A Husband's Rage

My eyes are completely glued to the tar road laid out before me. I quickly whip my hand to the radio, the bright green numbers say it is midnight. I turn it on not caring what station it is on as long as it is. I continue to increase the volume louder and louder desperate for noise. It is now so loud that I cannot hear myself think, which is, kind of, the point. I cannot think of what I've done. I cannot think of her screams. I cannot think about the noise. The shot. The blood. I cannot. I will not. I turn the radio up some more, but it is no longer working.

Red lights begin flashing around me. I turn the radio down. I know they are here for me. The siren's shriek slices through the silence of he night. I pull my beat up Chevy over to the side of the road. "It was only a matter of time," I thought.

"Javier Suarez! Come out with your hands up! I repeat, Javier Suarez! Come out with your hands up!" A police man forcefully yells into his megaphone.

I slowly open the large, rusty door. My feet hit the pavement with a heavy thud. I crawl out of car and stand up. My arms are raised above my head but I slowly drop them a few inches because they feel like lead. A big, burly cop with spiky blond hair, a square face and a "you-disgust-me" grin walks over. He forcefully grabs my arms and twists my body around slamming me against my car. The cold metal connect hard with my head but I do not make a sound. The cop slaps the metal cuffs on my. They hurt at first and I am sure that as he tightens them that my wrist is slightly lacerated.

"Javier Suarez, you are being charged with two counts of first degree murder. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up that right anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you." The big, burly cop says in an automatic tone.

I decide to remain silent, for me it is always the easiest thing to do. The cop, Rivers, walks me over to the squad car. I bend down a little to get inside. He places his clammy hand on the back of my neck to help me inside.

"You're going away for a long time, dirt bag," he whispers in my ear. His breath is extremely warm and I wish he had not done that.

The car is musty, it reeks of urine and sweat. There is not any noise throughout the car. Only the sirens outside, but it is not enough. My memory's going, it cannot be stopped. I cannot distract or cover it. Joan's horrified and painful screams echo throughout my head. "Stop it! Stop it!" I softly beg gasping for breath. "Stop it! Stop it!" I scream louder clenching my hands into fists. My mind continues to fun, full of energy although my body is exhausted. Blood splatters on the wall. I can see it. I cannot fight it any longer. I am helpless. I am being tortured by my own memory. I cannot make it stop.

I open my eyes as the horrible memory fades away. I see a young man hanging a poster of Cuba Gooding Jr. from the movie Men of Honor. Looking at it, it takes me back. Five years ago I remember seeing that exact same poster on the wall of Billings Theater. I had picked Joan up earlier and we were going to see it. It was our first date, and now, now she is gone. I should have listened to Cole when he told me that love only brings heartache and an empty wallet.

A single tear stings my eyes as we pull into the station. The car stops shaking. My mind goes blank. Rivers opens the door quickly and I frantically step out. I walk towards the glass doors. Each step feels like a thousand. the glass doors open and we walk, beginning a journey down the hall. I continue to move, fatigue starting to claim me. Another door is opened and inside a large mirror and a few chairs.

Rivers leaves the room and a new officer comes in. My handcuffs are switches from behind me to in front. I definitely prefer it this way. I sit down on the cold, metal chair as a shiver runs up my spine. The new cop sits across from me. His eyes staring into mine, burning what is left of my soul. I jerk my head, breaking eye contact.

"Mr. Suarez, where were you earlier tonight from 7:15 to 8:30 pm.?" The officer, whom I overheard was Nicholas Varlos, asks in a voice and stare that tells me that he already knows the answer.

I look down at my black and white sneakers weighing my options. I can lie and say I was at work or the store, or I could tell the truth and maybe get a more lenient punishment for confessing.

"Mr. Suarez, answer the question," Valos repeats his voice becoming harsh and sharp with each syllable and his glaring eyes lock onto mine, once again burning their way deep into my cold and vacant soul.

"I-I-I-I," I stutter trying to find the correct words. "I, um... I was leaving my house. After shooting my wife." I can feel my voice dropping; it is becoming weak and unfamiliar as the truth escapes from my lips. A tear emerges from my eyes, but I violently wipe it away before Varlos can detect it.

"Mr. Suarez, why did you murder you wife?" Varlos asks leaning in as if I am about to reveal to him the secret of life.

