curse

         Two men sat at a bar.  No, this isn’t a joke.  They were the only patrons currently present at Bonn’s, named for the owner of the dive.  Bonn’s isn’t a nice dive.  There is very little warmth and comfort and it’s not particularly inviting.  It’s poorly lit, the bar wobbles, the floor tiles are cracked and filthy, the place stinks of stale beer, the bathrooms stink of piss and there are loose wires hanging from the ceiling tiles.  There are holes in the walls for crying out loud.

         The men, one gruff, one raspy sat without a word for ten minutes.  Jerry is the gruff fella with dark features had a large head, a large stomach and broad shoulders.  He wore a black Adidas track suit with the jacket unzipped revealing a plain white cotton t-shirt.  Staring up at a seventeen inch television, he sipped his pilsner before returning his mug to the bar.  He brought his massive paws to his face and rubbed his weary eyes.  Not a man for jewelry, his wedding ring the only piece aside from his watch.  Jerry glanced at the Rolex affixed to his wrist. 

         “Almost one,” he informed Jaxon.

         Jaxon, the blonde guy sitting next to Jerry was a much smaller man.  He too, however, carried around gallons of beer weight in his stomach.  Jaxon’s hair was thinning noticeably.  He expected as much at sixty-two, what with all the men in his family walking around with bald domes.  ‘Better baldness than heart disease,’ Jax would say.  Who could argue?  Jaxon scratched a spot in the middle, the thinnest part, of his head.

         “You got someplace to be?” he inquired sarcastically.

         Jerry shook his head. 

         “Either of you fat fucks need anything?” asked Shelly.  She burst through swinging doors leading from the kitchen with a case of beer on her hip.  She dropped the box down next to the cooler, cocked her hip to one side and waited impatiently for an answer. 

         “Hey, easy,” the gruff voice of Jerry requested. 

         “Just bustin’ yer balls, big guy,” she flirted with a grin.  Shelly’s the only woman to ever talk to Jerry like that.  Her smile goes a long way.  She’s not a terribly attractive woman.  She’s overweight, albeit most of her fat seems to land upon her chest.  She carries around triple E’s like most women, hand always on her hip with her back curved to hoist up her chest.  If she were to carry her weight properly, she wouldn’t complain of back spasms.  She needs to remember to keep her shoulders back and her spine straight, but you tell her that.  She’s not the type to respond kindly to criticism.  In fact, I’m certain you’ll get a, ‘fuck you.’

         “So, give me a refill,” Jerry answered.  He cocked his head slightly toward Jaxon.  “You want to do a shot?”

         “I can do a shot,” he answered.  His thin wire rimmed glasses slipped down his lengthy red tipped nose.  Jaxon returned his spectacles with a slight nudge from his index knuckle. 

         Both men watched intently as Shelly shimmied over to the bottle rack, her ample bosom busting out of a t-shirt split down the center to accentuate her cleavage.  She poured each patron a shot of Wild Turkey.  Shelly hid her head in her elbow and sneezed.  Jerry and Jaxon each blessed her as their gaze dropped to a backside that didn’t quite match the topside.  Her rump didn’t exactly fill out her cutoffs unlike her breasts which fought her t-shirts for freedom. 

         “Thanks, boys.”  She brought the men their shots and began to refill their mugs. 

         Jerry downed his shot while Jaxon awaited his beer.  “Ooh, that hit the spot.”

         “Hey, uh, Shell, you catchin’ a cold?” Jax asked to hook the beer slinger into a conversation.

         “Fuckin’ September.  It’s allergies,” she responded to blank stares.  “Turn of the season, man.  It happens every three months.”

         “Oh yah,” Jerry confirmed.  Jaxon looked over to his fellow alcoholic, surprised at his observation.  Shelly shrugged her thick linebacker shoulders.  The men happily enjoyed the bounce of her bosom.

         “Need anything else before I head back into the kitchen?”  Neither alcoholic could think of a reason to keep the buxom beauty around for staring purposes, so they let her saunter off to a greasy, unkempt kitchen.  I call out the legitimacy of the health inspection business.

