Dirty

Maryanne stood by the kitchen sink, her arms elbow deep in suds. So many germs so much dirt, she thought to herself scrubbing her hands and arms vigorously. The hot water scorched her skin but she ignored the burning. Years of fearing all traces of dirt and filth would send her into a blind fury at least six times a day. She would scour her arms until her skin was red and raw and only then would she say, "sink off."

The kitchen sink stopped spewing water and shut off obediently. She reached to her left and wiped her hands on a dish towel then refolded it neatly on the counter. Maryanne took pride in her kitchen. Never a speck of dust or dirt was permitted to reside on her counter.

"Dishwasher on." Maryanne commanded. The little white mechanical box buzzed to life and began humming quietly. Maryanne stood approvingly gazing over her kitchen for a few moments, when her ears picked up a rustling from her daughters bedroom. Maryanne quietly crept into her daughters room and gazed lovingly into the bassinet.

My sweet Chloe darling, she thought to herself as her fingertips lightly grazed her daughters little rosy cheek. She pulled the yellow knitted blanket over her daughters chest. Maryanne smiled down on the infant and sighed affectionately. She reached under the cradle and found the little green button and the bassinet began to rock gently back and forth. Quietly creeping back to the door, she stopped by the lighting panel and pressed the dull blue button in the middle. Little ballerinas instantly formed on the light pink walls and began dancing, pirouetting, and leaping; their little shadow bodies silently dancing across the walls.

Maryanne closed the door half-way behind her leaving a crack so she could hear her daughter if she began to fuss. She turned her attention to her son's room to her left. Again, Maryanne quietly opened the bedroom door and tip-toed to the foot of her son's bed. Her four-year-old son lay sprawled across the mattress, his little arms clung his blanket to his chest, his thumb in his mouth. Maryanne gently took his thumb out and rested his hand on his chest. She gently stroked his blonde curls and leaned down placing a soft kiss on his forehead. My sweet little man, she thought closing the door quietly behind her.

Maryanne washed her hands another time, drying them once more on the dish towel, and folding it again neatly on the counter. Maryanne then turned her attention to the small glowing box on the wall above the sink. She touched her finger to the blue glowing screen and quickly typed in her 8 digit password: 04-11-2693. Her wedding day.

The security panel obediently listed neatly in a row: Open Front Door, Close Front Door, Open Bay Window, Close Bay Window…

Maryanne scrolled to the last option and pressed Security Lock. The screen responded with a soft "ding" and lit up bright yellow: House Secure.

Maryanne exhaled running her fingers through her hair. Her shoulders and neck felt sore and she happily made her way to her bedroom. Maryanne stood in the doorway for a minute, leaning against the door frame with her ams crossed over her breasts. She smiled coyly, watching her husband who hadn't yet noticed her presence. He was casually laid on the bed with his head propped on a pillow. He was only wearing gray sweatpants and Maryanne let her eyes linger on his muscular frame.

His eyes were glued to the projectile; the evening news was on. An attractive Asian woman stood on the floor of their bedroom in a fitted purple eggplant blazer and pencil skirt. "As you can see," she gestured to the board to her left also standing in the bedroom, "tomorrow we will see a slight drizzle. Temperatures of 54 degrees in the morning, 61 degrees by mid afternoon with the temperature falling to 49 degrees by late evening." Droplets of rain fell to the floor and holographic clouds hovered over top her head. Maryanne stood patiently waiting for her husband to notice her presence. "

“Ahem…" Maryanne cleared her throat loudly.

He turned his gaze onto her and Maryanne's heart skipped a beat. "Well, hello there beautiful." Her husband spoke softly his blue eyes sparkling. He held up the remote and clicked off the projectile manually. He patted a place next to him on the bed and his eyebrows rose suggestively.

"Hey there." Maryanne responded gladly climbing into bed next to him. She wrapped her arms around him and breathed in his scent. She felt his fingers running through her hair and she sighed happily. He brought her gaze up to meet his, his hands gently cupping her face. He planted a single soft but passionate kiss on her parted lips.

"You know I love you, right?" He said gazing into her hazel eyes, there was a hint of sadness in his voice. "Of course I know that," Maryanne said her eyebrows furrowing.

"Whats wrong?" She didn't have to ask. She already knew. The news weighing on her before he even replied.

"There’s been another murder." He said solemnly his eyes strained with anguish. Maryanne nodded her head, she too had pain in her eyes.

"Did you lock up the house?" He asked her after a moment.

"Yes." She said quietly nodding her head. "I've been especially careful every night and even during the day to keep the house securely locked."

