An Out

“How much did she eat?”

“Just a slice.”

Geoff stared at the fallen cake smashed into the checkered linoleum, incredulous. His wife was never one for sweets, much less chocolate flavored ones. People attributed her slim, athletic figure to that, forgetting she was the hardest working mechanic in the entire state of Louisiana.

“Can I see her before we have to leave?” Geoff found himself forcing the words out of his mouth as if his tongue was bolted to the back of his throat.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. The effects of the toxin are unsightly.” The officer placed a hand on his shoulder. “Geoff, buddy. We should go and grab a drink. It’s on me.”

Geoffrey Lidell hadn’t downed anything more than a Coke on Sundays in the last 10 years since Charles had purchased them both a gin and tonic at a dive back in ‘52. He was a good cop, and an even better friend. If he said they should go grab a drink, he damn well knew Geoff needed one.

As they walked out of the tiny kitchen of 45 Knoxwell Street, small amounts of saliva bubbled out of the gaping mouth of Helen Lidell covered by her best linen tablecloth.

- - -

The town had it rough; there wasn’t anywhere in Thibodeaux you couldn’t find some grime. Geoff and Charles slid into the cracked leather booth of one of the many dives near Geoff’s house as the waitress sidled over.

“What can I getcha.” she smacked through her gum.

“Two juleps and a water.” Charles moved his eyes down Geoff’s drooping face. “Geoff, it’s going to get better with time. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“S’not anyone’s fault.” Geoff slurred as he hiccuped through his tears. He could never tell Charles the truth. If this was how Helen wanted to go, so be it. At least he would be rid of her pretty friend and their terrible manners the neighbors loved to gossip about.

He was glad he made it clear how he felt before she decided to uproot his whole life. He was the victim.

“Helen’s in peace now, and that’s all we could ever wish for her.”

The waitress shuffled over to slam the drinks down with a roll of her eyes at Geoffrey’s ruffled appearance. Charles gave a small grimace in her direction as she slowly made her way back to the dimly lit kitchen where some static was playing over the radio.

Geoff grabbed his glass with a heavy hand and slurped the alcohol. Chewing on the wilted leaf of mint he found at the bottom, his eyes heavily dragged up to see Charles wary look.

“I’m fine, Charles. Don’t you worry about me. This is all for the best, you’ll see.” Geoff spit the leaf into the glass and aggressively set his hands down, feeling the stickiness on the edge of the formica. “She had it good with me, you see. She had a good life.” he challenged.

“I know, Geoff. Everyone did.” Charles glanced at the clock which was off by an hour. It showed 10:03 in the morning. He sighed; it would be a long day.

- - -

Contrary to Geoffrey and the entire town of Thibodeaux’s belief, Helen Lidell was not, in fact, dead. Her hair was being tossed by the wind and caressed lovingly by a tan, bejeweled hand. Helen laughed and turned with a smile towards the gorgeous woman in the passenger seat of the Thunderbird rebuilt by Helen herself. The woman slid her hand down Helen’s head and stroked the blooming bruises on the right side of her face.

“And good riddance!” yelled Mary, her bright chuckle being torn away by the hot August air as they flew down Route 90 and passed the border into Texas. Helen’s eyes gleamed with happiness despite the throbbing in her cheek. She was finally free.

Free of Geoff.

Free of Louisiana.

Free to be.