My son Chris is a freshman at UNLV majoring in "Film". He plans on becoming a screen writer and director after he graduates. Chris has been writing screen plays since he was thirteen. He has a dark visual and literary flare to some of his work. He likes to express the darker side of human nature and focus at times on the inner workings of the psyche. Chris is multi-faceted as you will see by the wide array of styles and topics covered in his writings. From tortured souls to the discovery of first love, he explores every facet of human emotions and inner conflict. Although some of his work is raw at times, I have a deep feeling that he is going to be quite successful in his trade.
Enjoy,
Ordinary Wmn
For your pondering;
"Mister Smith's Wife"
The sunbeams shining through the cracks of the shutters woke me as they hit my face. I could already hear the children boarding the school bus at the corner of the street.
I got up and went to the bathroom, turned the faucets on so the water wasn't too hot or too cold, just right. As the sink filled up, I stared into the mirror in front of me wondering, who I was staring at? This wasn't the same man that I remember. The man I remembered had joy in his life, he could also feel. Feel inside, whether they be good or bad feelings. When the sink was full, I dipped my hands in and splashed my face. Oh, how refreshing it was! I went back into my bedroom and began to get dressed. I put on my faded jeans, an old band shirt, and of course my favorite pair of Adidas. I lit up a cigarette as I tied my sneakers, took a long drag and blew the smoke out. I watched as the smoke twirled upward towards my ceiling, slowly disappearing into the air.
I get up and go into my kitchen rummaging through the fridge to see if anything would catch my interests, but nothing. I walked from my kitchen to my office and sat down. I took the final drag of my cigarette and put it in the ashtray. When did the ashtray get so full? I turned on my computer and as it finishes loading I go straight to my iTunes. I hit play. "You don't know what love is", by the White Stripes immediately started coming out of the speakers.
I laughed at the irony, and got up and made my way to the small window. I slowly pulled back the dingy white curtain. Were they white? I look as the people below go about their day. The old women going for their walks, as the workout junkies ran by. Of course the new mothers walking off those few extra pounds, while their new bundles of joy were in the carriages in front of them. My mind began to wander; I could have stood there for hours, if the ringing of my cell phone didn't break my concentration.
I answered it, was my new client, Mr. Smith. Not too many things scare me in this life but Mr. Smith has this aura about him that would make a Marine Corps drill sergeant shiver. He gave me my instructions, they were very specific, I was to find out whether or not his wife was cheating on him, and if so who was the man. I've done many cases like this but this one somehow didn't seem right. Mr. Smith was a wealthy man and he offered double the usual rate so how could I turn him down? I did the usual, "yes; I'll do my best" and hung up.
After I got off the phone with Mr. Smith I went to my closet and started to gather my gear. I got my camera, with an extended lens, so I can zoom in on the action from a safe distance. My laptop so I can upload right on the spot, and lastly my colt .45 hand gun. I've never needed the gun but as I said, something didn't feel right. I checked it, cleaned it, and loaded it. I then put all my supplies in my gear bag and headed towards the door. I grabbed my hoody off the hook and went out to start my day.
I entered my car, another prized possession of mine. Dodge Charger, vintage of course, I started the engine and the nice rumble lifted my spirits a bit. I looked into the rear view mirror to stare at the man that I no longer knew. I sighed at this feeling, the reason being a mystery to you and me. I went on with my task at hand.
When I arrived at the house of Mr. Smith I parked across the street, so not to be seen by him or his wife. I saw him leave and get into his very nice BMW and drive off. I waited for the Missus; she did not take too long. She came out shortly afterwards; dressed very nicely I might add. I took this moment to snap some pictures. As she got into her vehicle, a Lexus, I couldn't help but notice she had a bag with her. She started off and I set after her, keeping my distance, so not to raise suspicion.
She stopped at a Starbucks and picked up a latte, a daily ritual from what I conceived of the matter. She then went to a motel, and parked in the rear. This was the jackpot! It usually took days before I saw action. She walked up to room 242, and I took pictures of her entering. I also got a shot of the man who greeted her with a very, none friendly, curt, kiss on the lips. He had sunglasses on and a hat. Weird, did he suspect he was being watched? I waited for the door to close and got out of my car and headed up to the room. As I walked by, I could hear the moans of Mrs. Smith, so objective one was set. Now, to figure out whom the man was. I walked back down to my car and waited.
After what seem like an eternity, but actually was a little over 2 hours, Mrs. Smith emerged from the room. I took photos again, she walked down to her car and left. The man however just went back into the room after she kissed him farewell. I waited some more, after another hour of sitting around, he came out the room. He went to the front office, and returned the key. He went to his car, a Mercedes Benz, he started off and I set chase.