Her husband nodded, and looked at her with a serious expression. "Were trying everything we can to catch this bastard, Maryanne. We've been running all kinds of DNA and RNA tests at the lab, searching for witnesses, and trying to pattern the data. We know its inflicted heart trauma, but there just hasn't been a scrap of evidence! Not a finger print not a hair follicle, no surveillance videos, not even…"

"Don't start, John." She interrupted. "I know your team is doing everything they can to put this monster behind bars."

He nodded. "I know, but I just… I just don't know what I would do if anything happened to you or the kids." His face contorted, his brows furrowed, his lips quivered slightly.

"Hey!" Maryanne grabbed his face between her hands. "Look at me!" He reluctantly met her gaze and she stared deeply into his eyes. "We're going to be okay." She said with strength she didn't know she had.

"I have kept Chloe and Michael with me at all times or at my sisters house. I cary around that taser you gave me at all times, and I only leave the house for emergencies and groceries." His eyes dropped again, still heavy with sadness.

"Hey!" Maryanne exclaimed again pulling his face up so their eyes met. "Everything is going to be okay." He nodded slowly. "You'll catch this sicko, don't worry." She concluded.

John’s face was suddenly hard. “You know I would do anything to keep you safe. I couldn’t live without you.” He suddenly grabbed her face and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Maryanne was taken by surprise but she closed her eyes and let their lips connect. His lips flowed over hers like sweet wine. He was sipping her lips, drinking her kisses, taking her in. He gently began nibbling on her ear, then moved to her neck, his lips sucking at her tender skin. She moaned in response and and soon his hands were on her breasts. He tore off her night shirt, then her pajama bottoms, then his sweat pants. Before they had hardly begun, they heard a sound that immediately made them scramble for their clothes.

"Mommy, Daddy, what are you doing?" Michael stood in the doorway in his footed dinosaur pajamas, his blanket clutched to his chest, thumb in his mouth. "Oh shit…" John stammered pulling his sweat pants on and burying his face into the pillow. Maryanne who quickly redressed and recovered her composure took the child by his hand and sat him on top of their bed. Michael had his thumb in his mouth and held the blanket to his face protectively.

"I was thirsty mommy." He said frightened, "What was daddy doing?" Michael's almond eyes were wide with fear and concern. Maryanne turned to John and nodded her head. John reached into his night stand and pulled out a small pen-shaped device. "Five minutes." she mouthed to John.

"Shhh." Maryanne comforted Michael and held him to her chest stroking his hair. "Now, look at daddy for a moment," she whispered into his ear.

Maryanne closed her eyes and a blue flash shown over Michael's face, and into his wide eyes. He blinked, then looked up at Maryanne.

"Mommy…?" He asked rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Mommy, where am I?"

"Shhh…" Maryanne lifted Michael into her arms and carried him out the door back into his bedroom. "Its late Michael, past your bed time." She said laying him back down into his bed. He clutched his blanked to his face, his thumb in his mouth. His eyes closed slowly, a happy grin spreading over his face. "I love you, my sweet man." Maryanne whispered placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, then quietly closed the door behind her once more.

Maryanne with a small embarrassed grin crept back into bed next to her husband. "Oh I hate having to do that…" John moaned, his hand wiping sweat off his face.

"Shhh, it's okay," Maryanne soothed rubbing her hand over his shoulder.

"He's just so young…” John sighed.

Maryanne wrapped her arms around his shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Your an amazing provider and father," she whispered into his ear. "Its for the best that Michael doesn't learn about sex until he's much older." John’s eyes met her own with a look of understanding. Maryanne recalled her own childhood when she had been sexually molested by her uncle when she was only eight years old. Her parents would have killed to have had the technology she has today, to have given her back her innocence.

The pain washed over her again and she saw the dirty nasty face of her uncle. She saw his yellow teeth and smelled his rancid breath. She saw his beady black eyes and his crooked grin. Worst of all, she saw his hands. Those dirty, filthy hands caked with dirt and grime. His nails yellowing and chipped. She saw those hands again in her mind. Those scummy dirty hands. Hands that did things to her. Terrible things. Hands that made her feel unclean and dirty.

She began to shake, as she felt shivers going up her arms and legs. Her husband looked at her with concern in each crease on his forehead. "I have to wash my hands…" Maryanne said getting up and walking to the bathroom. She felt her husbands eyes following her. She closed the door behind door. "Sink on." She commanded and the faucet responded.

"Soap, antibacterial." She held out her hand under the soap dispenser. Instead of a dispensing a large dollop of soap, the dispenser instead gave her hand a mall poof of air. Maryanne frowned.

We're out of soap.

Maryanne paced back and forth in the bathroom. We are out of soap. We are out of soap. Maryanne needed to wash her hands. She had to wash her hands. Her hands felt dirty. So incredibly dirty.