         Jaxon finished his shot and stared at the television screen. 

         “This Obamacare is bullshit,” Jaxon stated, as if his opinion matters.  Jerry grunted and shrugged his broad shoulders while Jaxon slammed his shot down with irritated authority.  The big guy straightened his back, reached his arms behind to the center and pushed in on his spine, loosening a few knots.

         “You hear that?” Jerry’s question came with a grin.  “I’m retired.  I sure as hell don’t want to pay for that surgery.”  Before Jaxon could rebuttal, the front entrance slammed open causing both gentlemen to jump. 

         Jaxon mumbled, “Vavavavoom.”  A lady dressed in a red dress and high heels stood in the entrance.  Her dark red curls danced upon her skull gracefully as she shook the excess rain from her umbrella.  “What do we do?”  Jerry ceased staring a hole through the stranger long enough to look at Jaxon in disbelief. 

         Returning his gaze to the lady, he whispered, “Just be cool.”  The strange woman walked amongst the tables and chairs searching for a clean place to sit.  Finding it, she pulled the chair out from beneath the table, wiped aside a few crumbs and had a seat, crossing her legs.  Her legs were bare, no stockings for this damsel.  She reached into her handbag for a compact and began adjusting her appearance. 

         “Ever seen her before?” Jaxon inquired.

         “Wish I had,” replied Jerry.  Returning to the conversation prior to the appearance of the lady in red, Jerry began, “So, this Obamacare, I read that over half the people opposed to it actually supported Obamacare under a pseudonym…Affordacare, or some shit.”

         “Huh,” Jaxon replied, his focus elsewhere.  Before Jerry could repeat his spiel, Jaxon scolded, “You’re still talking Obama with her,” Jaxon peered over his shoulder at the beautiful woman and continued, “right over there.”

         Jerry sipped his PBR draft before looking his buddy in the eyes.  “What?  I’m married.  Quit staring.  It’s creepy.”

         “I don’t know man,” Jaxon mumbled.

         “What?  You wanna talk to her?”  Before he could answer Shelly charged through the swinging doors.  The lady in red sat upright in her chair, uncrossing long, well sculpted legs.  Shelly took one look at the beauty in the lady and knew instantly why she was there.  It wasn’t for beer not of a reasonable temperature.

         Shelly was stacked.  She was bubbly and fun and good-natured.  Men loved her, literally.  She didn’t sleep with very many, only the guys she liked, but she did service many, many guys coming of age.  Twenty bucks would get you a few minutes with her hand.  She’d go down on you for fifty.  Now before you judge, keep in mind she made minimum plus tips, and quarter tips on seventy-five cent drafts all night adds up to approximately ten dollars.  It’s nothing to brag about, is it?  So, she’d take a shot in the mouth once in a while or pulled pud from a horny sixteen year old, can you really blame her?

         “Can I help you?” Shelly asked the lady in red, hand on her hip as it cocked to the side, an aggressive stance.  The look said, ‘don’t fuck with me, bitch.’  She was quite certain the man married to this woman was equally good-looking.  She wondered which of the two guys she had slept with recently could have rat her out to the lady in red.

         The lady in red held up a single long slender finger as if waiting for important information.  She didn’t answer Shelly.  She just began mumbling inaudibly as her eyes rolled back into her head far enough for the iris’ to disappear.

         Her eyes brightened once returning from the trance.  “What the fuck was that?” Jaxon whispered what everyone was thinking.  Jerry and Shelly stared in disbelief.  The lady in red grinned.  Something in that smile brought Shelly out of her own trance.

         “Bitch, if you got something to say,” she waggled her fat little sausage finger and swayed her round moon head side to side as she finished threatening the lady in red, “Say that shit in plain English.”

         The lady in red parted brightly painted red lips and answered, “What’s the point?  I’m sure you would not be able to comprehend the mistake you made.  I came here looking to fuck your significant other, but by the looks of it, you do not have anyone, unless it’s one of these two, and if that’s the case, I’ll pass.”          

