The Last Grave

James crawled out from underneath his 1964 Pontiac GTO, wiping the grease of his hands with an old rag. He gave her a loving caress on her sparkling red hood. He had been fixing the car up since he bought it from a junkyard three years ago, and she had come a long way from the rusted and neglected thing that once was. He walked around to the driver’s side and opened the door, sliding into the impeccable black leather seat. He turned the key in the ignition and smiled as it purred to life. James sat there in his own personal satisfaction, listening to her run. He sighed and slumped down in his seat, reaching into his pocket and brandishing his hunting knife.

He wrapped his fingers around the walnut handle and flicked it open with an expert quickness. He slid his fingers down the side of the steel, not daring to touch the edge of the blade. James kept it so sharp you wouldn’t even know you were cut until you started bleeding. It was less cruel that way. Even the vilest of people didn’t need to suffer as James took them out. That’s what made him different, or at least that’s what he told himself. He stared down at it thoughtfully, remembering the way that blood just slides right off the blade, almost as if it’s repelled by it.

No. He reprimanded himself. Flicking the blade shut and shoving it back down into his pocket. James had been in “remission” as he called it for the past three years, basically since buying the car. It was all about keeping the hands and the mind busy, and of course avoiding temptation. Which had made James become a bit of a recluse, but he couldn’t just go around killing everyone that annoyed him all willy-nilly. He was getting out of hand and had to become more careful.

James continued to tinker around and work on the car when he noticed a moving van pull into the drive-way of the house next door to his. The house had been on the market for over a year. James felt his stomach twist a little at the thought of having new neighbors right next to him. He liked his privacy, and needed it for his recovery. He heard two doors open and shut, and two voices talking excitedly to one another. James glanced over, quickly surveying the couple as they looked happily at their new house and then continued working. It was a man and a woman, late 20’s, both of them fairly physically fit. The man was on the shorter side, stocky, dark hair, had a bit of an arrogant stance to him. James immediately decided he didn’t like him. The woman was even shorter than the man. Maybe 5’2 James concluded from his brief glace. Long blond hair, athletic but shapely body…pretty, James determined.

James had always been able to observe, collect and process a formidable amount of information in mere seconds. It was almost a savant skill of his. It had gotten him out of more sticky situations than he could count. It’s what made him such a good predator. He was almost too good at it.

James finished what he was working on and shut the hood of the car. The sound of it slamming down made the two love-birds next door break their conversation and look over his way. The woman smiled brightly at him. “Hi there!” She waved over cheerfully and began walking across the grass towards him. Her other-half, cutting his eyes at James, blatantly glaring as he followed after her.

Oh great, James internally grimaced as his mouth formed a dazzling white smile. “Well, hello there new neighbors!” He said, matching her friendliness. She smiled at him as she reached his drive-way, her partner close behind her, not looking too happy, but his demeanor seemed to change within in a split second. “Hello, I’m Graham Moretti. This is my beautiful Fiancé Miranda.” He said in a thick New Yorker accent. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him with a grin, whilst extending his free hand to James for a handshake. Possessive, James noted to himself as he grabbed the rag off of the hood of the car to politely wipe the grease from his hands before taking it. Graham squeezed James’s with a little more force than necessary, but James just smiled again. “James. Nice to meet you both.”

Miranda chucked uncomfortably as she slid out of Graham’s grasp. James could see a flicker of annoyance flash in Graham’s eyes, but she slid her hand into his and he seemed satisfied by that. “People just call me Mandy. So, have you lived here long?” She asked looking up at James who was considerably taller than them both at six foot.

“Yeah. About five years.” He replied sliding his hands in his front pocket and leaning back against the car. Graham was eyeing the car behind him but didn’t mention anything about it as James continued talking. “It’s a nice neighborhood. It’s really quiet, good place to start a family.” He glanced down at the monstrosity of a diamond on her petite finger. He had already concluded that the couple made a considerable amount of money by the way they were dressed. Designer clothes and shoes. Graham had a thick gold Rolex watch adorning his overly hairy wrist.