I tailed him all the way across town where he pulled into an upscale house, 242 Victor Lane. Objective two complete. I got out of the car, after I parked out of sight again, and walked up to an elderly lady watering her garden. I asked her if 242 was the home of John Mayer, she replied with exactly what I wanted.
"Why no, dear, this is the home of James Lewis".
Bingo, I had my man and, I was now four digits richer. I proceeded home.
When I walked into my house the song "Lonely, Lonely", was playing by Fiest, another ironic moment I believe. I called Mr. Smith and gave him the information I had just gathered. He told me he was thrilled. That seemed odd and I didn't know why at first. It all became very clear as he went on to say that he finally had a reason to kill that two timing bitch. This sent a shiver down my spine. What he said next is what snapped me back into reality. He asked me to kill her and her lover. He would pay me, a lot more, of course. He also went on to say that since he was very politically connected, if anything went wrong, he could help me. I laughed at him.
That was right before I accepted his offer. I don't know why, the words, "yes I'll do it" just flowed out, very naturally. He said thank you, and that I should do it tomorrow. He would be away on business. The timing would be perfect.
I hung up the phone and went to my bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror, and then it all made sense to me. I knew why I was feeling so awkward, disconnected. It was the lack of excitement in my life! The main reason I had entered this line of work was for the rush, the adrenaline high during a high-octane job. A smile slowly crept across my face and in an instant the old me came screaming back. "Hello stranger, haven't seen you in a while! Man I've missed you!" I thought to myself.
I started the shower, and climbed in, visualizing how I was going to make this all go down?
I awoke the next day to the sun greeting me, and the usual sounds of the children. I knew this was my day. The day I became the man I always wanted to be. I grabbed my clothes and got dressed. I lit up my morning cigarette and went to my closet. I grabbed my colt .45 and a pair of gloves. I grabbed a ski mask from my winter clothing box.
I brought out my "just in case" box. Hello old friend, haven't seen you in a while! This box had many illegal weapons, collected over the years from various sources. The one prized goodie I had always wanted to use was the silencer. I bought it off the Internet for a measly 5 dollars. The E-bay nerd thought it was a toy. Who was I to tell him otherwise?
I got into my car and went to the home of Mr. Smith. He was just leaving as I arrived. Yes my timing was right on! Mrs. Smith gave him a kiss goodbye, and she turned and went back inside. As Mr. Smith pulled down the street, I saw a very familiar car. It was the Mercedes-Benz of one, James Lewis. He parked right in the driveway and entered the unlocked front door.
It was time for me to make my move. I gathered my supplies and made my way to the backyard. I went to the back door and it was unlocked. Yeah, I am on a roll now!
I put on my mask and gloves. As I crept through the house, I screwed the silencer to the handgun. I made my way up the stairs, my heart was racing! I could feel the sweat collecting on the mask.
The sounds of Mrs. Smith were echoing through the hallway, they were coming from the master bedroom. As I approached, her moans became unbearable! I felt like Mr. Smith. They hurt me just as much as if I were him. More I think, because I was consumed by a feeling of betrayal. I used this to fuel me. I kicked the door open and the scream she let out filled the air. I pulled the trigger twice.
As I watched the life leave their eyes, I felt it! The feeling only murderers feel. It was a rush of overwhelming, kinetic-like energy! I felt a feeling of God-like power, the power to end the very essence of existence, of life.
I slowly walked over to the pants of Mr. Lewis and took the keys; I also helped myself to the money in his wallet, he wasn't going to need it where he was going. I proceeded down the hallway knocking down pictures and taking what little things I felt were of enough value to justify the gory scene in the bedroom.
I walked out the front door, after I removed the mask and placed it with the gun back into my bag. I walked to James' vehicle, got inside. I backed out and drove away. I would wait until dark to double back and pick up my old car. I was feeling generous maybe I would donate it to charity. I looked in the rearview mirror and for the first time in years I actually saw a familiar face. Welcome back, I smiled.
When I got home that night I felt amazing! I now had a small fortune and was ready to move. I grabbed my laptop and all the things I needed for my new business venture. I set back out and loaded everything into my car. I went back into the apartment and gave it one last look around. I smiled at the fact that this would be the last time I would see it. No more old ladies, no more runners, no more baby pushers. Somehow I wasn't too broken up over it. I locked the door behind me as I left. I went into my car, sat down and looked into the mirror again.
So, this is where I am right now. What to do? Travel, Paris, Rome, maybe invest or jet set? I don't know. So what do you say, stranger, as I looked in the mirror once more. I'll let you decide. What happens next, where do I go from here? The possibilities are endless. I'm not afraid anymore. Bring it on! I am back and I'm ready.
THE END?