         “Hey,” Jerry said taking offense.

         “No offense, honey, your wife’s a lucky lady,” the lady in red said without laughing.  Jerry ran his hand through his short, salt and peppered curls.  His eyes ran back and forth between the two women. 

         Shelly pointed to the door and ordered the lady in red, “Get the fuck out.”

         “Gladly,” the lady in red responded.  She arose from her chair, blew the fella’s a kiss and strode toward the door in long graceful lengths, the click-clack from her two inch red heels providing the only sound in the bar.



         Neither patron made mention of the lady in red to Shelly.  At last call, they quickly slammed down another shot of the Wild Turkey before finishing their last draft.  Shelly’s duties already finished for the close, she walked outside with Jerry and Jaxon, a closing ritual.  When Bonn closed, his dad an illiterate AC/DC fan, hence the second N, he usually stayed back to count receipts.  The boys loved Shelly, however, and happily walked her out at night. 

         When they got to within fifteen feet of Shelly’s burgundy ’98 Honda Accord, they could already see her tires had been slashed.  Naturally both men waited patiently with Shelly until patrolman Scottie Dukas, a.k.a. Officer Dork rolled onto the scene.

         Not very tall, not very bright and not very fit, Scottie was the cliché revenge cop, the guy that joined the force to get back at those that were mean to him when he was younger. 

         “Hey, guys, what’s up?” Scottie asked, with a big, broad smile. 

         Shelly immediately wanted to smack that stupid grin right off his pudgy face.  She crossed her arms defiantly and glowered.  Her hatred for Scottie ran deep.  At twenty, for the price of forty dollars, Scottie paid for the use of Shelly’s hand.  At twenty-one he arrested her for prostitution, the day he received his badge.  He found out he was overcharged and that didn’t quite sit well.  Shelly went to the top of his ‘get back at list.’ 

         The arrest made the newspaper which ousted her antics to the general public.  Now, known as the town whore, she can chalk this assault to just another one of the many problems she’s encountered with a scorned female since Officer Dork made his big bust.

         “I told you guys – someone slashed my tires,” Shelly repeated her line from the 911 call.  Officer Dork circled the vehicle.

         “Yap, that’s a straight blade, clean cut,” Officer Dork confirmed.  His grin broadened.  “Any idea who could’ve done this?” Scottie inquired.

         “Just before close we had a visitor…,”

         “What kind of visitor?” Officer Dork rudely interrupted with a question Shelly surely would have answered in due time.

         “I was getting to that,” Shelly glared in disbelief and continued, “This woman walked in…”

         Again interrupting, “What did this woman look like?” Scottie asked.  Jaxon began to rub his temples, soothing the head pain possibly caused by this man’s lack of manners. 

         “Jesus Christ, stop interrupting.  She was hot, big tits, round ass, long legs, a redhead.  She was dressed in red, had red lipstick, wore red heels.  She walked into the bar.  I asked her if I could help her.  she went into a trance, told me she was there to fuck my significant other, and then she left.”  Shelly held up her chubby pointer until she finished.  “Now any questions?”

         “Yes, you said trance.  What do you mean?” asked Scottie.  Officer Dork was confused. 

         “I mean trance.  Her eyes rolled back.  She mumbled some shit.  It was a motherfuckin’ trance.”  Jerry’s feet began to numb as the wind picked up making a two-thirty a.m. drizzle feel 20 degrees colder.

         “Yah, hey, Scottie, we all saw it,” Jerry tried to corroborate Shelly’s story, but said the magic word.

         “That’s Officer Dukas when I’m on the clock.”  Scottie gave Jerry the daggers.

         “Fuck this, you got any more questions?  I’m leaving.”  Shelly lit a cigarette and ran her empty hand through her hair. 

         “Yah, just one.  Did anyone actually see this lady in red slash your tires?” Officer Dork asked expressionlessly. 

         “Fuck this,” Shelly dismissed the investigation.  She began walking toward the road in a hurry.