She whipped the bathroom door open and stepped into her bedroom rummaging through her dresser drawer for a jacket.

"Where are you going?" John asked startled.

"We're out of soap." Said Maryanne putting each arm through her white fleece coat.

John knew there was no arguing with her. He knew his wife all too well.

“Be safe, Maryanne." He said with pain in his eyes.

"I will." She gave him a soft kiss on his lips and headed to the front door. "I'll be back before you know it."

Maryanne grabbed her purse and stepped outside into the night. The darkness seemed to envelop her and wrap around her like a blanket squeezing the air out of her lungs. She shivered even though her jacket was warm. She found her car in the dark and entered her pin on the side panel. The door opened with a "click." She stepped in quickly, shutting and locking the door behind her. She sighed, relieved to be out of the suffocating darkness.

"Car on." She ordered and the engine ignited and stirred to life with a steady hum. "Hello. Destination, please?" The robotic female voice inquired. "East Shore Quickie Market." Maryanne commanded. She sat back as the car began slowly driving down the familiar streets. She never selected the same supermarket twice in a row, as John had instructed. She was too precious to him, and following patterns and routines made for easy targets. "You have to be especially careful at night." John had warned her. "Don't depend on The Surveillance Police to be watching at all times." John knew too well S.P. officials were understaffed. Police funding had been cut significantly and there were not enough officers to monitor the cameras and respond to emergencies.

As the car pulled into the back of The East Shore Quickie Market she gazed around in dismay. There was only a single other car in the parking lot. "Car off." She said quietly and the engine responded and the female voice gave a curt "Goodbye." Her hands were itching. She had to wash them, they needed to be washed now.

Maryanne took a deep breath and stepped back out into the cold night. The darkness again seemed to swirl around her and she hastily made her way to the front door of the building. She felt her skin crawling, as if a million eyes were watching her. She willed her legs to move faster, and finally as the building doors opened and the florescent lights shown onto her. She was overcome with a feeling of relief. She stepped into the store and immediately found the toiletry aisle and grabbed four cartridges of antibacterial soap and a water bottle.

On her way out, she decided to grab a bag of powdered baby formula. On second thought, she also picked up a newspaper from the news stand before proceeding to the checkout. A silver glimmer caught her eye. Sitting near some red wrapped candy boxes, in a small black velvety box, she saw a silver heart-shaped locket. Maryanne signed. She had barely taken the Christmas tree out to the curb and stores are already putting out Valentines day merchandise. Maryanne smiled to herself as she scanned each item at the mechanical checkout. She pressed her thumb into the reader. “Twenty two dollars and thirty six cents. Thank you, have a nice day." The machine responded in a mechanical tone.

Maryanne quickly placed each item into a plastic shopping bag. She proceeded to walk out the door bracing herself again for the darkness. It hit her again, the unbelievably choking blackness. She hurried to her car. She put in her pin again and placed her items on the passengers seat beside her. Before she stepped into the vehicle, she grabbed one of the soap canisters and poured a handful of the orange contents onto her hands. She rubbed them together, scouring each finger, scrubbing all the way up to her elbows. It felt good. She sighed. She felt clean. She opened the water bottle with her teeth and poured the water over her hands and arms washing the suds onto the pavement.

"Ma'm?" she heard a voice behind her and immediately spun around, her eyes wide with terror, her heart racing. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you." The boy standing before her couldn't have been older than 17. His brown sloppy hair covered his forehead and his cheeks were covered in pimples. He wore a green apron that had "East Shore Quickie Market" in white writing on the front of the smock. "Did you happen to leave your baby formula at the check out?" The boy held up the plastic bag. Maryanne whose heart had stopped beating out of her chest, leaned into the car searching through her bags and realized she had in fact forgotten the formula.

"Why yes, I believe I did!" she chuckled. "Thank you so much young man…" She reached to take the bag from him but stopped immediately. She pulled her hand back as if it had been in fire and clutched her hands to her chest. Her body began to shake, and sweat formed in beads on her forehead. Her eyes widened in terror. His hands.

It was all she could look at, all she could concentrate on, all she saw. Blood was pumping through her head in a surging roar. She couldn't concentrate, couldn't see anything, all she could see were his hands. His filthy, dirt covered hands.

"Ma'm, are you alright?" The boy sensed Maryanne's change in mood. Maryanne tensed, she felt her back hit the car. She was trapped. Trapped with those hands.

"Get.. Get back!" She choked in a whisper. "Get away from me!" She couldn't move. Her feet were planted to the ground. She couldn't breathe. Her breaths came in short raspy gasps of panic. She could barely speak, barely think. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his hands.