I turn my head and look at him. His eyes are no longer as fierce as they once were. I go back into my memory where it all began. I tell it to him. "I was early Friday morning," I paused reaching into the past and revealing the very thoughts that have caused me to be where I am. "I was trying to something romantic for Joan. I planned on putting a note in her vanity, telling her where to meet me for a date. Instead of placing my letter in, I pulled one out that she was obviously trying to hide. It read:

My dearest Joan,
I don't think that I can go on like this. Everyday I fall further and further in love with you. I want you to marry me. Leave Javier, he doesn't love you the way I do. He never can. Please, baby, marry me.
Your Love,
Gerard"

My voice begins to quiver as a tear of pain slowly rolls down my cheek. This time, however, I let it fall down and make a small puddle of the thigh of my jeans.

"I wasn't entirely sure if she was having an affair so... so I set her up. Earlier today, I told Joan that I was working tonight. I grabbed my hat and my blue prints and left the house. I drove around the block and then returned home and parked my car in the shadows. Fifteen minutes later a car pulled into my driveway. A tall guy with black hair and a leather jacket stepped out. I knew what he was there for. With every step of his arrogant strut my anger grew." I stop speaking for a moment. Feeling the rage again. My hands clench into fist as my fingernail slowly pry their way into my flesh. I loosen them as I continue to speak.

"Joan opened the for him as he knocked. She quickly grabbed the collar of his jacket and whipped him inside, closing the door as they moved. It was completely dark outside, the only light came from the windows. Two shadows appeared in our bedroom. They kissed as the one representing my wife removed her blouse." I break m eye contact from the table to Varlos. His eyes were studying me.

"I was so anger. My anger overcame my mind. I rapidly reached for the glove compartment. My eyes locked on my desire as my hand wrapped around it. I opened my car door and stepped out. With each step I became more disgusted, I quickly opened the door. I knew what was on the other side and I knew I didn't want to see it." I pause looking away from Varlos. "The doorknob was warm and sticky, it turned and the door opened.

"Joan was lying in bed, the red satin sheets under hers exposing her long neck, her beautiful face and her curly, brown hair. My gaze turned to Gerard, my enemy. He was reaching for his pants that were laying only a few inches away. I raised my arm and revealed the .45 I had retrieved from the glove compartment. I pointed it at Gerard. My finger overcame the pressure of the trigger. The bullet flew out and connected with Gerard's stomach. I continued to shoot as Joan's screams echoed throughout my head. She got out of bed and ran up to me reaching for the gun. With a powerful punch my fist collided with her jaw. She fell to the ground as blood spurted from her lips.

"Her trembling body made an attempt to run away but she couldn't make it. I walked over the broken glass, the still air born feathers and the puddles of blood. My hand concealed her neck. Her eyes were unlike I had ever seen them before, full of fear. I raised the gun to her head.

'No Javi, please don't!' She begged as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"My mind froze. How could she have done this to me? I jerked my hand and Joan flew to the wall before falling to the floor. I pulled the trigger again, this time it connected with Joan, entering her through the heart. She had punctured mine so I punctured hers back.

"I looked around the room. Blood was everywhere. I walked over to Joan's lifeless body. I bent over, looking at her still terror filled eyes. I slowly kissed her lips and asked 'Why did you do this to me?'" A tear falls down my face both then and now.

"I stood up and raised the .45 to my own head. My finger touched the trigger and pulled it. Click! Click! Click! It repeated over and over again. It was empty and my body wasn't. I fell to my knees and turned my gaze back to Joan. The engagement ring I had given her glistened with crimson. I removed it from her finger before walking out of our house.

"In the car I drove away knowing that one of my neighbors had undoubtedly heard what I had done. I drove to the spot by Walla Lake where I had purposed to Joan. I looked out at the water and wondered what went wrong. With the .45 and the two carat diamond engagement rind in my hand I began to fully realize exactly what I had just done. I then launched the ring and gun into the lake, hoping that I'd never have to see either one of them again."

I stop speaking. My story is over. I look at Varlos who seems somewhat surprised although I do not know why. Maybe because he does not believe me? Maybe because he does?

Varlos's hand rises from his notepad he's been scribbling profusely on. His fingers give a slight wave as two officers march in. Their hands grab my arms and lift me from my chair and out of the room. I am given an orange jumpsuit and a brown bag. I place my old clothes, sweaty and bloody, in the bag and put the jumpsuit on. We begin walking until we reach my cell. My new home. I step inside as the door closes and locks behind me.

The lights go off and the darkness comes consuming all in it's path. I sit down on my new bed. It is hard and lumpy. All noise slowly fades away. Nothing is left but the sound of the raindrops hitting the pavement outside my window. I lay my head down although I do not sleep. I have taken the lives of my wife, Joan Suarez, and her lover, Gerard Elliot. I, myself, could not manage to take away my own, but they have. I will now spend the rest of my life behind these rusty, old, metal bars in this prison that I will now and forever call 'home'. Forced to live with the thought and with the memory of the crime I have committed and the lives I have taken.