Pleasant Plumeria #9

The footprints in the snow suddenly ended. I looked around frantically, panic burning at the back of my throat. White gleamed back at me, no longer pristine, but grating, mocking. The trail behind me was still visible, but growing fainter with each passing minute. Backtracking was no longer an option.

As I stood there, thoughts racing, my physical discomfort no longer registered. The needle-like sting of snowflakes abrading my cheeks, the sharp pain of frostbite creeping into my extremities, none of this mattered as I stared into the oblivion that seemed to have swallowed him completely. After hours of chasing him, loaded shotgun in hand, his tracks had simply disappeared. It was as though he'd sprouted wings and taken flight, but this man was no angel. This man was the closest incarnation to the devil that I'd ever known.

"We're gonna be late, damn it. Seriously, if we're gonna walk in late like a couple of assholes, I don't even want to go."

"James, we're not late, we're just not as early as you wanted to be. I'm almost ready, I'll be right down."

"Oh, I'm stupid because I wanted to be early? I'm an idiot because I don't enjoy showing up in the middle of things so everyone can pay attention to me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Please Michele, give me a break. You fucking love prancing in the room with all eyes on you. You get off on it and you know it."

"I'm coming down right now! Please don't be angry, I just wanted to look nice."

"Are you kidding me? You spent all that time up there and this is it? What did you even do? Besides pile on the slut makeup, I mean."

"James, please. I just wanted to look special. It's a wedding, I thought I'd put on some makeup for the occasion."

"Nice. You want to look 'special' for your ex-boyfriend's wedding. When was the last time you looked 'special' for me? And where did that dress come from, did you buy a new dress without asking me?"

"I told you I had to get a new dress, I didn't have anything that looked right for an evening wedding! I—"

"Oh you TOLD me, I see. Well why don't you TELL me what you plan to do in your slut outfit tonight? Gonna suck of the groom for old time's sake? Maybe give the ushers handjobs so they remember who you were in high school."

"James, I'm sorry, I wanted to look pretty for you. I wanted you to be proud of me. Ow, please don't grab me, please, James—"

"Shut up! You pissed me off on purpose, didn't you? Why do you make me do these things? Why do you ALWAYS fucking instigate with me? THERE, how does that feel? Feel special now?"

"J-James, please. I'm sorry, I'm an idiot. Please don't hit me again, I should have known better."

"Better than what? What, slut, what should you have known better?"

"B-Better than to piss you off, better than to buy a dress I didn't need. I-I-I didn't mean to make you so mad, it's my fault."

"Alright then. Now stand up and give me a kiss. I hate when you make me do these things. If you would just be sweet to me, I wouldn't have to get so mad."

"You're right, James, you're right."

I heard a rustle above me and a tremor rippled down my spine. The trees around me had long since ceased to be picturesque, but this was the first time they looked downright sinister. Could he possibly have shimmied up one of the knotty trunks? A wave of terror rolled over me and I began darting my eyes upwards, left, right, anywhere a man might have hidden himself within the boughs of a fir tree. Paranoia gripped me like a vice, and I felt his eyes on me, boring into my back, watching and waiting.

I swung my shotgun around wildly, searching for some hint at where he'd gone. None of the trees looked like they'd been disturbed, each trunk covered with the same layer of ice and snow. I closed my eyes briefly, trying to focus on the sounds of the woods, but nothing stood out. The hush of falling snow was deafening, maddening, infuriating, until I heard another rustle. Right above me.

"I'm so sorry I'm late! I got home as soon as I could, but my boss was being a jerk and then traffic was a nightmare. James, are you in here?"

"What do you think?"

"Oh! You were so quiet, I thought maybe you'd gone out."

"No, I don't have that luxury."

"What do you mean?"

"Well Michele, while you're out fucking around all night, someone has to be here to feed the damn cat. Someone has to take care of the animal, right? Since its owner doesn't give a shit."

"James I'm two hours late, and I called to tell you that. You didn't answer the phone, I thought maybe you'd gone to get food or something."

"Nope, too busy cat sitting. And don't worry about food, I don't need to eat."

"I'm sorry, I DID try to call. Things got screwed up on the latest project and we had to get it fixed by—"

"Do I look like I give a shit? You're a secretary, I don't give a flying fuck what you do all day."

"I'm a paralegal, James, it's a lot more complicated than—"

"Right, right, I'M the dumb one. We can't all be geniuses that went to legal school—oh wait, you didn't."

"Please, I don't want to fight, I had a long day, I just want to make some dinner and relax."

"Who's fighting? I'm just stating the obvious. My stupid shit wife was late again, didn't make me dinner AGAIN, and expected me to take care of her stupid animal AGAIN. Well, at least I fixed part of the problem."

"James…what does that mean? Why are you smiling like that?"

"Figure it out, lawyer Barbie. I'm going to bed."

"James, where's Cody? I didn't hear him when I came in. James, talk to me, don't walk away… Cody! Cody kitty, where are you?"

"If you're hungry, feel free to reheat something from the freezer, Michele."

"Oh shit shit shit… Please God, please don't… This can't be happening—CODY! Nooo, please Jesus, CODY!! James, what did you DO?!"

My knuckles were white and my fingers numb from the death grip I had on the shotgun. The sound of movement became more constant, and when I opened my eyes, it was easy to spot him. Hunkered down on a thick lower limb, he looked back at me, shaking slightly. His bare feet were raw and bloodied, but the look in his eyes was still menacing. Realizing that I'd seen him, he steadied himself, gripped the tree branch, and swung down to the ground with a muted thud. His arms out wide, the most submissive I'd ever seen him, he began walking towards me.

"Mmmph… What? What're you doing?"

"Shh, just go back to sleep."

"James…"

"I said go back to sleep Michele, this won't take long."

"Hey! Stop! Ouch!! What are you doing?!"

"It doesn't have to be rough if you cooperate. Fuck, I don't even need you to cooperate, just lie there quietly."

"Please James, owww… I really don't want to—OUCH!"

"Shut up, bitch! I told you it'd be over soon if you just lay still."

"But, I don't—I'm not—OW!—please James, don't—Oh God, it hurts!!"

"There, there we go. Just take it baby. You know you want it."

"James…Please, you're killing me…It hurts so bad…"

"Shhh…Just enjoy the ride."

"Put down the gun. Look, I get it. I'll treat you better. Come on, sweetheart, let's just go back. I promise, things will be different." Even in his disarray, disheveled and injured, freezing and running for his life, James still managed to be controlling.

"Michele, you don't really want to do this. And let's face it, you're not gonna pull the trigger. You'd miss me too much, and you know you need me. I'll forgive you, baby, let's just go home." A superior smile crept across his face as he inched closer and closer.

As I held the gun up and aimed it at his chest, I felt the beginnings of something I hadn't known in a long time. It felt soft and warm, soothing and calm. As I pointed my shotgun at my husband's chest, I finally began to feel peace.

"You're wrong, James. And I'm not going to miss you at all."

The blast of the shotgun echoed in the woods, but all I could focus on was the snow. It had swallowed our tracks and silenced a whole forest, and now it became the perfect canvas. I had never been much of an artist, but the spatter and spill of his blood into the deep drifts of snow was my masterpiece.