Death; Juxtaposed

By

George W. Parker

Copyright © 2017 George W. Parker

initial print edition - II

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced

in any form without the permission of George W. Parker.

Cover design by Angeline Collier.

Chapter 1

“Just leave him,” Mark said setting his half empty glass down on the bar of the Stoneleigh P. “It's easy.”

He turned slightly in his chair toward Mary. “You just pack a bag and as you walk out the door you stop, turn around and say, 'Al, I don't love you anymore. I'm moving in with Mark Edwards. You know Mark, the tall, good looking guy at the office.' Then you leave. It's as easy as that.” Mark tucked his elbows in at his sides, raised his hands, palms up, and shrugged his shoulders emphasizing the point. He turned back to the bar and picked up his drink.

Mary was thirty-six, two years older than Mark. She sat sideways in her chair staring at him. Her bright green eyes blazed. Small framed and very attractive, her light brown hair was cut short and parted on the left side.

“It's not as easy as that and you know it. This is not some college live-in compatibility test I've been taking. We're talking about ten years of marriage. You don't just pack a bag and tell someone to take a hike.”

“Sure you do,” Mark said turning to face her. “That's exactly the way you do it. People do it all the time.”

“Well I'm not one of them,” Mary snapped back. She picked up her margarita from the counter and took a long drink.

Mark watched, allowing a little time for her to cool down. He was a tall man with dark brown eyes. His short black hair was swept back from his forehead giving him a formidable look. It went well with his “up and coming” reputation at the law firm where he and Mary worked.

He put his right hand on Mary's knee and asked, “Do you love Alfred Martin?”

Mary looked down at the floor shaking her head, “I don't know.”

Mark moved his hand to her face and touched her cheek. Mary slowly brought her eyes up to meet his. “Do you love me?” he asked. She smiled slightly and nodded her head.

“Then everything will work itself out, won't it?”

Mary nodded again.

“So I won't push anything faster than it can go, alright?” He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. “We need to get on out of here,” he said as he stood up. “Got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“I don't even want to think about tomorrow,” Mary said, reluctant to leave.

“We can't stay here all evening. You want to go over to my place?”

“Yes, I do,” Mary answered, “but I guess I should go home. It's getting late and Al will be worried.”

“You could still call him, say you're stuck at the office,” Mark suggested. His right-hand softy brushed the nape of Mary's neck.

“No,” she sighed and stood up. “You're right, tomorrow will be a tough day.” Her green eyes smiled up at him. “And you'll need all your strength.” Mary moved away toward the front door before Mark could answer. He tossed some money on the bar and hurried after her.

Catching up he slipped his arm around her waist and asked, “What is that suppose to mean?”

Mary laughed and moved closer to him. “Well it means, you can't drink all day and love all night and still expect to set the world on fire in the morning.”

They reached the front of the bar. Mark released his hold on Mary and opened the door. He followed her out onto the sidewalk where he again wrapped an arm around her. The traffic on Maple Avenue was light. The lights of the high-rises downtown reflected against low hanging clouds. The mid-November night was warm and moist.

“That's what you say, but you know better. I can drink all week and love all month and still beat any D.A. in this town,” Mark laughed. “You know I'm a fusion device. I can't be stopped.” He pulled Mary close and they kissed.

When they separated Mary said in a low voice, “That is all very well sir, but, that, is a personal opinion. Can you present expert witnesses to support that opinion?”

“Yes I can Counselor.” They kissed again. “I can call twenty or thirty witnesses if you want me to.” He laughed as Mary pulled away in mock anger.

“You cad! You've been toying with me.”

Mark smiled, “Well, yes I have been. Would you care to be toyed with some more?”

Mary moved back close, “Yes I would, thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

They walked down the sidewalk toward their cars.

“I hate this kind of weather,” Mary said. “It makes all my clothes stick to me.”

“I can help you with that,” Mark laughed.

“I know you can, but for the moment, I wish it would just rain and get it over with.”

“Give it a chance, it will.”

At their cars they kissed again, pressing against each other tightly. Holding Mary close Mark said, “I really don't mean to push so hard. I just want to be with you all the time. You know that don't you?”

“Yes, I know that. Now just hush.” They kissed again. Before pulling away she poked a finger into Mark's chest and said, “You be careful driving home.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” Mark saluted.

Laughing at his antics Mary opened her car door and slid in behind the BMW's wheel. She closed the car door and said, “See you in the morning,” through the window.

