Passion For Her

Yet again he had fallen prey to passion. Once more he felt the agony of his soul overwhelmed by love. He danced and skipped through the streets, convincing himself that love had never been like this before. Everything that had gone before, he told himself, paled to insignificance. This was different. This was the real thing. He had grown up since his last infatuation. Now he was a man. As he darted between and through the barricade of pedestrians, nothing could convince him that this was anything other than true love. Springsteen played on his ipod, his heart burned, and a thick soft blanket of love draped itself over his head.
“You've been like this before son,” his father told him, when he arrived home in a bubble of excitement.
“I know, but this is different!”
“And it's always landed you in a mess.”
“When are you going to bring her home?” asked his mother.
“When she's ready,” he replied, suddenly doubtful.
Tony was the third son of the famous surgeon Dr Walter Caine. His two brothers had both already graduated from medical school and were busy making their own reputations, eager to earn the same respect in the community that their father enjoyed. Dr Caine saw no reason why Tony would not also one day follow in their straight and rigorous footsteps. But Tony's mother, more insightful than her husband, had her own doubts. She realized early on that Tony was far too impressionable, wayward, lacking direction and self-discipline. Privately he would confess to his mother that he had no interest in becoming a doctor, and the thought struck terror in her heart, for she knew what that would do to the stability of their perfect family structure.
“I'm sure I love her, dad,” he said again on another occasion when Dr Caine brought up the matter.
“What do her family do?”
Tony remained silent. He had no idea. All he knew was that he thought of nothing else but her.
Of course he did not know about the other man in her life. He remained hidden until Tony finally got a chance to get to know the girl better. They were on a park bench, ready to smooch, when Tony noticed a shadowy figure moving about in the bushes. He thought nothing of it, but on the way home he was sure they were being followed. It was not until Tony went back to the girl's flat later that evening that he saw him. He was a little guy with a mean face. He wore a cowboy hat, a red kerchief around his neck and sported a Mexican style moustache. Tony didn't like him. Though he was grinning, Tony could discern the most intense jealousy engraved on his expression. Tony immediately felt threatened and considered turning back. If only he had. But the knife was drawn too quickly. Tony had no time to react. He was left badly scarred.
It was Tony's father who fixed his face, leaving him with nothing more than barely traceable scar lines on his cheeks and forehead. It meant Tony was going to be scarred for his eighteenth birthday, but they were all grateful he was still alive. He hadn't seen the girl, hadn't called. He had made his mind up to go to med school and become an even better surgeon than his father. His mind was made up. His grades were good and he knew he would make it. The party was like a celebration of his future that was yet to be, his brothers congratulating him and his parents beaming proudly. There were over a hundred people under the Caine marquee that afternoon enjoying every minute of a happy occasion.
Then he saw her. The girl he loved. And she was with the other guy, still done up like an old cowboy. In a horrifying twist of fate, the cowboy had been invited by one of his brothers, buddies of old. And now he was at his party, and he realized that it had not been infatuation he had felt for that girl but pure and incorruptible love. Now it was he who felt the agonizing pain of jealousy which, coupled with the trauma of seeing his psychopathic assailant guiding her round the party, left him almost ripped up by terrifying emotions. He had no doubt he wanted to kill the guy.
He went to his father's study and found a weapon, Dr Caine's prized scalpel, given to him once by his own father. Tony took the scalpel, hid it up his sleeve, and then waited for the cowboy to move away from the crowd, which he did in order to smoke a cigarette. He left the girl and the rest of the party and moved closer to the bushes round the perimeter of the enormous garden to light up. Tony was waiting for him. He waited till the cigarette was lit and there were relaxed plumes of smoke rising into the sky, then leapt out of the bushes, strangled the guy with his red kerchief before performing the most outrageous surgery on him. There was only a tattered, carved up corpse left which Tony weighted and threw into the lake.
He cleaned himself up in the showers of the outhouse by the lake then returned to the party. He went up to the girl and told her he was sorry he hadn't been in touch. She was moved to see him, commenting on what a wild coincidence it was that she had found herself at his eighteenth. He nodded, saying it must be fate. At that moment, his father curled an arm around his shoulder and introduced him to a famous colleague, another world-renowned surgeon. They chatted happily about Tony's future medical career and he introduced them both to his girl. It all felt very good.
Moments later, the girl looked concerned.
“What's the matter?” Tony asked.
“I'm worried about Carl. He's been gone a while.”
“The man you came to the party with?”
“Yes.”
“Don't worry. I forgot to tell you. He told me he had to get to another appointment and to pass on his apologies.”
“The pig!” she said.
Tony realized that perhaps Carl's car must be somewhere in the grounds, so he added: “He's been drinking, so he left you the car for you to drive yourself home,” Tony said.
“Strange. Carl doesn't have a car. We got a lift with that couple over there.”
Tony looked and saw a young couple laughing together, enjoying the party, and shrugged.
“That's okay then,” he said, as if there was no problem, but he had left a grain of suspicion on the girl's mind.
That night he slept soundly, thinking about his life with the girl and his future career. Everything was going to be perfect. But in the morning he noticed that the police were scouring the grounds. They had dogs to search the forest and scuba divers to look in the lake. He wondered who had alerted them. It was only a small lake. It wouldn't take them long to find Carl. He must prepare an excuse, an alibi. Then he remembered that he still had his father's scalpel. In his joy at being reunited with the girl, he had forgotten to clean it and return it. He got up in a panic and searched the jacket he had been wearing the day before which was hanging up in the wardrobe. He searched all the pockets frantically.
At last, stuck in the lining of an inside pocket, he found the scalpel, filthy with dried blood. As he held it in his hand, his father walked into the room. It took Tony only a fraction of a second to realize that there was no way out of this one.