“I’m sorry ma’m, i'm just trying to help. This is your item isn't it?" Maryanne looked at the boy's concerned face then back at his hands then back at his face, then back to his hands once more. Those filthy dirty hands! She was shaking.

"I said get away from me!" she exclaimed and with one swift motion she pulled out her taser and pointed it at the boy. "Get. Back." her voice cracked. Maryanne stood only five feet tall, one hundred pounds. The boy towered over her still with a look of concern and now slight fear.

"Hey, hey where did you get that?" He asked his hands going up in the air, dropping the formula. "Take it easy!"

Maryanne couldn't take it easy. She couldn't do anything. All she could do, all she could see, were those hands. They were staring at her, mocking her! Those horrible dirty hands! They had touched her babies formula. They had touched her. They had touched her and violated her and made her unclean. They had made her dirty.

Without thinking, it wasn't even her really, it was some lost girl trapped in a woman's body that pulled the trigger and sent 150 amps of electricity straight into the boys chest. The boy immediately crumpled to the floor, with a look of shock and terror on his face.

Maryanne quickly got into her car. The confrontation hadn't been more than 2 minutes but she was shaking from head to toe, blood still surging through her head, those hands still vividly pictured in her mind. "Car on." She whispered as the engine stirred to life. "Hello. Destination, please?" The voice asked robotically. "Home." She answered. "Take me home."

As she drove away, she could still see the boys crumpled body lying on the pavement. She could see the terror in his eyes, the last seconds of his life. Tears began to form in her eyes. What have I done?

As clarity began to wash over her, Maryanne began to sob. She sobbed into her hands, her shoulders shaking. She wailed as the car drove through the night.

She wailed for her past. She wailed for her future. She wailed for her husband. She wailed for her children.

What have I done? She thought to herself. How can I ever look John in the eye again? What will I tell him? What will happen to Michael and Chloe? I’m going to prison!

The car pulled into the driveway. “Arrived at home.” The car said. Maryanne sniffed. “Car off.” She said shakily.

Maryanne sat in the car for what felt like hours. She ran through her mind how she was going to tell her husband that she accidentally killed someone. Would he cry? Would he yell? Would he immediately call the authorities? Maryanne clenched her fists and took a deep breath.

She opened the car door and slowly made her way to the front door of the house. She touched her thumb to the keypad and the door opened with a soft click.

Maryanne peered into Chloe and Michael’s rooms. Both asleep. Maryanne couldn’t look at them. They looked like little angels. She gave each one a kiss. The tears rolled down her face.

She finally made her way to her bedroom. She didn’t remember walking there. All she could remember was she was suddenly in the doorway looking in on her husband who was watching some gameshow. He shut it off when he saw her standing in the doorway.

“Hey.” He said patting the bed beside him.

Maryanne could only shake her head, tears streaming down her face.

John stood up, “Hey.” He said this time in a concerned tone. “What’s wrong?”

“John… I I I…” Maryanne closed her eyes. “I killed someone.” She whispered.

When she opened her eyes John stood staring at her for a moment. Then he pushed past her and disappeared down the hallway.

Maryanne blinked, shocked. He hadn’t said a word. Not one word.

Oh god, he’s calling the police.

Maryanne followed her husband to his study and found him on his work computer, brow furrowed.

He’s pulling up the surveillance video. I didn’t know he could do that.

“John, what are you doing?” Maryanne couldn’t look at the screen she couldn’t see it again. It was too terrible.

John suddenly got up from his desk and wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m so sorry.” She cried into his chest. “I am so so sorry.”

“Shh.. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” John comforted her.

John pulled out the pen shaped device.

“John what are you doing?!” Maryanne cried out

“Shhh It’s okay. I’m taking care of everything. The surveillance, the evidence. I’ll make it all go away.”

“John you can’t just do that! I.. I killed someone! I have to go to jail! I have to..”

“Shhh… I told you. I would do anything to keep you safe.”

There was a flash of blue light.

Maryanne felt her face, it was wet. "Have I been crying?" She wondered out loud. Why in good heaven have I been crying?

“John, what’s going on?” She realized she was standing in her husbands study.

“I have to work late tonight, honey.” He said leaning down and kissing her lips. “There’s been a break in the case.”

Maryanne’s eyes lit up. “That’s wonderful! You’re going to catch him, John I just know it!”

“That’s the hope.” John said with a hint of pain in his eyes.

“Well, good luck honey. Try not to be too late.”

She kissed her husband goodbye as he stepped out the front door promising to be home as soon as possible.

She re-set the security panel. House Secure.

She discovered she had a new cartridge of soap sitting on the counter. John must have picked it up for her.

She began washing her hands. She scrubbed her hands and arms vigorously. She scoured her hands until they were red and raw.

So many germs. so much dirt.