Mark smiled as he watched her start the car and back out. They waved good-bye as she pulled onto the street and sped away.

Mark felt a light misting of rain on his left cheek. Suddenly, in a span of seconds, the night sky opened up and released a terrific downpour. Mark scrambled into his Porsche.

The rain beat heavily against the windshield of Mary's BMW, flooding the glass surface faster than the wipers could clear it. She drove cautiously through the downtown streets leaning forward, squinting through the windshield, combating the effects of both the rain and the drinks, her mind racing from her conversation.

“Mark's right, all I have to do is tell him. It's not like it would surprise him. I can't remember the last time we actually enjoyed being together.” She stared forward resolutely.

“Jesus, you'd think after ten years you'd find something to keep you together.” She slowed the car even further as she made her way onto Pearl Street. Downtown was empty.

The wipers beat rapidly back and forth. The rain pounded down on the car. Visibility was a few feet.

“All I have to do is tell him,” she said firmly.

Well ahead of her the traffic signals at the intersection of Bryan and Pearl Streets went through their cycle: green lights to yellow, the white “walk“ figure changing into a pulsing red, then yellow lights to red with the red figure stricken solid by the slash through his body.

Mary was at the intersection before she saw the lights through the rain. Instinctively she slammed on the brakes, locking up the wheels on the BMW, sending it skidding wildly on the flooded street into the intersection. Frantically she fought to control the car, to keep it from ramming one of the light poles.

The car's low speed was Mary's savior. The momentum drained quickly away and car came to a stop.

“Shit!” Mary swore slumping forward onto the steering wheel in nervous exhaustion. “God, I can't believe I didn't hit something,” relief filled her voice. She rose up and looked through the rain-encased windows of the car. “I'd better move before some fool out here runs into me.”

Shifting the car into reverse Mary backed up several feet and turned the car back to its original direction. She headed for home leaving the lights cycling their color patterns in the rain.

Chapter 2

Al walked along the beach, the ocean on his right. The night was cloudless. The moon brightly illuminated the shore. The sand was dark near the water, loose and white away from it. Long, low breakers rolled in from the sea. Al stopped and watched.

Out in the sea the moonlight shimmered silvery. Beneath the sheen, swells joined and moved to the beach where they pounded against the miles of white sand. Repeatedly the sand stole their power and returned the waves to the ocean as a thin foam.

The battle of the shoreline was calming. Al turned away only after securing for himself the knowledge the fight would continue unaltered in his absence.

He walked along the beach past driftwood formed into fantastic images by the moonlight. Small sand dunes topped with wildly tasseled grasses rose on his left. Small animals scurried in the dunes unconcerned. Stopping, he bent and freed a small, fan shaped shell from the sand. He smoothed the loose grains away from its sides. In the soft light the shell was a light, pastel pink. For a long time Al examined the shell, then with a short step and a quick toss he cast it into the surf.

Al walked a long distance. The sky began to change. The wind rose in strength. The beach darkened, the moon disappeared behind dense clouds. White caps formed out on the ocean. The waves grew in their turbulence and crashed against the beach. Al walked faster.

Out in the ocean a wave grew and rushed forward, gaining height and power. Al, running, watched over his shoulder, as the wave leaped from the sea.

The wave fell on him like a brick wall, knocking the wind out of him. Engulfed in the onrushing water, he turned over and over and over, fighting to find the surface and air. The salty taste of the ocean forced its way into his mouth as the receding crest of the wave pulled him down deeper.

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A high-pitched, electronic bleeping noise sounded. The alarm on the clock, it never failed to bring Al out of his sleep.

Lying on his left side, his head secured under a pillow, Al's body reacted to the warning call. Fighting out from under the pillow, then half sitting up, he groped for the clock on the nightstand and pressed the small button on its top, squelching the noise. Rising to a full sitting position, he swung his legs out from under the warm covers and got out of bed.

The alarm never woke Mary. She continued to sleep peacefully; her only reaction to Al's rising was to roll onto his side of the king size bed.

Al carefully crossed through the dark bedroom to the bathroom and shut the door. He flipped on the lights edging the mirror. Their brightness flooded the lavatory. He saw nothing but red spots for seconds. When his vision cleared enough to trust his neck to a razor he washed and lathered his face. Leaning over the sink, razor in hand, staring into the mirror he tasted the ocean's brine.

