A Marriage

4



“Break it up! Break it up!” The Warden shouted while twenty guards tried to pull us apart. I always respected the Warden for not just sitting in his office, and I think the rest of the guys did, too. That doesn’t mean we followed his orders, though.

I swung, left then right, and caught my fellow inmate in the jaw. I’d have finished him, too if Boris, or Big Ugly as we knew him, didn’t get his nightstick around my throat. With my eyes popping out of their sockets I put up my hands in compliance and Big Ugly spun me to the Warden.

He started talking before I started listening. I was too distracted by his blue pinstripe suit to pay any attention. He looked like a million bucks. I always imagined that’s what I’d dress like if I wasn’t in here, but I guess I’m just a sucker for the finer things in life.

“What’s the matter with you, huh? Get him out of my sight.”

“What, a week in the hole? Good! I don’t like looking at these ugly mugs anyway!” The impromptu crowd cheered at my defiance. They also cheered when a guard put his knee to my gut. They were a fickle bunch.

I doubled over and nearly coughed up blood. Big Ugly yanked me back up and the Warden strutted over.

“No, Mister White. I’m sending you to the Pitts.”

“That’s just another name for a hole, stupid.” Looking back I should have used some tact. I got another knee from the guard, another round of applause from the crowd, then Big Ugly dragged me off the Yard by my hair. The strain the big man was putting on my scalp made it hard to focus on where they were taking me.

Eventually he let me go and I dropped to my hands and knees. When I finally did look up I saw the Warden leaning on the cinder block walls finishing a cigar. It seemed weird that he would have made it here before us the way Big Ugly was moving, but that wasn’t the only thing strange about where I was. Before I could think too long on it, a guard blindsided me with a foot to the face and I blacked out.

When I came to I was on my back looking up at a grey-green ceiling. “Maybe this ain’t the hole.” I muttered to myself as I got to my feet. I looked around. The room was empty; no bed and no toilet. The walls were faceless other than one small vent near the top and white trim along the bottom. A weird touch for a prison, I remember thinking.

Then everything went fuzzy. I swear there must have been something in the air other than, well, air, because before long my head was spinning and I went weak in the knees. Then the walls went away.

The spinning stopped and I was back home; back with Katharine and Joey and Mike. I should have known something was wrong, but I didn’t want to, not after all these years.

Joey was eating his cereal and Mike was in the highchair giving his mother a hard time. Katharine was beautiful the way she tried to get him to take another bite. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in that messy way it always was in the mornings. It was all too familiar.

Then I looked down and saw the gun. I grabbed it the way I had done before. Then I shot. Bang. Bang. Bang. Then a fourth and a fifth and they were dead.

Next thing I knew I was running down the street. Sirens echoed behind me, then in front. I raced down a back alley and scurried up a fire escape. It felt natural. I felt the thrill and I knew freedom was close. On the roof, I kept running. Faster and faster, then I jumped. For a moment I was flying. I was a bird, able to soar away from everything.

I landed on the next building hard. I felt a sharp pain in my ankle but I kept running. Before I reached the edge I heard a door crash open and a cop shout, “Freeze!” Yeah right.

I jumped again. I was mid air when I heard the shot. Everything went black. When I opened my eyes I was back at home; back with Katharine.

It happened again and again, just the same way; just as it did the first time. Sometimes I tried to change things, but eventually I just let it happen. It must have been fifty, maybe a hundred times; then it stopped.

I was back in the grey-green room. It felt like years had passed. I looked at the big metal door, expecting it to open.

It never did.



2



Five months married and the fucking had turned to fighting. Oh well, I took it anyway. She pretended not to like it, and sometimes she’d try to get tough, but I had answers for that, too.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Jimmy!”

That’s how it always started; with Jimmy. I go by James and she knew that, hell she married me for god’s sake, but when she was mad I was Jimmy. Fuck Jimmy and fuck her too.

I remember our last fight. It was around ten and I was ready to go, but for whatever reason she stayed in the kitchen. The boys were asleep so I went at her right there. I started slow, but she wasn’t having it. I went harder.

She was at the sink. We ate three hours ago and she had spent most of that time in the kitchen, but the dishes were still dirty. Lucky for her I guess, or maybe she planned it that way. When I grabbed her she broke a plate over my shoulder.

I could have killed her right there. I did just enough to make her understand that. All it took was a look and she cowered back. I went to bed angry.

When I felt the bed shift, I made my move. I wrapped my hand around her throat and pinned her down. She let out a few screams so I gave her a smack. She quieted down and took it.

Her noise must’ve woke Joey because I heard him crying as I fucked her. What a faggot; just like his mother.

When I was finished I rolled off and she wrapped herself in the white sheets. She faced away and tried to hide it, but I could tell she was crying. I went to bed angry.



3



“Morning, Jimmy!”

James took a moment to eye the two as they entered but quickly withdrew in to his mind.

“You see that guy?” Officer Parks said as he took the seat opposite James. He motioned to Wayne who stood in his usual spot in the far corner. “That’s my partner. I’m not his first partner, you see, he’s a bit older than you and me, he’s been around. No his first partner was a man named this or that and he was doing work on the Cubans; they used to run the town down on Sixth all the way up to Cutten. Anyway his old partner turned up dead one day.” Parks leaned back and balanced the chair on its back legs. “It was an open and shut case really, we caught the guy, the guy confessed and we were ready to put him away, then we get told that instead of putting him away for killing one of our brothers, the captain says we got to deal.”

