- Details
- By: DJ Geribo
- In: A.L.L.
- Published:
Distracted while planning a fool-proof and speedy suicide, Eva never noticed everyone who was enjoying the view and the cool breezes on a hot, late July afternoon suddenly leave the area, en masse, almost running to their vehicles and driving off.
And then she saw. Standing at her car, her faded blue 12-year old Toyota Corolla, was a policeman, writing a ticket. A God-damn ticket. Barely able to pay her rent for a two-bedroom apartment, a ticket was definitely not in her budget. She walked as if to the gas-chamber, would there be a final meal? And up to the man in blue.
“Is this your car?” He didn’t look at her but continued in his mission.
“Yes, why am I getting a ticket?”
“There’s no parking here after 4pm.” He lifted his right hand and using the pen as a pointer gestured in the direction of the sign on a pole stuck in the sand. He finished writing the ticket and tore it off the pad, handing it to Eva. He could probably do this in his sleep, she thought. Still no eye contact.
Eva didn’t reach for the ticket. She turned to face the ocean. She was back to planning.
“Maybe I’ll just drive my car into the ocean.” She wasn’t sure if she said it out loud or if it was just another idea that could work like ‘How to Commit Suicide #5 – Drive your car into the ocean.’ She turned toward the policeman and finally met his eyes. They were a bright blue, kind and concerned. He searched hers for answers. A tear spilled out of the corner of her left eye and slid down her face, stopping at the corner of her mouth. She reached toward the ticket just as it was pulled away and torn up.
“Don’t do that. Stay as long as you want.” She watched him get back into his cruiser and drive slowly away. Eva took one last look at the ocean and the sun peeking out from behind a cotton ball cloud. She got into her Corolla and drove home.
- Details
- By: DJ Geribo
- In: A.L.L.
- Published:
No man was worth it, she told herself more than once. And then like an earthquake where one building after another crumbles to the ground, her life began to break off in huge chunks, starting with Jeremy leaving her after three years of a mostly solid relationship. They had their differences like any couple. But he was a cheater – always was, always would be. She knew, deep down, it was a matter of time before his eye would wander and he would find a new dessert that he just had to have a bite of. And now she had to find a roommate since she could not afford the rent on her secretary’s salary. His leaving meant she had to place an ad and interview people to rent the 2nd bedroom. In other words, it was creating work for her that she didn’t want like when someone hits your car that you were not responsible for but it is a big inconvenience because you are without a vehicle while it is being repaired just because you were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Jeremy just packed a bag and then a few days later got a friend to help him move a few pieces of furniture. Done and gone. And she had to clean up the mess he left behind, mostly the broken pieces of her heart. This was followed by a falling out with a friend she had a disagreement with where they both said things they didn’t mean but needed to say. And then, of course, her father was dying.
To be continued....
- Details
- By: DJ Geribo
- In: A.L.L.
- Published:
She stood looking out at the ocean, still, the gentle rippling along the shore, the horizon hazy, distant, hypnotic in its monotonous regularity. Just walking in didn’t appeal to her. Maybe finding a higher precipice and jumping off would suffice. And she was sure she would jump since high places always beckoned her to the edge. Like an accident you come upon that you don’t want to see but can’t stop yourself from looking at, one misstep and she would plunge to her death. That was the point, after all, so shying away from that choice didn’t make sense. She was, though, looking for something that offered a faster result. She didn’t want time to think and she knew that once she jumped she would regret it all the way down before her body hit the ragged ocean rocks below. No, it had to be quick. Maybe throwing a handful of pills in her mouth and drinking water fast would do it. Pills, what kind of pills? A bottle of aspirin? Would that even work? She was sure she needed something stronger.
To be continued....
- Details
- By: DJ Geribo
- In: A.L.L.
- Published:
In the restaurant they were seated immediately, a perfect table in a corner, very private, cozy, warm and inviting. Stacy felt like she would burst she was so happy. She looked at each of them sitting around her; Jeremy, chatting with his dad, his dad, glancing at Stacy and giving her a wink, and his mom, sitting like she was being punished, with her hands folded on the table in front of her, that same worried, fearful look in her eyes. She stared straight ahead at a painting on the wall. It was from The Phantom of the Opera, the Phantom with his mask and the woman he seduced standing in horror beside him, a hand up to her face, covering her mouth.
“It was a beautiful play, did you see it?” Stacy figured she might as well try to have a conversation with her, let his mom see that she certainly wasn’t a threat. But his mom didn’t respond and continued to stare at the painting.
Stacy thought maybe she was hard of hearing and decided to speak up.