Chapter 3

Al and Mary sat at their small glass and chrome table in the breakfast area, drinking coffee. A few months younger than Al Mary, still wearing her robe, looked relaxed, sipping slowly from her cup. Even just out of bed her face looked calm, unruffled. Without make-up, her lightly colored eyelashes were almost invisible; her green eyes brightly exposed.

Her elbows rested on the table. She held her cup in both hands and peered across the table at him, thinking, “Just tell him. 'Al I don't love you anymore.' It's as easy as that. That's all it takes. How hard does it have to be?” Her stomach churned at the thoughts. Her mouth was dry, unmoistened by the coffee she drank.

Al stood up from the table to refill his cup. He was dressed in a Dallas business uniform; dark blue suit, white shirt, quietly patterned silk tie, and a pair of tasseled, Bostonians. “I went to bed a little early last night. What time did you get in?”

Mary looked at him thinking, “What does he mean by that?” She sipped her coffee before answering, her court training at work.

“It was a little after eleven. We've got that bankruptcy thing going on so we ate Chinese in the office. And that rain.” Mary shook her head. “I wasn't sure I would make it home.”

Al picked up the coffee pot. “Did it finally rain?”

“Well yes. Cats and dogs,” Mary smiled. Then she added, “I guess you were sleeping so soundly you didn't hear me or the storm.”

“I guess I didn't.” He poured coffee into his cup. In an off hand fashion he said, “I went to the coast again last night.” He turned quickly to replace the coffee pot on the counter hoping to dodge the inevitable.

“Oh Lord, here it goes again,” Mary thought to herself. “Why can't he just be sensible like he used to be? God, give me the strength to tell him I'm leaving!”

Al walked back to the table without looking at Mary. He sat back down at the table and looked across to Mary, waiting. Al cut his eyes away when she looked at him.

She watched him a long time, calming herself, before asking, “Was it like before?”

Al looked up at her and bobbed his head in a yes reply, adding, “Pretty much so.” He told her what had happened in his dream.

She sat quietly watching his mouth as he talked. Inside she fought against screaming at him.

Al finished his story. They were quiet.

Mary said, “I don't know where you get those dreams. I wish you wouldn't have them. You know they upset me.”

“They upset me too. That's why I have to talk about it.” Al paused gathering his thoughts. “They're not dreams. They're more than that.” His fear of the dreams showed itself as he snapped, “And it's not like I ask for them you know.”

He rubbed the back of his neck where a tightness was beginning. “But in some ways I do like them.”

“Jesus, Al! How can you say that?” Mary demanded. She glared across the table. She set her cup down and planted her hands solidly on the table.

Al took a long, slow drink of his coffee before he spoke. “Don't try any of that lawyer crap on me Mary. I've seen it before. Save it for the office.” He looked levelly across the table into Mary's eyes. “Whenever I think about that beach I feel content. I'm comfortable there. It feels good. It scares me. But there is something good there.”

“Shit,” Mary interjected. “How can you feel comfortable under an ocean?”

“I don't know,” Al shrugged. “But it's true,” he stated enthusiastically. “Even when I'm under the ocean I feel good, happy.”

“Dead. That's what you feel.”

“No, no it's not dead,” he argued. “It's good. I know it's good.”

“Alfred Martin, you are full of shit,” Mary said evenly. “And you're late for work.” She stood up to leave the table.

“I couldn't care less about that damn place.” Al sat at the table, unmoving. “I'd much rather go to the beach, hadn't you?”

“You're serious, aren't you?”

“Of course I'm serious. Wouldn't you love to go to the beach? Walk in the moonlight? You use to like that.”

“Jesus, Al, what have we been working for? A walk on a beach?” Mary's hands gripped the chair in front of her. “We're just now getting somewhere. And you want to ditch everything because of a dream. You make me so god damned mad! I'm working so I can do what I want, go where I want, and in style. Not bum around on a beach somewhere.” She spun away from the table and stormed off to the bathroom.

“I didn't say anything about bumming around on the beach,” Al added to himself. “But it's not a bad idea.” He rose from the table and cleared it, putting the dishes into the dishwasher.

Chapter 4

When Al left the apartment Mary was still in the bathroom. It was warm outside and misting rain. He hurried to the covered parking area. The cars were closely parked under the awning. Al was careful of his clothes as he squeezed into his Navy blue Cougar. He started the car, backed out, and headed for the freeway.