“Yeah I just loved this neighborhood. It’s just so quaint and secluded. Plus I really love a fixer-upper, It has its original charm but you can make it your own, you know?” She grinned looking back at the dilapidated white house. James nodded. “Understand completely. You should have seen my girl here when I first brought her home.” He said, referencing to the car behind him. Miranda smiled again. And James was getting aggravated with the small talk and the fact that everyone was just standing around with permanent smiles. Although, James thought that Graham seemed to have the most trouble holding the charade.

“Well she is beautiful.” Miranda said, lifting her hand to gesture to it. “Thanks I-“ James started but Graham cut him off. “Well, it’s much easier taking care of a car than a woman, am I right?” Graham slapped James forcefully on the shoulder and James squeezed the knife in his pocket at the unwarranted physical contact. Before James could respond Graham continued “I’d have much rather moved into a luxury apartment in east Manhattan. But Mandy here was adamant about wanting to raise a family outside of the city. The commute to work will be a bitch, but happy wife happy life.” He squeezed her hand and pulled her into a kiss. Miranda winced against his mouth from the pressure on her fingers.

Graham was proprietorial and egotistical little bully and James was tired from this social interaction. He just wanted to walk inside and slam the door without another word, but he had to keep his nice guy façade, he didn’t need anyone to be suspicious of him should he have a relapse, and Graham, James knew, was one of those people that could origin such a relapse.

James walked around the car and began picking up his tools that were scattered across the drive-way and putting them into his tool box. It was a way to begin to dissipate the conversation. “So what do you do in the city Graham?” James asked, noticing that Miranda was rubbing her fingers as Graham let go of her hand. He pulled his phone from his pocket and began typing something on it whilst smirking at whatever he was reading. “Venture Capitalist. Wall Street.” James could tell that Graham was also over the small talk. “What about you Jim?” He asked, clearly not interested as he slid his phone back into his pocket. “It’s James.” He corrected him, but Graham pretended not to hear him. James continued cleaning up, unbothered. Noticing a mark on the front bumper of the car, he grabbed the rag and buffed it off. “Oh, I’m just figuring out my options right now. I’m not really sure what I want to do. Might open my own garage or body shop. Thinking about it.” Graham smirked smugly, nodding his head, thinking that James didn’t see it. “I see. Well, if you change your mind and ever need something. Come talk to me. I’m sure there are a lot of jobs for like maintenance or something.” Miranda smacked him lightly in the side and gave him a look, which he shrugged off.

“Well, I think it’s a great idea to figure out what you’re really passionate about before committing your life to it.” Miranda interjects. Graham rolls his eyes. “Yeah well, you’d know all about that sweetheart.” He retorts. Miranda’s face falls a bit but before she can respond he puts his hand on the small of her back and gives her a little push back towards their house. “We really should get this moving though. I knew we should have just hired someone to do it, but my lady likes spending quality time together. Nice meeting you Jim!” He shouts back as he steers Miranda back towards the house. “Bye!” She yells as she gets herded home.

“See you around.” James replies as he picks up the rest of his stuff and puts it back into the garage. He grunts and slumps his shoulders a bit, finally glad to be free of them. James was more than annoyed now. He knew that these people could end up being more than a nuisance for him if he wasn’t careful. He checked his watch. He was going to skip the meeting tonight since he had been feeling good lately, but after that intolerable social interaction, he thought it would be best to go.

He closed the garage behind him and walked around to the driver’s side, opening the door and sliding in. It was starting to get dark outside. James looked over at the house next door and realized he could see straight through into their living and dining room when they had the lights on. He could see Miranda and Graham speaking animatedly to one another. Both of them seemed angry. Even though he couldn’t hear them, he knew they were shouting at each other.

