My Wife Cannot Stop Staring At Me

The day the statue arrived Chris was the only one home. Marla would have rolled in laughter to see her likeness being placed in the yard. ‘It’s a Greek thing’ she would have thought. It wasn’t the only statue on display at the Pallas house but it was definitely the most ridiculous.

Chris was pretty handy around the house and especially adept at all the little pet projects that his wife Marla had planned for him. He went about his Marla chores happily, which could be anything from installing a new light fixture to putting in a sprinkler system. Weekend work fit nicely with his personal credo, ‘Happy Wife, Happy Life.’ Chris’ day job was carpentry. Marla’s proper work was a school nurse in an elementary school but her real pride was watching her kids, Chris Jr. and Randy, grow into teens. She let her kids explore whatever pursuit brought them joy. Marla was a hands off kind of parent. Her husband and Chris Jr. were big time fishing enthusiasts. Chris was a hands on kind of dad. When Chris was not involved in family outings or Marla projects he was off fishing with his son or playing games with his daughter. Randy was content to stay home and play video games and write poems about her childhood angst growing up in an upper middle class home.

By all accounts the Pallas family was just your typical American family, even though Marla liked to tease Chris about his heritage by saying, “it’s all Greek to me.” But the teasing was never mean spirited and Chris took everything in stride. Besides, Marla was fond of the tall tales that her husband would spin for her and the kids. She was amused at his insistence that he was a mortal descendant of Greek gods. Amused that he was full of crap. As for Chris, he was as laid back as they come, especially for someone who had a responsibility which most folks could not fathom. His son would inherit that same responsibility. Marla knew her husband and Chris Jr. kept secrets but usually dismissed them as guy stuff. But Marla was a curious gal. She was fond of the quote by the Irish novelist James Stephens, “curiosity will conquer fear more than bravery will.” Chris always countered with a favored quote of unknown origin, “sometimes curiosity is a poison, not only for those that drink it but for everyone around it.” Marla didn’t like that quote. Turns out she also didn’t like secrets, regardless what she told herself.

Chris had only seconds that day to warn Marla.

The day was like a lot of others in the Pallas family; almost. Chris and his son went fishing in the morning and afterwards he dropped Chris Jr. at a friends house. Randy was spending the weekend with her paternal grandparents. She loved her granddad and his stories were even more outrageous than the tales her dad would tell. More Greek god stuff that would make her laugh and momentarily free her of the teenage malaise she lived with conviction.

Marla took the day to organize and tidy up around the house. In the attic she pried open the familiar wooden crate whose contents Chris told her were old family heirlooms. She ignored the clearly written warning on top; Do Not Open. Chris insisted she never, ever open anything of his without his permission. It was also understood by the kids. No one touches dad’s stuff. This was the one pet peeve of his. And Marla was fine with it for the most part but she had a hard time knowing something was in her house without knowing what it was.

She found the contents were nothing out of the ordinary. Old family photos, trinkets that maybe had some value or not, and a plain brown paper wrapped box. The box did have some weight to it though. She peeled a little piece of the wrapping back and could see the words, “Να σταματήσει! Μην ανοίξετε αυτό το σκάφος. Τα περιεχόμενα θα δηλητηριάσουν όλους, συμπεριλαμβανομένου του παραβάτη.” - Χρυσάωρ Marla laughed to herself thinking, “it looks Greek to me.” As she tore more of the paper from the box she saw below the greek lettering was written, “Stop! Do Not Open This Vessel. The Contents Will Poison Everyone, Including The Offender.” - Chrysaor Was this a translation, she thought? Who was Chrysaor? Was this her husband’s Greek name? She surmised this was just another one of Chris’ rich tales and his way of saying, “gotcha” for opening his stuff. The words on the box were evocative of her husband’s favorite quote about curiosity. She brought the package down from the attic and placed it on the kitchen table and used Google translator on the computer. The words in English underneath the Greek letters on the box matched what Google translated. Her curiosity was far more substantial than her bravery. She knew it was some kind of a prank that her husband initiated with the whole, “never open anything of his without his permission shtick,” but still. She heard his pickup truck pull in the driveway.

Chris was across the kitchen table pleading with his wife to not open the box. Frantic would have been an understatement. He weaved a tale so unbelievable that Marla just laughed uncontrollably. He insisted he was not kidding. Surely this had to be the most elaborate hoax that any husband ever pulled on a spouse. Chris went on and on about Greek gods and mortals with the added twist of caretakers throughout history. The more he spoke the more desperate he became. He said he was the descendant of Medusa’s son, Chrysaor .

Marla heard nothing but her own laughter. Of course Chris was pulling her leg. He’d be insane otherwise. She was certain that was not the case and so Marla opened the box. Her eyes widened just in time to catch her husband’s gaze and in less than a split second she knew she had poisoned the entire family.