“Fucking bullshit.” Wayne played his part perfectly.

“Goddamned right! It was bullshit, but hey, we’re cops. If the captain says deal, we deal. Turns out the fucker agreed to role over on his bosses to get a turn in WitSec. Now my partner wasn’t too happy about that, but, it was what it was. Now, imagine our surprise when the guy turned up dead in his cell just days before his big confession.”

“Got off easy.” Wayne said without looking at James or his partner.

“The thing that surprised us most was that it wasn’t one of our guys. But it did get us thinking. Now, if a killer gets killed before he roles on another killer you naturally assume it’s the other killer that did the killing, and that’s what we thought; and we were right. Of course there was nothing to prove it, but let’s be honest; I don’t need to convince you the Cubans had this guy killed to protect their secrets.” Parks planted all four legs of the chair on the stone floor and leaned in with a sudden intensity.

“Every cop knew the Cubans controlled a crab joint over on Sixth. It was where everybody who was anybody went to meet and do business. Coincidently, around that time, my partner and every other cop on the force got a taste for Cuban crab. They ate it for lunch, they ate it for dinner, hell they ate it for breakfast, but most of all they ate it together. Have you ever had Cuban crab?”

James was doing his best not to listen. Parks stared at him till he answered. After several moments of dead silence, Wayne looked at James for the first time since entering the interrogation room. James was still staring down at the table when he finally answered, “No.”

“I thought not! Well I’ll explain something to you. If you eat at a Cuban restaurant and order crab they bring you a pile of crab with a ten inch carving knife stuck in the crab on top. Now I have no idea what the purpose of the knife is but what the hell, I’m not Cuban. One night, as usual, my partner and his buddies were at this crab joint when, wouldn’t you know it, the big boss himself, Angel Morales walked in with three of his most trusted associates. I won’t bother you with the details, but I will tell you that before that night was over those ten inch decorations that don’t make any sense had their sharp ends buried in every Cuban in that building. Being good cops as they were, my partner and his friend called in the massacre and reported on how those crazy Cubans got to yelling and screaming, then one said this and the other said that and before you knew it they all killed each other.”

“That’s a fine story.” James said softly.

“A story it was. The truth is, those Cubans were killed because they didn’t let us have justice. The Cubans took a turn doing our job by carrying out the sentence on a cop killer, so we took a turn doing their job by, well, fucking their lives up. But if eight cops say something happened, who’s gonna say different?”

“Not dead Cubans.” James almost smiled.

Parks burst out in laughter, “Too true! Too true!”

As quickly as the laughter began it was gone and Parks had his pistol in hand ready to put a bullet in James’ heart, if he had one. “They didn’t believe dead Cubans and they won’t believe you. My partner’s here and he’ll explain everything if this goes sideways. What are you going to explain?”

Wayne stayed in the corner as he recited his lines. “We came in, started the interview and didn’t get two words out before the psycho jumped us. I don’t know how he got the cuffs off, but it’s a damned shame officer Parks had to put him down. The worst part is the sick bastard’s wife and kids won’t get the justice they deserve.” James never took his eyes off Parks.

“That’s right. It would be a shame.” Parks said. He and James locked eyes. Parks was filled with fire, on the edge of rage, and James could see it, but he just stared back, eyes empty. “I don’t like you James. I came in here wanting to know why you did it but after looking you in the eye, I just don’t give a fuck. Now I just want to kill you.”

James stared back and let the words settle on the room. “I know how you feel.”

Bang.

James was knocked back by the force of the shot. His head cracked against the floor, leaving his vision blurred. He was still seated in the chair and lying on his back when he opened his eyes to see Parks and Wayne staring down at him. He looked at their faces, one then the other, then at the gaping wound in his left shoulder.

“I was just kidding, I still want to know why you did it.” James said nothing and looked up just in time to see the black sole of Parks’ shoe make contact with his face. It didn’t quite knock him out, so Parks sat James back up and asked again.



1



I remember our first date. He was nineteen and I was seventeen, so I had to sneak out. I thought my parents would catch me because their room was right under mine, but he just stood out there and coaxed me on. I couldn’t resist.

I climbed on to my windowsill and did my best to slide down in to his arms. The way he explained it made it sound so graceful, but we both just crashed to the ground. When I fell I heard something pop in my ankle.

Whatever he had planned for that night went right out the window, so to speak. We spent the next few hours in his pickup while he massaged my foot. For the next two weeks I had to come up with so many excuses for why I was limping around! James would always come up with the best ones, though. I don’t think they ever found out.

Sometimes I asked him what his real plans were for that evening, but he would always play coy and smile. That’s how I knew he was good.

About a year later we had our first kid. A son. Joey. I named him after my great grandfather because James didn’t like the thought of naming him after my dad. They didn’t get a long, but after my parents saw how he was around our son, I could tell they were starting to come around. I knew they still didn’t really like him, but at least they seemed to respect how I felt.

A few years later, when his mom passed, we moved south. His uncle would visit sometimes, and my sister came around every few months, but for the most part it was just us and our son. Three years after that I was pregnant again.

Maybe it’s the distance that healed the relationship, but James said, if it’s a boy, he’ll let me name him Michael, after my dad.

Most people think he’s a bad guy, but I don’t think they really understand him. I mean, I’ve done things I’m not proud of, and so has everybody else. Maybe we’re all bad people and James just doesn’t hide it as well. No, I think that, deep down, everyone is basically good. That includes James.

The best part is I think he’s going to ask me to marry him. I’ll say yes.