12:51 A.M.

He wanted so badly to kill her, to give her the gift of eternity. Just end her life and be done with it. No more explaining where he was; no more questioning her whereabouts. He could be free. He could go out drinking and not worry about putting his ring back on. He could have as many women as he wanted. They wanted him, too, and if she was gone, he could have them all. He could stop wondering if his wife would catch him. He could stop wondering what she was doing, out with her friends, when he was at home. He could have a life. He just wanted to be done with the whole thing. This life. The life they had made. He wanted it to be over with. His heart was pumping fast now. No doubt hers was, too.

The bathroom was cold. Tiny goose bumps covered them both. Hers were wet. Thick humidity from outside seemed to claw at the windows. He spoke softly, pausing ever so briefly, between each word. He put so much care into the words he chose. Each syllable reverberated off the colorless bathroom tiles.

"Have you ever..." He stopped. "No. Fuck that. How many times have you cheated on me?"

His voice had always been deep. It seemed deeper now, though. More heavy, as if his pain weighed down his vocal cords, making them suffer the same punishment his heart was now enduring. His eyes were tightly shut. His dark hand ran smoothly over his eyelids, which felt like mushy flesh. There was still a pungent odor of bleach in the air.

"Kathryn! Answer me, goddamn it!" The volume caused her head to ache even more.

Soaked and terrified, Kathryn's thin frame shivered in the bathtub. Water crested halfway to the top. Sad black tears stained her face as the mascara loosened its grasp on the rim of her eyes. The silver sequins on her burgundy evening gown seemed to reflect her sorrow. The white of the bathroom surrounded them in an empty void. Gentle waves cascaded. Their reflections were displayed in it; ghostlike shadows swayed in the enclosed current.

"You filthy bitch! How many times have you cheated on me?"

Angered by her silence, he reached over and began to choke her. Strands of her hair stuck to the tile as he shoved her head under the water. It splashed out and soaked his gray T-shirt and shorts. She struggled for air. She fought. She struggled more. Her eyelids fluttered. Her tormented splattering was suddenly cut by a youthful sound.

"Uncle Josh," the child murmured at first, with a voice like maple syrup. She held her pink-and-yellow bath towel tightly. "Uncle Josh! No! Please, stop it! Please! You're hurting Aunt Kathryn!"

"Dawn! Go back to your room! Now, goddamn it!" Joshua demanded, never once loosening the vise on his wife's neck.

"Please, Joshua." Kathryn's voice was a faint whisper. "Dawn."

Joshua thought of his niece, her innocence. His face softened and he loosened his grip, releasing his wife from her watery confine. Dawn began crying and turned and ran toward her bedroom. The cartoon characters on her fluffy pink slippers seemed to weep as well as she slammed her door and dashed for the sanctuary of new rainbow-riddled blankets and sheets. She hid there, saying a child's prayer for her aunt and uncle. A little black dress and matching shoes lay where she left them a week ago. The announcement -- a chubby face in black and white -- was awkward next to the Dr. Seuss collection.

Joshua stared at Kathryn. He then knelt next to the bathtub, looking down at the floor. If someone had walked in at that moment, it would have looked as if he was praying to his wife. To this female god.

"We've been together for twelve years." His voice was low. "You're telling me you never once cheated on me? Kathryn, I'll fucking kill you right now. Why have you been coming home, like this?"

Joshua's mind suddenly left the swampy bathroom. He began to think about how beautiful his wife was. About the day he first saw her. About her radiant smile. It was only one of many reasons that had led to his deep infatuation for her.

He snapped back to the bathroom. On the sink was a glass dish where the bar of soap rested. Next to it was a glass container with more bars of soap. That was Kathryn's idea. Joshua wasn't much of a decorator, though he prided himself in critiquing what Kathryn did. He would often slide a vase two inches to the left, or rotate a pot of flowers so the greener leaves would show. He felt he was improving things. Kathryn felt he was being an asshole.

His knees ached from kneeling, so he propped his right foot up and leaned on the tub, resting his elbow on it and covering his face with this hand. He looked up at his wife. Sticky vapors clung to the windows.

Kathryn's wine-colored evening gown was drenched and clinging to her slim body. Her cheekbones protruded like jagged rocks. The blackness of her eye makeup had spread across her face in embarrassing concentric swirls. Sounds of the running water eerily coupled with the late-night news Joshua was watching before Kathryn stumbled through the door, inebriated and disheveled. The heel of her maroon stiletto was cracked.

"Well, folks, don't expect any relief from today's high temperatures. The humidity we're feeling right now will continue throughout the night. It will increase tomorrow when daytime temperatures are expected to reach 95 degrees in parts of Virginia and southern Maryland. If you absolutely must be outdoors, be sure to drink plenty of fluids, preferably water."

Kathryn wiped her forehead with her left hand, then her right cheek and chin. The black makeup smudged her sculpted face. Her head throbbed. Then, suddenly, a facial muscle reacted. She smiled.

"What do you want from me, Josh?" It was a sweet and seductive voice, one with depth fit for an opera singer. "Haven't I been there for you? Supported you when no one else would? Rubbed your back when you were tired? I have never cheated on you."

Joshua looked away and began scratching his neck. The glow of the bathroom lighting made his moist face shine.

Kathryn laughed drunkenly, still intoxicated by the Pinot Noir she had been enjoying earlier.

"You don't love me. All that I have done for you." The words slithered past her once-perfect teeth, now showing signs of decay. "I don't know. Maybe it's because I've been drinking. I don't know. I gave you my heart a long time ago, Josh. And what did you do? You make me feel like shit. Don't act like you don't know why I've been coming home like this."

She wiped her face again. Shining lights illuminated the diamond on her finger, and the room momentarily bursts with a kaleidoscope of reds, blues and yellows.

"You know, Joshua. Joshua! Look at me! You know why!"

Joshua resentfully turned to face her.

"I would have done anything for you. Now, you know what I do, now?"

Joshua was silent.

"Now, every day, every fucking day, I hope, no, I pray, that you get hit by a fucking bus. That you get tangled up in a nasty pileup on the Beltway and they need your fucking dental records to identify you. That's what I pray for, Joshua. Every day. Every day, that's what I fucking pray for!" She raised her voice and the water splashed.

Blood raced through his veins and Joshua was quickly on top of her, grabbing her throat and squeezing until her eyelids began to flicker like delirious candles. Kathryn gasped for air, nails scraping the tiled walls. The tub's faucet continued to spew hot water, which was now running down onto the floor and the white bathroom rug, turning Joshua's gray house shoes into a woolly soup. She struggled. His strength forced her to slide down the tile and back into the tub. Several sequins loosened from her gown and drowned in the whirling flood. Buckets worth spilled out onto the floor. The angel tattoo on her shoulder soaked in despair.

"I'll fucking kill you! You dirty fucking whore! Why have you done this to me? Why?!"

Copyright © 2008 by Che Parker