“Jeremy and I saw the play a few weeks ago. It was just beautiful, did you see it, The Phantom of the Opera?” This time his mom did hear her and turned, slowly, toward Stacy. Absolute horror filled her face. Her eyes were large, teary blue, warm and caring despite the fearful look in them. She tried to speak.
“I…I just…” Jeremy came to her rescue – he observed the attempt Stacy made to converse with his mom and the blank stare Stacy received back.
“Mom hasn’t been feeling very well lately, right mom? It’s ok, Stacy. Don’t worry, she’ll be fine, right mom?”
His mom turned slowly toward Jeremy. She stared at him as if he wasn’t there, as if she was still staring at that painting.
Jeremy smiled at Stacy ignoring his mom and turned back to his dad. They were talking about some sports team. Stacy wasn’t interested and figured Jeremy needed a little time to bond with his dad.
Suddenly, his mom got up from the table.
“Ladies room” is all she said and headed towards the sign to her right.
“I’ll go, too” Stacy said and jumped up.”
“No!” Jeremy leaped out of his chair. Stacy stopped and stared at him, surprised by his almost violent reaction.
“We’re just going to the ladies room – we’ll be right back. Order an appetizer, will you please, you know what I like.” Stacy blew him a kiss across the table. But before she turned to leave she couldn’t help but think how much Jeremy’s expression resembled his mother’s.
In the ladies room, Stacy looked around but didn’t see his mom. Two stalls were taken. A plump woman in a too-tight dress that made her flushed face look like a pimple ready to burst came out of one stall, washed her hands, puffed up her hair and left. Jeremy’s mom came out and looked up to see Stacy smiling at her.
“How are you feeling, are you ok? You seem really wor….” Jeremy’s mom rushed over to Stacy and grabbed her hands. She held them tightly in hers.
“Oh please, you must leave, you must leave Jeremy and never see him again.”
“What, why, why are you saying this, what’s wrong?” She was beginning to believe what Jeremy had said, that his mom ‘wasn’t feeling well’, was code for ‘my mom is nuts.’
“You must save yourself before it is too late. Please, promise me that you’ll leave him now, tonight, before it is too late. Please.”
“Why, what is wrong, why are you saying this to me?”
His mom looked into Stacy’s eyes, searching, as if by staring hard into her eyes she could convince her somehow to do as she was asking. Begging, holding Stacy’s hands until they were hurting, crushing Stacy’s hands in hers. And then looking around the room, quietly, with desperation in every word, every breath she took, hoping that Stacy would understand, would do as she asked tonight, this very minute, leave her son before it was too late. And then she said the words.
“I think my son is a serial killer.”
- Details
- By: DJ Geribo
- In: A.L.L.
- Published:
Just as these thoughts were going through her head Jeremy walked in the door.
“Hey babe, are you almost ready? We have dinner reservations at 7:30. We can’t be late or they’ll give them away.”
“I’m ready, just waiting for you. How about a kiss?”
His passion was consuming – she felt like she was drowning, just from a kiss. He gave it his all, just like everything else he did.
“Ok, I’ll meet you downstairs. My parents will already be there, waiting.”
“Don’t you want to freshen up, unpack? You did just literally walk in the door.”
“No, I’m good, I washed up at the airport, I’m fine.”
“Ok, I’m right behind you.”
And he was gone. She finished putting on her lipstick, Pink Paradise, not her usual Ruby Flaming Red. She didn’t know what to expect from his parents so she thought going with the pastel virgin look was best.
He was waiting in his Mercedes 450SL at the curb. She loved getting into his car, she always felt like a celebrity with cameras flashing as she slipped in, escaping the paparazzi.
“Hey beautiful, you look stunning, as usual.”
“Why thank you. You aren’t so bad yourself.” She flashed her most seductive smile at Jeremy, just to let him know what she was thinking for dessert. He flashed a smile back that she took to say, sounds good to me. It was amazing to her that they already had an unspoken language between them. Dare she say it, soulmates.
They got to the restaurant at 7:20. Jeremy’s parents were waiting out front. The valet took Jeremy’s keys and drove off in his car. Jeremy grabbed her hand as he walked up to his parents.
“Mom, dad, this is Stacy, the love of my life.”
Stacy blushed but smiled brightly for his parents.
“So nice to meet you, finally.” She took each of their hands in hers. His father was warm and friendly – Stacy could see who Jeremy took after. His mother seemed almost distracted, like she was afraid to look at Stacy, afraid to take her hand. She coughed and pulled her hand away almost as soon as she took it, as if needing an excuse not to shake hands, not to get too close. And she looked away, looked at her son, then glanced quickly at Stacy. She seemed worried, fearful. Strange, very strange, Stacy thought.
To be continued...