It had been a gloomy morning with eerie, gray clouds overspreading the sky.  The automatic timer set off the C.D. player in the kitchen.  “Hurts So Good” by John Cougar Mellencamp played— his raspy voice purred from the speakers.  Mandy approached the device, lowered the volume. 
          Down the hall in the bedroom, Derek opened his eyes, embracing a new day.  The curtains were closed, the closet door open, feathers of light on the bedroom walls.  Mandy had stood in this shadowy room last night— sensuously, erotically charged.  He didn’t want to let go of the mental image but there was a busy day ahead of him.  Derek pried himself out of bed and went to the kitchen, came up behind Mandy at the sink.  He slid his hand up the fringe of her lingerie at the hip.  Mandy moaned and tilted her head back, licked her lips.  “Don’t start, not now.  You have to go to work,” she said in a hoarse voice, trying to suppress the naughty thoughts burning inside her.
“What if I take the day off?” he suggested.  “See where it takes us.  I’ll even fix the furnace.  It’s long overdue,” he said, digging for a reason to stay, trying to persuade her.
 Mandy tilted her head, smiled.  “You’re outta sick time, am I right?”
Derek nodded, tucked in his shirt.  He felt a bulge in his pants and tried to ignore it. “True.  I guess we can continue this later.  Anyway, I’m on the homestretch with this job.  I can wrap things up with a good week, finally get paid.  It’s one step closer to the plans we had, baby.” 
Mandy nuzzled him, offering a seductive preview to hold him over.  She whispered flirtatiously in his ear while unbuttoning his flannel shirt.   “If you finish early call me.  I don’t leave for work until ten- thirty this morning.”
Derek smiled, joked as he fastened the buttons on his work shirt.  “I’ll do a rain dance.”

He kissed her goodbye, grabbed his lunchbox, and left through the kitchen door.  From the window above the sink Mandy watched him walk to his truck.  She blew him a kiss which he didn’t see while opening the driver’s side door.  Mandy filled a mug with coffee and walked into the dining room.  The curtains were closed.  A strong breeze had been blowing through the screens.  She lifted the dimmer switch and the lamp on the corner table burned to life, spreading weak light throughout the room.  One of Derek’s layouts sat on the cutlery cabinet across from her.  About three feet long, it was rolled up, wrapped with a rubber band and was only inches from being blown to the floor by the draft.  Mandy smiled, thinking that if his head was in the right place Derek would not have forgotten such an important document, and he certainly would have remembered to close the windows, especially with central air running all night.
“I better call him lat...”  Something collapsed in the garage, startling her.   She decided to investigate the noise.  Mandy walked cautiously from the dining room to the entrance foyer, noticing the deadbolt had been latched on the front door, making her feel safe.  The garage door was always locked.  She was certain.  Derek checked it every night before bed and every morning before work without fail.   She opened the door to the garage and laughed at her silliness.  She found that one of his hand tools had fallen from its rack and knocked over a jar of nails causing the noise she had heard.  She put everything back in its place.

