I woke up this morning playing "air bass". I had obviously been writing a song in my sleep. The song that was taking shape was intended to be a spoken word piece, something along the lines of "The Gift" by The Velvet Underground. I don't know...this may be too long for such a piece...but only time will tell. Until then, here is the story to go along with the song:
Theobold Sterling Mann sat enjoying his usual breakfast of tea, toast and fresh-squeezed OJ. As he did on most days, he looked impeccable in his neatly pressed Arrow shirt and Van Heusen tie, complete with his father's antique rainbow trout tie clip. His wife, Betty, was noisily crunching through her bowl of Grape Nuts but unlike most days, this multi-sensory assault was not dimming his mood. Today was the day.
17 years of marriage had robbed Betty of her looks, figure, and whatever had attracted him to her in the first place. She was, essentially, a cow. At 280 + pounds, the sight of her in her brown and white terri cloth robe reminded him of an overweight, aged Hereford. Her personality was, in his mind, on par with this comparison.
Her bloodshot brown eyes stared blankly as she munched down her feed. She had been up late watching "reality TV" again. The only reality in Sterling Mann's mind this morning was that today was the day! His plan was coming to fruition.
It was Betty's habit to take a bath most afternoons, long after Sterling had left for work and before Springer came on. Today's would be her last. Sterling had left his small radio plugged in and resting on the bathroom sink. He had also left the window next to the sink open...just enough for him to poke the radio with a twig, and send it careening into the tub...essentially fricasseeing his beloved Betty.
The sink's proximity to the bathtub was perfect. Of course, there would be an investigation but with Sterling away at work, he had the perfect alibi. His plan was to let Betty believe he had gone for the day, park his car at his office - in plain view for the world to see - then sneak back home and do the deed.
Sterling had it all planned. Betty would most likely have the radio on, listening to one of her annoying talk radio programs - the ones where the disc jockey baits his/her listeners with hot topic questions like "What are YOUR thoughts on homosexual incest?" , all the while scrubbing her massive amounts of flab with a loofah. All he had to do was climb up the back of the garage, well out of sight of the neighbors' prying eyes, keep low, and use a twig to tip the radio into the tub. A moment of electrically-induced rigidity, a flicker of the lights and it would all be over. If the breaker, for whatever reason, didn't blow and the house burned to the ground, even better. The house was insured...and so was Betty. Sterling could easily portray the emotionally scarred widower who had lost not only his beloved bride but his house as well. Betty's taste in garish collectibles were, somehow, worth a small fortune. He could potentially net a few million in insurance settlements.
His plan was simple. The back yard of their modest two story home was small but cozy and private...shielded from the world with a thick wall of evergreens and thick hedges. A few maples also lined the property and at this time of year, stray twigs were not an uncommon sight. As tall as the trees were, there were often twigs scattered about the roof. Sterling's well-known aversion to ladders kept them there. There was no way Betty would climb up and clear them and Sterling was far too frugal to pay someone else to do it.
The garage was at the back of the house and conveniently located near the bathroom window, which was very old, patterned frosted glass. Betty would often comment that she was glad that no one could see into their bathroom...and gaze upon her in all of her full-figured glory. Sterling often thought that it was bad enough that he had to lay eyes on it.
All Sterling had to do was climb up the maple nearest the garage, crawl on his belly - keeping out of view - to within a foot or so of the bathroom window, grab a twig and gently nudge his old Sony radio off of the edge of the sink and into the tub. Once finished, he would sneak back to his office and await the news of his Betty's demise. If the house happened not to burn down in the process, he would simply arrive at home at his usual time, find the electricity not working, call around the house for Betty, find her fried carcass in the tub, and call the authorities...totally bereft and devastated. It was all so simple.
"I've told her a thousand times not to put that damned radio on the sink!", he would cry to the authorities just before breaking down in a fit of crocodile tears. He had it all planned.
Sterling left for work as planned. His secretary had the day off for her niece's christening, so he would be alone in the office. No one would miss him if he was gone for a few hours. His business was such that no one ever stopped by the office and most business was handled online.
Sterling walked the few miles back to his house, keeping mostly to side streets and being cautious to not draw attention to himself. The last thing he needed was an acquaintance ruining his plan. "Hi Sterling! Fancy seeing you here! Why aren't you at the office today?"...those would be all the words he needed to hear to ruin his plan...and he wasn't about to let that happen. He had no idea when or if he would ever get this chance again. Everything had fallen in place. His secretary needing the day off, the recent rains had cleared and the weather was just nice enough for Betty to leave the bathroom window cracked without fear of neighbors ogling her nudity. Today was indeed the day!