         “Hey, Shell,” Jerry called out as he trotted after her.  “Hey, don’t walk home.  I’ll give you a ride, ok?”  Shelly stopped in her tracks.  Jerry, having only jogged twenty feet, hands on his knees looked at her with his head cocked through one open eye. 

         “Yah, ok.  Thanks.  Jesus Christ, you’re in bad shape.”  Jerry stood upright.

         “Yah, I could to lose a few.”  Shelly laughed.  Jaxon, already pulling out waved as he drove by the barmaid and his buddy leaving them to deal with Scottie.  “Here,” Jerry said as he handed Shelly his keys, “Start up the Chevy.  I’ll talk to him.”  Shelly wiped tears from her eyes and climbed into the passenger seat of Jerry’s ugly shit-brown Chevy S-10. 



         Shelly decided to fiddle with the radio while Jerry talked to Officer Dork.  Twisting the knob in Jerry’s 1996 piece of shit, she couldn’t find a single radio station playing a decent song.  She, like her men, wasn’t picky about her music.  She could listen to rap, blues, oldies, rock, r & b, country, top 40, metal, damn near anything, but tonight there was nothing but shit.  She skipped over Michael Bolton, Puffy, Hall and Oates, Garth Brooks, Brittney Spears and the Beatles.

         “I hate the fucking Beatles,” Shelly complained as she turned off the radio.

         “I’m not too wild about them either,” Jerry agreed.

         “What did asshole say?”

         “He said since none of us knows who the woman was, it’s going to be hard to find her.  Other than that, he’ll keep an eye out for a redhead in a red dress.”  Shelly shook her head at the hopelessness of it. 

         “Fuck it,” she had to laugh or she’d surely cry.

         “No, hey, no big deal, you just call your insurance company.  They’ll send somebody out to take a look at it.  They’ll confirm what happened, and pay for the damages.  No big deal.”

         “Great,” she said sarcastically.  “How do I get to work until then?”

         “I can give you a ride,” then to downplay his generosity, Jerry elaborated, “I’ll be in tomorrow anyway and I drive right by your place.”

         “You do?”

         “Yah, yer on Malroy, right around that bend,” she nodded suspiciously, “further down, make that left onto Toy.  That’s where I’m at.”  Feeling like he should defend himself, “I saw you get out of your Honda one afternoon, coincidence.”  Shelly nodded understandingly.  She turned the window crank and flicked her cigarette butt outside.  She had a second lit before she finished winding up the window.  Jerry watched curiously.

         “What?” Shelly growled.

         “Nothin,” Jerry turned his focus back to the road, a good idea considering the back roads of Western PA were full of bends and curves, raises and dips.  “Just, a, you a chainsmoker?”

         “What do you care?”

         “No, I don’t,” Jerry wisely backtracked, “just don’t recall seeing you smoke much at the bar, and people are always smoking in there.”

         “No, I’m just a little freaked out by that witch.”

         “Yah, what was up with that?”  Shelly shrugged.  Jerry watched her breasts heave.  “You think you might know the guy, that, you know?”

         Shelly shook her head.  “No, I don’t think it’s anyone recent.  Anyway, nobody ever really talks about the girl they’re not fucking.”  Jerry nodded comprehendingly. 

         Jerry raised his palms skyward as he asked, “I realize I’m stepping over the line, but why are you like that anyway?  I mean I look at you and you’re pretty, you obviously have what attracts men.  Why have you never settled down with someone?”

         Shelly smiled.  “Nobody’s ever asked me.”

         Jerry couldn’t buy it.  “What about that guy what followed you around for half a year, that jerkoff with the crew-cut?”  Jerry was really starting to get personal.

         “Samuel?”

         “Yah, Samuel,” Jerry said the name with contempt.  Shelly laughed.  She had a pull on her cigarette.

         “He told Bobby he was just fucking me,” Shelly answered honestly.

         “Brutal.”

         “Yep,” she agreed.

         “Then Bobby told Molly and Molly told you.”  Shelly nodded and tapped her tiny, ring-studded nose and pointed to Jerry.