James rolled his eyes and started up the car, but he found himself unable to stop watching. Graham was getting angrier as the second ticked by. His face and neck was red, he was shouting at Miranda and spit was flying from his mouth. Like a rabid dog, James thought. James had spent the majority of his life trying to stay in control of his emotions. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had blown up in anger, if he ever had. He was meticulous and calculating with his emotion, vengeful.

James shook his head, realizing that they could easily look out the window and see him sitting there staring into their house like some kind of weirdo. He started up the car and put it in reverse. Not wanting to turn on the headlights until he was on the road, so he wouldn’t bring attention to himself. He backed out of the drive way. As he drove passed the house he took one last glance over at the window. Just in time to see Graham raise his hand and hit Miranda across the face with the back of his palm. She stumbled and fell into the wall, raising her own hands up to block the following throws.

James flicked on the headlights as he drove passed and to the end of the street to the stop sign. James gripped the wheel and took a deep breath. He really shouldn’t get involved. Miranda seemed like a nice enough woman. Pretty and thoughtful albeit a bit naïve, he didn’t think she deserved to be treated that way. As long as they were having their own problems they wouldn’t be bothered enough to notice him. Right, I’m not going to kill Graham. I’m not going to kill anyone. Get a grip on yourself. You’ve got this under control. You’re three years sober; you’re not going to throw it all away on that asshole. He preaches to himself as he continues driving, glad that today is Wednesday and that he can go to a meeting to end this insatiable feeling that’s been growing all day.

It’s only a ten minute drive to the local Lutheran Church. James pulls into the parking lot and finds a spot up close. There are only about ten cars tonight. James feels a little relieved that it’s a small outcome this week. He turns off the engine and gets out of the car, wishing he’d gone into the house to grab his coat as it’s getting pretty chilly since the sun went down. He gets to the church doors and breathes in once deeply. He can see his breath in the air as he exhales.

He opens the door and walks inside. The first thing he sees is a large Crucifix hanging in the middle of the church in between the pews. He lowers his gaze instinctively. Churches always made James a little uncomfortable, considering. He turns to his left and walks down the hallway towards the community room, feeling thankful that they had the meetings in there and not in the main part of the church.

Inside the room there are a few people standing by the counter drinking coffee and chatting. Everyone else is sitting in a circle, around this week’s chairperson. His name was Ralph if James remembered correctly. He was a very large, very fat man. James was worried that the plastic chair beneath him would snap at any second. He had a wide, paunchy face, and his cheeks were red as if just sitting there was making him winded. He had no hair on his head or face, but always looked annoyingly happy.

James took a seat in the chair closest to the door, just in case he wanted to make a quick exit. He never did, but he was always thinking of ways to escape any situation or place that he was in. Ralph clears his throat and asks everyone if they are ready to start the meeting. Nobody answers, but grumbled their way into their seats. That doesn’t bother Ralph as he continues being his chirpy self. He begins by reading the preamble, followed by the serenity prayer, which only a quarter of the others mumble with him. James stays silent in the back.

Afterwards, Ralph grabs the note book in his lap and flips it open and reads through the usual briefs of how the meetings will go, how it works, etcetera. “So…” He concludes after his monotone reading. “Is there any new-comers who would like to introduce themselves tonight?” He asks looking around the room. Mostly everyone is looking down at their coffee cups in their laps. Nobody says anything. Ralph looks around the room and before James can avoid it, he makes direct eye contact with him.

“How about you kid? I’ve seen you here for a while now and haven’t heard a peep. Why don’t you introduce yourself and get to know everyone!” He smiles at James and nods enthusiastically, his chins jiggling beneath his face. James internally curses himself, feeling like the universe is picking on him today. But he smiles that perfectly straight white smile of his in response.

“No problem Ralph.” He leans forward in his chair, uncrossing his arms. “My name is James Walker.” Everyone chants “Hi James!” Sluggishly back to him. James nods in response and continues, “And I’m…” he pauses, a serial killer. “I’m an alcoholic.”