Compressors and hand tools made a racket at Derek’s jobsite.  The crew was working on a three-tier building, each floor filled with bustling workers from various trades.  Derek had been toiling for months at this site and was near completing the outside walls.  His co-worker, Steven Jansen, worked across from him setting in windows and caulking around them.  He pulled a cell phone from his holster, looked at the screen.  “Weather’s supposed to get nasty later.”
Derek was busy measuring a support beam. “I know.  This morning the skies were threatening, surprised they haven’t opened yet.  It’s looking grim up there.”
Jansen applied more caulk in the window gap.  “According to the cellular’s report, by noon we’ll be in the middle of a downpour.”
            “That’s not such a bad idea,” Derek replied.  “I need a day to fix my furnace.  The hours here aren’t helping.  Besides, the missus was a little playful this morning, if you get my drift?”
Jansen smiled, caught a glimpse of their boss coming toward them.  Through the riot of hammering and machines the supervisor stormed into the room wearing a hard hat, his belly sagging over his belt buckle.  “All right, girls, listen up!  O’Connor’s out.  We need to pick up the slack.”
 A chorus of moans.  “For those who have a problem, feel free to kiss my ass!” the supervisor stated.  “We have a contract to fulfill.”
Derek tossed a hammer into his tool box.  “This is so typical of O’Connor.  That dick has been out six days this month alone.  Why don’t they just fire him and be done with it?”
Jansen walked over to Derek, spoke softly.  “That asshole is smooth, man.  If there’s one thing O’Connor’s a master at, it’s convincing people.  Smoothing over the boss to keep his job is child’s play for him.”
  Jansen scanned the room, double-checked that no one was paying attention, elaborated on his comments.  “He talked Randy Muller’s wife into bed last year, remember?  She had been visiting Randy at work on breaks. They were always affectionate right out in the open, like a couple high school kids.”
  Derek squinted. “And?”
“One day Muller had been working, and at that time, his wife hadn’t dropped by the site like she normally did looking for him.  So he sensed something was wrong and went looking for her.  He found her and O’Connor parked at the lake getting it on.  Do I make my point?”
 Now he had Derek’s full attention.  “So what happened?”
“Muller cleaned his clock pretty good, threw him a beating.  The rest is even more messed up.  Somebody here asked O’Connor why he went after Muller’s wife?  You know what the prick said?”
“What?  I can’t imagine?” Derek said.
His big answer was, “I don’t like him, never did.  He had it coming and that flirt wife of his was an easy conquest.”
Derek shrugged.  “You know what’s funny?  I can’t stand O’Connor either, but I don’t really have to work with him.  When I do, I mind my own business.  He’s not worth getting all riled up over.  I don’t play into his game like the rest of the guys.”
“You’re a better man than we are.  What can I say?  One day he’ll get what he deserves, or maybe someone will just not give in to him, putting him in his place.”
 Derek appeared distracted, his eyes floated around the room.  “Ah, man,” he blurted out.  “I forgot…”
 He searched the floor for his layouts and realized he had forgotten them, remembered leaving them in the dining room.  “Damn!”
Suddenly the ominous sky cracked open, rain and wind began pelting the jobsite.   Members of the crew rushed to cover their work with tarps and plastic sheets.  Derek hustled downstairs to the worksite trailer for a towel.  He got soaked. The phone rang inside and his boss answered.  “Hey, somebody tell Derek the phone’s for him.  It’s his wife.”
Derek ran up the stairs to the trailer and pulled the phone from his supervisor’s hand. The men inside eavesdropped on the conversation.  He stood in the corner, cupping the bottom of the receiver. “Hey, babe.”
 His supervisor was doing paperwork and had a cigar in his mouth.  Derek was still talking to Mandy.  “I know.  Thanks.  Luckily I don’t need the layouts at the moment.  I’m heading home for a while.  We’re rained out here.”
 The other guys in the trailer kept looking over at Derek, giggling immaturely.  Derek shook his head, continued chatting with Mandy.
 “What?  Oh, you love to tease, don’t you, Mandy?”
Derek walked towards the boss’s desk and finished up with Mandy.  “See you in a bit, hon.”
             Derek jumped in his truck, wiped off his wet head and neck.  He looked at the clock. 9:00 a.m.  He had plenty of time to get home to Mandy and send her to work happy.  He started the engine and began backing up. The boss came running down the front walk waving his arms.  “Hey! Wilson!  Hold it!”
Derek stopped.  That was the first time in years the boss had addressed him by his last name.
“What is it, boss?”
“If the rain lets up later I’m going to call you.  I’ll need you to come back and finish that wall, got me?  This job is very important, you know.  A lot of money’s behind it.  Get my drift? ”
“Yes sir.”
Derek sped away from the building despite the weather conditions.  The rain was coming down harder now.  His wipers fought to keep up.  He pulled out his wallet, flipped to the pictures; the last one a photo of his gorgeous, Mandy: her sapphire eyes staring back at him; a never-ending set of legs putting life into a short skirt.  They had been married for ten years and not once had the steam left their relationship.  They were made for each other.
