Epilogue #3
‘I just thought you would like a nice breakfast in bed this morning. I wanted to do something nice for you. Hang on, I’ll be right back. I forgot to take the coffee pot off the stove.”
I left the room to grab a few things from the laundry room and place them in the hall bathroom.
When I came back into the room, John Robert was about halfway through his breakfast. I asked him, “How do you like your breakfast? Do you need anything else?” With a full mouth, he answered, “It’s fine.
What the fuck did you do? Why the special treatment all of a sudden?
” I just smiled sweetly and said, “I didn’t do anything.
Nothing is wrong, I just thought you would like it as a special treat, and I wanted to talk to you. ”
He just looked at me with the coffee cup perched at his lips.
He took a long sip and said, “About what?” then set the mug down onto the tray.
Then he shivered and said, “Damn, that coffee is strong this morning, and that jam had a funny, bitter aftertaste to it.’ He took another bite of the toast. I just sat on the end of the bed, looked him right in the eyes, and said, “John Robert, I want you to listen to me while you still can. When we first met, I thought I had met an angel from heaven. I eventually found out that I was so wrong. You have been the worst possible husband in the whole world, and you are an even more horrible person. You are the biggest piece of shit that ever drew breath, and you know what, no one will ever miss you! When you are gone, no one will think about you or even wonder where you went, and Claire and I will live a much happier life without you in it. I thought about just leaving you, but I knew you would do everything in your power to make my life a living hell, and you would drag Claire down with you. And I’m not about to let that happen. ”
He smirked at me while taking another long sip of coffee and then coughed a little.
He was starting to turn a little red. “Too bad for you, bitch. I will kill you before I let you leave. I promise you. You’ll never know when it’s coming.
” He was coughing now and starting to gasp for air.
“I’ll take that girl out first, right in front of you.
” He struggled to say through coughs and gasps.
I stood up and looked down at him and said, “You won’t be hurting anyone else ever again, John Robert, especially not my daughter.
As I said before, no one is ever going to miss you.
Not me, not even your poor brainwashed girlfriend.
” I quickly grabbed the tray from his lap before the convulsions started.
His eyes opened wide as the horrible realization hit him.
“What… did… you… feed… me?” he gasped. He was slumping back onto his pillows now and was unable to lift his head.
I just smiled, and as pleasantly as I could, I said, “You know, just like that poisoned jam you ate, you started out so sweet, then turned unbelievably bitter. Good-bye, John Robert, I hope you burn in hell, you son of a bitch!”
I stood by his side of the bed and looked down on him. I thought about leaving the room and letting him die alone, but I figured if I was gonna have the guts to kill the son of a bitch, then I was gonna watch him die. And it didn't take long. Just ten more minutes, and he was gone.
I sat in an old green velvet Queen Anne chair that sat in the corner and watched him breathe his very last twitchy, ragged breath.
Then I calmly got up and walked out of the room because now I had work to do.
I went into the bathroom and changed into some of his old work clothes, including his old heavy work boots that I had to stuff the ends with paper towels so they wouldn’t flop on my feet.
I then rolled him over and wrapped him in an old tarp that I had brought in from the shed.
I went to the basement and uncovered the 6-foot-deep hole I had dug by the foundation wall the whole day before he had gotten home from work.
I took a rope and tied it to his feet and dragged him down the steps into the basement.
It took me forever because he was not a small man, but I was stronger than I looked.
Although, honestly, Lewie, the sound of his head hitting every step into the basement as I dragged him down there haunted me for years.
Finally, I was able to push and kick his body into that hole, dumped a bag of lime over his body, and covered him up.
There was, of course, dirt mounded up, but that would settle as he decomposed, so I moved a large storage cabinet with 6-inch legs over the mound and filled it full of all my canning jars and supplies.
I scattered the excess dirt across the whole floor and then stripped down to my underwear and took the clothes to the washer on the back porch.
Then, just like any other day, I got dressed for my shift at the diner, folded the clothes, put them in that trunk in the basement, and then shut the basement door.
I put on my gloves and took the lunchbox to the road as I was walking to work.
John Robert had left that night in the car but did not come back in it.
My guess was he left it at his work, so I wouldn’t have a way to punish him.
He probably had his girlfriend bring him home.
Anyway, three days later, I “found” the lunch box by the stump.
I was right. No one ever missed the son of a bitch.
No one ever asked me where he was. No one ever cared, except for Vivian.
She called the house one night, weeks later, and asked to speak to him, and I told her that he wasn’t there.
She got mad thinking I was keeping him from her, and I just laughed and told her maybe he wasn’t as great as she thought, and that he’d probably left town with yet another girl and had abandoned both of us.
I told her I hadn’t seen his face for two months, and quite honestly, I didn’t care if I ever saw it again.
She didn’t like that and hung up on me. All I could do was laugh at her.
She was a victim of his, also; she just didn’t realize it.
I need you to understand that I do not regret what I did, Lewie.
I love you, and I do not want you to hate me, but I know for a fact that man was evil, and he would have killed both me and your mother if I hadn't intervened. Kill me, but Claire, hell no! She deserved a peaceful and full life, and the only way to accomplish that was by doing what I did. I killed John Robert Marcus, and I would do it again to save my Claire, and by extension, you. If I had not done what I did, then you would not be here now! I regret nothing and will take my punishment as long as you are thriving! Please forgive me! I love you, Lewie, and I always will!” Memaw blew a kiss, took the brooch off, and placed it down.
The vision ended, and I was back in the living room.
It seemed like I had been holding my breath the whole time she spoke.
I placed the brooch back into the velvet box, placed the box back into the diary, and set the diary back on the coffee table.
I sat back on the couch, drew a deep breath, and smiled.
I could never hate Memaw. And if I am being honest with myself, I don’t blame her.
I understood that a woman in the South in the 1970s didn’t have a lot of advantages when trying to find shelter from an abusive husband.
She did what she thought was best, and that was good enough for me.
With that thought, I got up from the couch and went to the door, grabbed my jacket, and went to my car. I was so tired that I was finding it hard to see, but I needed to call Rach before she got to work. I got in the car and locked the diary in my glove compartment.
I made the call to Rach, made reservations, and then drove home in silence, content in the knowledge that in the end, even though it was technically outside the bounds of the law, it would be hard to argue that it was not justified, and that justice had indeed been served.