SHOWERED IN DOUBT

In the Summer of 2009 Troy Gooding inherited $20k from his late Father Jerry. A hard-working man. Who worked until he collapsed at work of a heart attack at fifty-three. Financially times weren’t tough but they weren’t exactly easy. Trying to save a college fund for their son Jake and soon to be born daughter Ashley.

He told his wife, Karen, that he had inherited ten thousand. They decided to put five into each child’s college fund. Troy Secretly invested the remaining ten elsewhere. Karen’s mother-in-law had let slip that all of Jerry’s children had inherited $20k each. Karen never mentioned it to Troy, though it rarely left her thoughts.

Years ticked by as they built a family home together. Troy setup his own construction company and began working from home. Starting with sixty-hour weeks they soon lowered. First to forty, later to twenty-hour weeks. Troy continued buying the latest modern comforts. Karen’s worries grew as her husband’s hours dwindled in spite of his spending habits. She wondered how he could sustain it whilst working so little. Troy spent more time away from home. Karen hired a private investigator to follow him.

Jake left for college in the Winter of 2020. Adding to the growing gap in her life. Filling the gap with thoughts of Troy’s absence. Before falling into the void one Tuesday afternoon in the Summer of 21.

The investigator showed images of Troy leaving a Cottesloe mansion on multiple occasions. Often accompanied by a beautiful young brunette.

Twenty-three years of marriage went down the drain that day, alongside Troy’s blood.

Coming home early from the meeting with the investigator she found a little black Moleskin notebook on the kitchen counter. Most pages were crosswords or other scribbled drawings. Mostly fractured coins. Letters marked in the margins. Until she reached the last page. An email address and a list of names, of which some had numbers next to them.

[email protected]

Kate

Amy

Rachel 8

Emily

Naomi 7

Rage erupted from deep within her. Karen mumbled her thoughts.

Who was the girl in the photos?

Was it Rachel?

Was it Naomi?

Years of worry bubbled as she charged upstairs to find Troy showering. She stormed through the door. Troy’s shocked look, the final nail in her decaying mentality.

“Who is Naomi?” Karen shouted, holding the page up against the shower glass.

“Home early aren’t you dear?” Troy’s smile only fuelled her rage, he hadn’t heard her come in. She swung open the glass door to murky water swirling the drain.

“What the hell is this?” she said tapping the book against the glass again.

Troy smiled his last smile as he said “The future babe”.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur for Karen. What she remembered, she wished she didn’t. A hard blow to the back of Troy’s head with a hair straightener. His body falling limp. Blood flying up painting the glass. He may have survived the initial blow. There was no surviving the other twenty-two.

One for each year of marriage.

Karen looked at her crazed bloody silhouette in the mirror. Tears soon followed as the adrenaline dump wore off, leaving her trembling. Karen cleaned up in the guest bathroom as her mind caught up to what she’d done.

Panic set in as she packed a flee bag. Stopping to grab the little black book of whores on her way out. Turning off the shower where her now late husband was slumped over. Blood pooled around the lifeless sack.

Withdrawing as much cash as possible Karen went into hiding after disposing of her mobile. Stealing cars, burner phones and sleeping in remote camp sites became routine.

A life on the run or a life in prison.

Studying the black book consumed most of her down time. No clues came forth to her. Coming to the conclusion the numbers were the seventh and eighth time Troy had strayed.

How could she have been so blind.

Walking through Jurien Bay one morning she spotted a picture of herself under a WANTED sign. She looked at her reflection next to the picture. Barely recognising the gauntly figure staring back at her. Guilt had eaten away at her. Baggy eyes and dishevelled hair. A far cry from the loving housewife pictured on the Warrant. Breaking herself away from the haunting image she saw a catholic church across the road.

Karen entered the church in a mindless haze. Taking a seat near the back. Squeezing the black book with vice like power as she began sobbing. Not noticing as the church pastor sat beside her.

“What’s wrong my child”

Karen attempted to speak; the sounds inaudible through sobbing. Throwing her head into her palms, dropping the book. The pastor picked up the damp book turning it over in his left hand, patting her shoulder with the right. Karen wiped away her tears.

“This book is the last thing I have to remember my husband” she paused looking up at the pastor “He said it was our future, its just a bunch of scribbles and bits of coins. I supposed that’s appropriate though”.

“Do you mind if I have a look” asked the pastor. Karen nodded slowly. He read the first few pages before walking off to his office for a moment. Returning with a pen.

“Do you mind if I write something in here somewhere?”

“Sure”.

The pastor flipped through to the last page before finding space to write. Karen looked up to see the pastor mouth letters. Writing them down whilst flipping through the pages. Soon arriving at the end of the book. Karen looked over his shoulder to read.

BITCOIN PASSWORD FIRST LETTER THEN NUMBERS.

Karen eyes widened as she wrote the first letter of each name, then the numbers.

KAREN87.

They married in 1987.