He worked for an advertising agency on the west side of Dallas. While their condo was a five-minute drive east of Mary's downtown office it was a thirty-minute drive for him, if the traffic was good. From their apartment there was no quick way to his office near Texas Stadium. He fought the traffic across four freeway systems playing his radio tuner like a video game, from New Wave to Oldies to Classical and back, punching up a different station after every song.

Mary sat at her bedroom dresser peering into the brightly lit double-sided make-up mirror before her. She was almost finished. Using a fine tipped brush she was carefully applying lip liner, her mouth filled the confines of the enlarging convex mirror as she leaned forward. About midway down the right side of her upper lip Mary's hand twitched nervously. The tip of the liner brush danced out of control.

“Shit,” Mary snapped. She threw the brush down on the dresser and reached for a tissue to correct the make-up line.

“All you have to do is tell him,” she said dabbing at her lip. Shaking her head she laughed derisively, “Easier said than done.”

Setting the tissue down Mary examined the damage done to her make-up. “It'll have to do. My hands are shaking too bad to get it any better.” She flipped the mirror around and looked into the normal reflection side, appraising the over all look of her make-up.

“Peter Pan you're not, not anymore,” Mary smiled. “You can't stay young for ever.” Now added alongside her smile there was an increase in visible lines around both her eyes and mouth. “You've got to grow up.” She thought of Al and their past as she said it.

The semester before Mary transferred to SMU Law School, there was a beautiful fall afternoon in Waco when both she and Al were in undergraduate school. They went to the five and dime near the courthouse and bought a thirty-five cent wooden glider. And they spent the afternoon laughing together, chasing after the looping, sailing toy.

“You've got to grow up sometime Al,” Mary repeated. “Those kinds of days don't last forever. You'll just have to be a man about it and admit this is your life, our life? We can have everything we could ever ask for, if you'd put your mind to it.”

Mary shook her head still looking at her own face. “Instead, you're making me see someone else. It's not fair Al. You are part of my life. I just want to be happy.”

After forty-seven minutes in traffic Al reached the office parking lot, a large, flat shopping center size area. He had not heard a complete song during the entire drive. There were several empty reserve spots Al passed before he found a place to park. It was not too far from the building entrance. He hurried across the wet parking lot and through the double glass door entry to the bank of elevators. Several people pushed onto the first available car along with him. Al asked someone to push four for him. The full elevator was quiet as it made its stops.

Once on the fourth floor Al stopped first at the men's room. He said hello to a couple of the men already there. After the men's room he walked into the office and he made his way to the coffee pot, poured himself a large Styrofoam cup full before proceeding on to his cube. He was glad to see he was not the last one to make it in. Never the first one in the office he always fought hard not to be the last one out in the evenings.

Despite the rainy weather it was cool in the office, the air conditioning was running full tilt. Al's jacket felt comfortable on him. Making his way to his table he said hello to several people in passing.

The office, an open work area, was large and spacious with ample room for the fifteen drafting tables set within modular walls. The room was on the south side of the building; two large banks of windows ran the length of the south wall. Louvered mini-blinds over the windows allowed adjustment of the incoming sunlight. From a lighting standpoint the southern exposure was economical but when the Texas summer, May through October, had a hold, the air-conditioning never stopped pumping.

Al's table was in the far back corner away from the windows. There was nothing distinctive about it, an artist/drafting table, adjustable height chair, pen and pencil holder, and the like encased by four-foot movable walls.

A sweater lay on the seat of the Al's chair. Al keep the sweater at the office to fight off the cold atmosphere of the building. He set his cup of coffee down on the table, pulled his coat off, and hung it on the back of the chair. He picked up the crew neck sweater and began to pull it on.

Al's head was hidden in the midst of the sweater, his arms raised over his head when Robin Collins walked into the office with Kim Williams. Robin was twenty-four years old with long auburn hair. Her eyes were green but not as bright or as deep as Mary's eyes. Robin was still young. She had been out of college now for less than two years. From across the room Robin saw the exposed position Al was in. She did not mind taking advantage of it.

Kim was a slight built woman eight years older than Robin. They had become good friends in the year and a half they had worked together. Kim enjoyed Robin's sense of humor. Robin enjoyed having fun. And Kim liked that type of attitude. Kim followed Robin's eyes over to Al, and she laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” Robin smiled.

“Because I know how you think.”

“Well,” Robin answered, “he is adorable. Like a big kid all tied up in his sweater.”

“This kid is married,” Kim replied a little sternly.