         Shelly continued, “He found out about my past, you know,” she made a jerking motion with her hand toward her mouth.  Jerry laughed.

         “You still see Molly at all?” 

         Shelly nodded.  “Yah, I mean not as much, since she had the kid.”

         “She had a kid?”          

         “Yah,” Shelly laughed as she answered, “Why do you think she doesn’t come around the bar anymore?”  Shelly’s cough overtook her laughter.  She wound down the window and tossed out another butt. 

         “I don’t know.  I just thought they were doing couple stuff.  I don’t keep up with bar gossip.”  This was true.  What Jerry did know came from Jaxon, but he didn’t pay attention very well. 

         “Yep, and another one on the way.”

         “Wow,” Jerry said without any enthusiasm.  Shelly nodded comprehendingly.  Jerry looked over as she lit a third cancer stick.  “You ever want kids?”  Shelly shook her head. 

         “What is this?”  Jerry shrugged.  A few minutes of uncomfortable silence passed as Shelly finished her smoke.

         “I just thought we could use this time to get to know each other better, you know.”  Looking for sincerity, Shelly eyed Jerry as she lit a cigarette.  “Can I get one of those,” Jerry asked her.

         “Sure,” she handed the big guy her lit butt and sparked up another, “So, what do you want to know?”

         “I don’t know.  You’ve been working at Bonn’s for nearly twenty years,” Shelly interrupted his thought.

         “Twenty-one,” she corrected.

         “Twenty-one years and where were you before that.  You didn’t grow up around here.”  Jerry was sure of himself.

         “I grew up in Vernon.”  Jerry smiled.

         “Vernon, huh, I got an uncle in Vernon, Uncle Leon.  Leon Sparks, ever hear of him?”  Shelly returned Jerry’s grin.

         “I grew up right down the road from him.”  Jerry’s eyes lit up like fireworks.

         “No shit!  Small fucking world.”  Shelly nodded in agreement.  He pulled into her dirt and gravel covered driveway.  The continuous downpour since the close of the bar was already leaving puddles. 

         “Hey, Jerry, thanks.” 

         “Don’t mention it.  You’d do the same for me.”  Having not really known Shelly, Jerry couldn’t say that for certain, but he gave her benefit of the doubt.  He thought she seemed like a decent person.

         “I have to be at work at two, so can you pick me up at one-thirty?”

         “I’ll be here with bells on,” he replied.  Then he wondered why he used such a cliché, a girly one at that.  Shelly grinned at the thought of the morbidly obese man wearing bells.  Give him a beard and a red suit. 

         “You sure your wife’s not gonna show up at the bar and whip my ass for your good intentions?”  Shelly’s grin indicated she was joking, but there was a seriousness behind her inquiry given her recent debacle.

         “Nah, she knows she’s got nothing to worry about,” as he said it, he realized he couldn’t sound any less sincere.  He was sitting next to a woman he paid for oral sex.  Shelly smiled knowing his hypocrisy. 

         After another few moments of uncomfortable silence passed before she kissed him on the cheek.  “I’d invite you in, but,” she shook her head, “curse.’  Shelly reminded Jerry, “I start at two, so one-thirty, bye.”  The unbelievably easy, yet irritatingly cute barmaid opened the door of the shit-brown Chevy S-10 and climbed out into the rain.  Before Jerry realized he almost had sex, she was in the house.



         Jerry knocked on Shelly’s screen door at 1:26.  He was a little early, but punctuality never hurt anyone.  Shelly swung open her front door.  A towel was wrapped around her shoulder-length brown curls.  A second towel was wrapped around her torso.  Jerry couldn’t believe his lucky eyes.

         “Sorry, hon, I got up a little late.  Come on in.”  Shelly motioned for him to step inside her house.  “Jesus Christ, has it been raining all night?”  Jerry turned to face the downpour.

         “Yah, Felch’s bend is nearly flooded.  I won’t be able to go home that way, if it doesn’t stop raining.”  Jerry scratched his freshly shaven chin.