 Last year they had made a promise to each other that after he finished his three major projects they would start a family.  Derek daydreamed about the idea as the wiper blades swayed on the windshield.  Derek looked up at the dreary sky, checked himself in the rearview making sure he was perfect before cuddling up with Mandy. 
               He made it home.  Since he had arrived earlier than he had anticipated he wanted to surprise his wife.  He tried to imagine which outfit she’d have on and how she would entice him.  He approached the side door, slipping off his work boots so she couldn’t hear him.  He tiptoed through the screen door and into the kitchen where he listened to the rain slapping the windows.  He made his way to the living room.  The place was dark and for a moment he felt like an intruder in his own home.   That feeling excited him, Mandy liked playing along too.  She always enjoyed spicing up their marriage when she could.   He made his way to the hall and noticed the door to the master bedroom was ajar.  He snuck in.  Mandy had a candle burning on the small desk next to the phone on his side of the bed.  The wax was dripping down the stem and flowing over the decorative saucer on to the floor.  The aroma of strawberry filled the room.  Wax huh?  Now we’re talkin’.
              Mandy lay under a silk blanket facing away from him, curled into her favorite position, her glossy blonde hair (from gel), spreading over a brand new piece of lingerie.  He smelled her cherry shampoo.  Derek was excited that she had picked up a new sexy outfit.  He loved the color of the silk negligee and the way the dancing flame captured it.  Derek slipped under the blanket and spooned his wife.   He stroked her hair, brushing the long strands over her shoulder, kissing the nape of her neck, and began moving down her back.  He ran his hand along her leg then up toward her hip.  
               Mandy moaned, squirmed—played hard to get by not responding to his touch.  Derek peppered her left arm with kisses, working along the shoulder toward her neck again.   He was ready to make his move.  He slid his hand over her hip and wedged it between her legs.  Suddenly the phone rang.  Derek hesitated, realizing it was no longer raining.  It must have been his boss calling him to return to work, and he was obligated to answer.  Son of a bitch. It was possible for him to convince the supervisor that he had some urgent matters to take care of before coming back to work.  Perhaps he could buy an extra hour or so if he pleaded.  Mandy was being quiet, coy, waiting for him.
              Derek picked up the phone.  The voice on the other end laughed.
“Boss…What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Sorry about the laughter.  Sometimes I can’t help myself…Derek.”
“Who is this?” he asked, annoyed.   It wasn’t the voice of his boss.
The man on the other end whispered.
“Let’s put it this way, I don’t like you either, so I left a memento.”
             Derek dropped the phone and it slid into the flickering shadow of the candle.  He pulled Mandy toward him, rolling her on her back.   A screwdriver from his toolbox was buried in her sternum, the handle pressed flush against her skin.  She was groaning.  He was shocked, terrified.  The whole time his Mandy had been helpless and her final breaths were escaping her.  How did he not know?  
              It took seconds for the shock to take hold, wrapping itself around his heart and squeezing tightly.  Blood leaked from the corner of her mouth as she died beside him on the mattress.   He jumped out of bed, ripping away the blankets.  He saw the red blotches on the sheets.  A voice still drawled from the receiver.  Derek took a step toward the end of the bed and picked up the phone.  The strange man spoke again.
“Maybe you should have fixed the furnace today.”
Derek screamed into the phone. “Why?  I’ll kill you!”
The caller responded calmly.  “Don’t know why I do these things, Wilson.  But you should know: Mandy was a tough one.”
Derek’s face was glistening with tears while he stared at the screwdriver protruding from her sternum.  He held the phone to his ear, it wobbled in his grip.  The voice on the phone continued.  “She fought me hard, but it was nothing a little poke couldn’t handle, know what I mean?”
            “I’ll find you! You son of a…”               
             The man cut him off.
“Now, let’s see.  I’m off to see Jansen’s old lady.  Ciao.”
           

            Derek blacked out and fell forward, his head colliding with the bed post.  His skull met the floor with a crunch.  There was a stretch of silence.  He was out cold.  Behind Derek’s prone body was a short hall which led to a closet, then the bathroom.  The closet door creaked open, hinges squeaked, and someone emerged with black, gloved hands.  The footfalls became louder as they continued down the hall closer to the bedroom where Derek was still unconscious.             The mysterious figure stopped, stood, waited.  One gloved hand held something in a closed fist.  It opened, revealing an object— Mandy’s wedding ring.  The intruder dropped it in front of Derek’s face.  The ring clanged, spun in a circle on the slick floor.  The stranger turned and walked away.
Moments later, Derek’s eyes opened to a sound of a screen door opening and slamming shut.  Derek extended his arm toward the phone.  He knew he was bleeding internally so he grabbed the phone and began dialing.  His fingers probed for the numbers, ‘911.’
The operator answered. “Hello, ‘911,’ what is your emergency?”
Derek’s world went black.   His eyes closed.  The phone slid from his grip.
“Hello?  Hello?  What is your emergency?” the operator asked.  “You know, this isn’t the number to call if you’re looking to play a prank.  Grow up!”
The call was disconnected.

The End

©2008 David Boyle