“You know as well as I do, that can change.”

“Oh, I know that too well,” Kim agreed. “I've done it twice myself.” Kim shrugged her shoulders. “Well, you had better go get him.” She smiled watching Robin move toward Al. “Love. It must be nice, for someone.” Shaking her head knowingly Kim walked to her work cube.

Robin slipped up quietly behind Al and just when he had his arms highest above his head she goosed him viciously in the ribs.

“Oh shit!” Al swore as he furiously struggled with the sweater trying to avoid the next pinch, the one he knew was on its way. “Robin! I know it's you. Give me a break,” he pleaded as he turned this way and that hoping to thwart her.

“Shit!” he cursed as her hand darted in again. He got the sweater down over his head and his eyes quickly found her.

She stood before him, a slight blush on her face. He found her very attractive.

He looked quickly to see if anyone was watching as he said, “I wish you wouldn't do that. God I hate that.”

Robin flashed a gleaming smile at Al. He smiled warmly back.

“You love it and don't try to deny it!” Her voice was filled with a laugh as she spoke. He loved to hear her talk.

Ignoring the comment Al said, “Get out of here so I can do some work. This thing has got to go out today and you only distract me.” He tried to act mad but the glow about his face belied the tone. He was a poor liar.

“I'll leave only on the condition that you have lunch with me. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“I'll be waiting, so don't forget.” Robin turned and walked toward to her table across the room. Al followed her form with his eyes as she crossed the room. Robin exchanged several “Good mornings,” with co-workers as she passed. She was well liked in the office.

When he lost sight of her Al tuned back to his work. He sat down, resting his elbows on the table, leaning his head down onto his hands. He stared at the art board on the table. “I hate this kind of crap. It's not art.” He was working on a half-page magazine ad for a local hotel, a weekend away from the house package. His thoughts returned to the beach scene. He turned the dream over and over in his mind. What was the point of it?

With a great deal of effort he forced his mind onto the job at hand. And then everything clicked. The ad seemed to design itself and the morning was over before Al realized it. He looked at his watch; it was a quarter to twelve. “Good,” he thought, “just in time for lunch.”

The hands on the watch blurred, then doubled, then came back

Into focus, a sharp, crisp focus. Al's eyes rolled up into their sockets and he fell out of his chair to the floor

Chapter 5

From the twenty-sixth floor of One Main Place you could see West Dallas and the Trinity River stretching out below. Mary seldom looked at the meager stream of water moving between the levees. She sat at her desk, her back to the window, her attention fixed on the legal brief spread out before her.

The office door in front of her opened and Mark Edwards entered. Mary noticed his entry but did not look up from her work.

“Hello there,” he said sweetly to Mary. “How are you this morning?”

She looked up quickly from her work to answer, “Busy as hell. How about you?” She went back to the brief.

“Well,” Marked laughed. “You seem a little testy to me. But me now, I'm just fine, now that I'm in here.” He walked around behind Mary. Placing his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs on either side of her neck, he began to massage.

Mary's head rose up slightly under the pressure and the pleasure of the hands. Her body eased itself upwards too. “Yes Al, this is what life is supposed to be about,” she thought as she pressed up against the strong hands.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so bitchy.” Mary's eyes closed as Mark continued to kneed her neck muscles.

He bent down and kissed her softly on the back of the neck. His lips moved to her cheek.

“Don't,” Mary said softly. She shook her head slightly from side to side to stop his warm lips. Her eyes remained closed as she said, “I don't have time for that right now. If I don't get this done before lunch I won't be able to buy lunch.”

“I'll be happy to buy your lunch whether you finish or not,” Mark said as he straighten up from his kissing.

Mary spun her chair around quickly, reached up and pulled him down to her. She kissed him slowly, thoroughly. Then she released him and swung back around to her desk before he had time to react.

“Well now, Mary“ Mark grinned. “That's really not fair is it?”

“All's fair you know,” she said laughing. “Now get out of here before I call for help. And be back here at twelve so we can go to lunch,” she ordered.

“You bet your life I'll be here. I love take charge women.” He caressed her neck lightly one more time with his fingers then turned away smiling.

Watching Mark walk to the door a grimace took the place of the smile on Mary's face. “All I have to do is tell Al. Then it'll be over and I can get my life back under control. Damn it Al, it wasn't supposed to be this way!” Mark exited the office and the door swung slowly closed behind him. Mary put head back down and went to work.