         “Who says you’re going home anyway?” she asked with a playful grin.  Before Jerry could play along, she gave up her poker face with a hearty laugh and said, “Just kidding.  Make yourself at home.  I’ll be out in a minute.”  Like every playful tease, she bared her ass rounding the corner of her hallway as she pulled off her towel before vacating the room. 

         “Goddamn cock teasing…,” Jerry mumbled to himself.  He soaked in her living room.  The house looked like a bachelor’s pad not a spinster’s palace.  She didn’t have curtains.  She owned one recliner parked in front of a television.  She had an end table decorated with half a dozen empty Miller Lite cans.  Dreary and raining, the overhead ceiling fan light was turned on, even at 1:30 in afternoon.  Jerry could see one of the lights was burnt out through the glass.  On the bar counter separating the living room from the world’s smallest kitchen, sat an empty fish bowl.  It was hard for Jerry to focus on the trivial shit in Shelly’s living room with a naked Shelly nearby. 

         “Meow,” a cat emerged from behind the recliner.

         “Jesus,” Jerry gasped.  His heart raced.  “Finally, a sign that a female lives here.”  A dude would have no need to fill the companionship role with a cat, a dog maybe, but not a cat.  At the very least, the cat gave Jerry something to think about other than Shelly.  “So, you’re Shelly’s pussy?”  Jerry scooped up the tiny feline, looking even smaller in Jerry’s mighty paws. 

         “Get your hands off my pussy!” Shelly jokingly ordered.  Jerry jumped and put down the kitty.  “Jesus, Jerry, just bustin’ your balls.”  Shelly walked by the big fella toward the door.  She was stuffed into a pair of acid washed jeans with holes in the knees and one on the right side of her crotch nearly revealing gold.  The t-shirt she was wearing was equally tattered and as per the usual, split down the center.  The eyeliner was on thick and her blue eyes were hauntingly beautiful.  Jerry wasn’t certain of the perfume she used, but he thought she smelled like money. 

         “Ready?”  Jerry asked.  He hoped she’d find something to return for, delaying their time alone in her house together.         

         “Yep,” she replied as she applied black lipstick to her thick, full juicy lips.  She blotted on a napkin and discarded it onto her end table.  “Let’s go, stud.”

         “Wow, you look great,” he couldn’t help himself but compliment her.

         “Easy, Jer, we’re not on a date, yer just takin’ me to work.”

         “Right.  Gotcha.  Sure I knew that.”  He chuckled.  Shelly grabbed her leather motorcycle jacket, an accidental left behind that fit perfectly.  Call it a bonus.  Then she ushered Jerry out the door.  Knowing her neighbors and not having anything to steal, she left the door unlocked, as do many in the area. 



         “I guess white was the wrong color shirt to wear,” she said knowing most of her t-shirts were white for just such occasions.  Jerry shrugged.

         “Depends on the outcome and the intent.”  Jerry’s eyes were glued to the exposed nipple area to which she was referring.  Shelly laughed and playfully slapped Jerry’s arm.  She then turned her focus to the radio and began fidgeting with the dial.  Coming to an oldie but a goodie, she began to sing along with The Jesus and Mary Chain.

         “Listen to the girl, as she takes on the half the world…and the honey drippin’…it’s good, so good, so good, it’s so good…I’ll be your plastic toy, I’ll be your plastic toy, for you…,” as the song began its solo, Shelly quit moving and shaking along with the rhythm.  “Don’t you just love this song?  It makes me wanna fuck.” 

         “Yah, it’s ok,” Jerry said having never heard the song before and knowing it.  Changing the subject, he observed, “Wow, boy, you’re in a chipper mood.”

         “I had a visitor last night,” she said without shame.  The thought of it must have invoked pleasant memories as she lit up a cigarette in remembrance.  She turned the window crank down, cracking the window.  Jerry raised his palms to the air.

         “What happened to the curse?”  He was a little hurt.

         “Oh, well, he’s a dirty bugger.”  She shrugged her, and apparently his, indifference.  Seeing the obvious pain in his face, she realized he really missed out on something that would have been fucking amazing for him, she offered, “Don’t worry, we can party tonight.”