Once back in his own neighborhood, Sterling kept a vigilant eye out for neighbors, the postman, and any assorted passersby. He could not be seen. He was oh so cautious. He slipped along the side of the house and into the back yard just after noon. It was sunny but not too warm. He could see that the bathroom window was still open...just enough to poke a stick through. All he had to do was climb on top of the garage, grab a twig and wait. His aversion to ladders and heights...never a true issue. He was just lazy when it came to chores involving any type of real labor. Sure, he would mow the lawn and trim the hedges...but climb a ladder and clear debris from the roof? Not a chance. He figured the wind would usually blow it off, and it usually did. He stopped and grabbed a twig from the slightly unkempt yard, just to be safe.
Sterling climbed the maple and made his way, as quietly as possible, on to the garage and crept up to a close but safe distance from the window. All he had to do now was wait. He could hear Betty's television blaring...she was watching a game show from the sounds of it. She was a creature of habit, just as he was. As soon as he could no longer hear the television, he knew it would soon be time.
Betty had been watching The Price Is Right. Even though she didn't like the new host, she still enjoyed watching contestants over guess the prices of things and spin the big wheel. She didn't know why she liked it...she just did. She knew that her beloved Sterling hated game shows but she was happy to be married to such a practical man. He was all about work and business. He provided her with a nice home and he never seemed too upset when she had bought a new knick knack or collectible TV tray. Sure, he would grumble from time to time...but he worked long and hard...so he needed to vent now and then. They had never been blessed with children but she was happy all the same. She was thinking that maybe she would sell some of her collectibles on EBay and surprise Sterling with a weekend getaway. They hadn't gone anywhere in years. It would be nice to get away and relax together, she thought to herself.
Betty climbed the stairs to the bathroom, feeling every day of her 47 years. She was out of breath by the time she reached the bathroom. She thought to herself, "I really need to drop a few pounds!" All morning, she felt queasy. Her diet, for the most part, was atrocious. She would snack all day long...chips, candy, popcorn, soda. No wonder she was long past fitting into her mother's wedding dress. She thought for a moment about her wedding day...how handsome Sterling looked in his tuxedo and she in the antique dress. Such a lovely couple....
Betty turned on the water in the bathtub, adjusted the temperature just so, and still feeling queasy and out of breath, decided to sit on the toilet while waiting for the tub to fill. Sterling had left his radio on the edge of the sink. While she momentarily thought that odd, she dismissed the thought and turned it on and found her favorite talk radio program. The host was fielding calls from listeners who all seemed pretty upset about all of the welfare cheats in this country. From the way it sounded, nearly everyone was mooching off the government. Betty didn't go out much, so she didn't really know...were any of their friends welfare cheats and moochers? She would have to ask Sterling when he got home. She was feeling happy that Sterling made good money and that they didn't have to be on Welfare.
Betty felt a jolt of pain shoot up her left arm. She broke out in a cold sweat and her teeth suddenly ached like nothing she had ever felt before. Then the chest pain started. It was like someone had smacked her in the chest with a sledge hammer. She was having a heart attack...just like her father. That was Betty Mann's last thought as she died. Her large frame slid against the wall next to the toilet. The tub was just about to overflow.
Outside on top of the garage, Sterling Mann laid in waiting. He could hear the muffled sounds of the radio. The only other thing he could hear was the sound of his own heart beating. He remained calm. He inched a bit closer to the window and was able to clearly see his radio sitting there on the edge of the sink next to the bathtub. He decided to wait another minute to make sure Betty was already in the tub. He hadn't seen her pass the frosted window but was sure she had to be in the tub by now. Another minute wouldn't kill him.
As Sterling laid there on top of the garage, twig in hand, preparing for the beginning of his new life, he felt something tickle the short hairs on the side of his neck, just behind his right ear. At first he thought perhaps it was just a bit of debris rustling against him as he lay there on top of the garage. He really could use a trim, he thought to himself.
He kept feeling something tickling those short hairs, and in a moment of reaction, reached up to brush whatever it was away. As his hand reached his neck, that was when the mouse that had been nuzzling his neck bit his hand. Startled, Sterling jerked and began to roll off of the garage. The mouse, with it's teeth still embedded in Sterling's hand, but harder. Theobold Sterling Mann started to flail as he rolled off of the garage, head first, and landed squarely on the concrete of the driveway, snapping his neck. He didn't die instantly. His body jerked and twitched as he realized he was paralyzed. The last thing he saw, before he blacked out for good, was the little mouse. It had a drop of his blood discoloring it's muzzle. It's nose twitched and Sterling Mann died.
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