal-Mart, she goes up to him and asks what she should get him. Tells him she wants to surprise the boyfriend. The man tells her he’s selling a tool set that’s fairly new and it would be a great present for her boyfriend. He gives her his address and tells her to go by and check it out the next day.

“So Mary Beth goes by his house. He invites her in and then… proceeds to beat, bind and rape her. During the ordeal, he injects her with cocaine, violates her in every way.”

Brian backed off from her and leaned back against the kitchen counter. 

“We get a call later that day that this girl is missing. Her friends and family don’t want to believe it. She’d been a homecoming queen the year before, she was in her first semester at the local college. This kid had her whole life ahead of her but some animal just took what he wanted, not giving a damn about anything, never considering that this girl was someone’s daughter or sister.

“Four days later, my partner and I followed a lead which brought us to the co-worker’s house and as soon as we stepped out of the unit, we could smell something wasn’t right. We followed our noses to the trunk of a brown Pontiac parked in the driveway. No one was home so we had to get a warrant to pop the trunk even though we knew she was in there. When we got the trunk open, we found her wrapped in an orange blanket. To this day I can still see those lifeless, brown eyes like it was yesterday.

“I sat in on the autopsy. Cause of death was asphyxiation. The son of a bitch had stuffed a dirty sock so far into her mouth that she ended up choking on it. Hell, I imagine he’d have strangled her anyway.”

The central air unit turned on and cool air blew in through the ceiling vents.

He picked up his glass and said, “So, in answer to your question, dirty socks remind me that life is cheap. And for some, life’s much too short.”

She stood silent for a bit, stunned, listening to ice clink inside his glass as he polished off the rest of the concoction, setting it down on the counter. She eased up to him and placed her hand on his chest, not saying anything; not needing to.

He put his hands on her hips and said, “Baby, you know I love you. Yes, I’m a slob. If there’s a Slobs Anonymous around here, go ahead and sign me up.”

She grinned but it wasn’t very convincing. He kissed her softly. She could taste more rum than Coke.

“I’m sorry for sharing the case with you. That stuff’s not for you to know,” he said, brushing a brown, wavy lock of hair out of her bright, hazel eyes.

“You can’t go around keeping all that stuff locked up inside of you. You need to let it out.”

“But not like this.” He stroked her delicate cheek with his thumb. “I was wrong to bring it up.”

“Well, I know I can be—”

He rested a finger on her lips for a moment, then put the glass in the sink and took his work gear to the bedroom closet.