         “Really?”  Jerry brightened up immediately. 

         She grinned knowing she was making his day, perhaps life.  “Sure,” she answered.  “Unless you got somewhere else to be?”  She gave him the ethical out he needed.

         Jerry shook his head, “Nope.”  He was definitely going to sleep with Shelly.  He wasn’t sure if he was going to tell Jaxon or not, but he was definitely going to sleep with Shelly.  Jaxon might say something crude to her.  He was definitely not going to tell Jaxon until after he slept with Shelly, maybe not even then.  “Fuck.”  Jerry turned the steering wheel abruptly to his left, but it was too late.



         “Welcome back,” Shelly said with a grin.  Jerry looked around his environment. 

         “What the fuck?”

         “It’s bad,” she confessed and laughed nervously.  She continued, “The truck lost traction,” she was careful to not blame him, “and we flipped over the guardrail.  You slammed your head off the roof.  Then we flew down this hill where the truck got lodged between these two trees.” The water was up to their waist.  “You banged your head off the steering wheel.” 

         “Fuck.”  Jerry winced as he touched his tender areas.  He was afraid of the answer, but asked, “Are we stuck?”

         “We are going to die here.”  She nodded solemnly.  The front of the truck was submerged in water.  They dangled just above the rising water line.  They were both too large to maneuver around in the truck to get enough leverage to bust out the front window.  Even if they could blow out the back window, neither could fit through the opening.  They were fucked. 

         “Someone will see us and call for help.”

         Shelly shook her head.  Her eyeliner was dripping down the center of her plump face cheeks.  “It’s already dark.  We dropped thirty feet; we’re not visible from the road.”

         “How long you been thinkin’ about this?”  Jerry was bleeding from a cut in his forehead. 

           “Long time.”  Jerry wanted to put his arm around her, but couldn’t reach.  Besides his hand hurt like hell.  He must have smacked it off of something during the accident. 

         Jerry began to sob and mutter,” I deserve this for what I was about to do and happily do, but you don’t deserve this.  I’m so sorry, Shelly.  I’m so sorry.  You’re so giving and wonderful.  I’m sorry.”

         “I don’t deserve this?” She asked assuming she did.  “I’m pretty sure it’s my curse that got you into this.”

         “You don’t believe that nonsense do you?”

         “Not any more than you should believe that you deserve this fate more than I,” she answered.  The water was up to their chest and rising rapidly.  “I’m just a slut.”

         “You’re a saint.”

         “Saint Slut,” she conceded.  They chuckled.  Finally she began to cry.  She covered her eyes.

         “Hey, you are not that.  You are a wonderful giving woman, and we’re all glad for having known you.  You’ll be missed, believe it or not.”  Jerry reassured her as best as he could.

         “You will too, you know.”

         “Aaah,” he dismissed.

         “Your wife.  Your daughter.”

         “My daughter doesn’t speak to me…something racist I said about her boyfriend,” he shook his head and continued, “Something I didn’t even mean.  Just said it…can’t say why.”  He shrugged his broad shoulders, now nearly under water. 

         “I’m sorry.  Still you’re her daddy.  She’ll miss you.”

         “Ellen will miss me…for a little while.  She’ll remarry…Jaxon maybe.”

         “Jaxon?”

         “Why not?  They’ll both be single, mourning over me one night, who knows?”

         “You’re nuts.”  She smiled.

         “Wow, it’s filling quickly,” he began to stutter his words as the chill set in his mouth became uncontrollable.

         “I’d rather have it that way.  Beats waiting all night for death.”  Shelly was having the same chatter problem with her teeth.  They sat in uncomfortable silence as the water rose.  Jerry began to realize it was silly of him to be sitting there holding the urine in his bladder, and relieved himself in his pants.  He felt a little better.  Once the water rose above their lips, Jerry reached for Shelly.  He groped around her chest a bit before finding what he was after – her hand. 

         They must have looked like lovers – sitting there, holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes beneath the water charging into the afterlife together.  I wonder what the town will have to say. 

5000 words