Lives Between Walls

It was a mellow evening. The restaurant was not too packed, a couple here and there on tables with warm light emanating from kaleidoscopic candles. It was a beautiful ambience. My wife and I had gone to this restaurant on our first date so many years ago. It had a sentimental value, nostalgia washed over me every time I entered this place. People were looking quite appealing in their elegant evening wear. The temperature was not too chilly either, so the women could get away with showing a bit of skin. But the only skin I was interested in tonight was her’s. I wanted to get inside it and wrap it around me snug like a warm wet blanket. I watched her as she sat there – her intense black eyes sweeping the room, as though she had been waiting for someone. She looked alluring in that short black dress that starkly contrasted her pale white skin, as it hung by a strap on her bare shoulder. A teasing breeze swept over her, coaxing her hair to sway across her face poetically. From where I was sitting, I could see where her dress went a few inches higher, daringly above what was acceptable as she sat with her legs crossed. I had a front row seat to the prize exhibit of the evening. She pursed her sultry lips into a pout, and ran the dangerously red lipstick back and forth along them. That had me fantasizing about that lipstick all over my face, as we hungrily devour each other, kissing each other as though the world was ending. I am helpless to the surge of arousal that washes over me like a wave. She glanced at her silver watch, and looked towards door. I knew she was waiting for me, I just needed the right time to make my move. I took a huge gulp of my courage juice; i.e. a pinacolada mixed with a shot of gin, if only to keep the nerves at bay. It was now or never. I took my ring off and then proceeded to snap my finger to summon a waiter.

“Yes sir, may I help you?” asked an Italian looking gentleman in white formal attire. “Err yes sir, may you kindly send a bottle of your finest wine to the lovely lady sitting on table six please. The young waiter smiled, “No problem sir, who should I say it’s from?” I thought for a moment, who did I want to be today? “Tell her it’s from Mr. Stud Bang Good,” I replied with a grin like a Cheshire cat. The waiter couldn’t help but let out an involuntary chuckle, “Hoping to strike it lucky my guy?” I brushed my dark brown hair back, “Life is any man’s game son, unless you take a chance, you will never know,” I replied feeling like such a wise crack. The waiter was feeling a bit more relaxed around me now, speaking to me as one would speak to a friend. I guess I can be intimidating before one hears me speaking. Maybe it was because I am a bit older, but I am very much a child at heart. I mean that is the very reason why I agreed with my wife to doing this. “Well, you are an inspiration to me bro, I hope you make it to third base tonight!”

The waiter returned with a bottle of Château Lafite-Rothschild, and gave it to the lady. She definitely seemed surprised and conversed with the waiter. I guess she was asking where it came from. My wife was really taking this role playing thing seriously, I thought to myself. The waiter pointed towards my direction, and she turned to look at me with a seamy smile, revealing her sexy buckteeth. Oh how I loved those! She waved at me, and then spoke a few words to the waiter. I watched the young man scurry back to me, with a smile beaming from ear to ear. “Hi sir, the lady says it’s too much wine to drink alone, and she wants you to come and help her drink it.” I smirked and gave the waiter a fist bump. “And that son, is how you play the game,” I replied smugly with a wink. “Sir you are my hero!” He laughed as he disappeared back behind the counter. Here we go Morgan, I said to myself as I took a final gulp from my glass but just as I was about to stand up, to my astonishment, I saw another man sitting there with her!

Oh shit. This was bad, and this was definitely not in the script. We had not planned on this happening, or planned what to do if something like this where to happen. I mean she is a woman sitting in a restaurant by herself, why wouldn’t any guy want to try their luck with her? I sank back into my seat as I watched this horror movie unfold – deflated. Okay calm down Morgan. She will just explain the whole situation to the guy and send him on his way. She will tell him that she is actually married, and this is just a game she is playing with her husband to try and rekindle the spark and chemistry in our relationship. Yeah that’s it. So I waited. However, seconds turned into minutes, as I watched them talk and laugh together. What the hell was going on? I could feel myself becoming more and more infuriated, watching my wife with this ogre of a man. What was Michelle doing? I mean this guy was not even her type. She had never dated across racial boundaries in the past. And I’m not racist or anything like that, I’m just saying. Suddenly I was jolted into back into cognition by a gentle tap on my shoulder. It was the waiter again, “Looks like someone already beat you to it mate,” he laughed as he walked off. I didn’t laugh. I was too angry and in disbelief at the same time. I glanced at my watch, and about 30 minutes had gone by and enough was enough. Not once did she look back at me, and the point that got to me the most was when that Neanderthal opened the bottle of wine I had bought for her and and poured the both of them a glass. That was the last straw. I was going to walk up to them, and tell them the whole truth and end this bloody game. Argh! I can’t believe I agreed to this stupid shit. I stood up in a rage and stormed towards their table and just stood there.

Their laughter came to a gradual halt as they slowly turned their attention to me. The man looked at me up and down, “Can we help you?” I turned to Michelle in anger. She widened her eyes as if to say, “Yes? Can we help you?” I opened my mouth but struggled to put together the words, “Err…my name is Morgan.” There was an awkward silence. The man looked at Michelle cocking his dark bushy eyebrow in confusion. Michelle shrugged her shoulders at him as if to say “I don’t know what’s going on either.” She smiled wryly and turned to me saying, “Nice to meet you Morgan. I take it you’re the ‘Mr. Stud Bang Good’ who sent me the bottle of wine?” The black man seated beside her threw his head back and let out a booming laugh, “Oh my God! Oh, I didn’t know that I interrupted something that was unfolding here.” By this time I was fuming and I don’t think my face was doing a good job of hiding it. I gave a nervous chuckle and glared at Michelle as if to say, “This is not cool anymore!” I just glared at her for a few seconds. The man looked at the both of us, feeling awkward, “Hey I think maybe it’s better if I just leave and let yall continue with yall’s story.” He began to stand up, but Michelle grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back down, “No please you don’t have to do that.” I was besides myself in rage, “Really Michelle?!” She smiled deviously, “Honestly, I have no idea who this man is or this Michelle he is talking about. Sir, thank you for the wine, but as you can see, I have company now.” What?! How dare she deny me in front of another man like this! I don’t recall being that angry in all my relationship with her. Right now I really felt like slapping her and she knew it. I had never felt so disrespected but it just seemed to be turning her on. The man sitting at the table scratched his black hair for a moment, and then smiled at me condescendingly, “Listen here, ‘Mr. umm…Bang Good,’ clearly the lady does not know you, so let’s just assume you are confusing her with someone else and it’s all good.” I really did not know how to react at that point. Michelle was clearly playing along and enjoying this. I just felt like walking out of that restaurant. But if I did walk out, who’s to say what will happen between the both of them. I never thought Michelle would ever cheat on me, but now I was not so sure anymore. No, I needed to put my foot down right that instant! I will demand that she walk out of this place with me. I am going to leave this restaurant with my wife tonight come hell or high waters! “Look sir! This woman is my wife. We are just playing a game,” I said as I scrambled to take the ring out of my pocket. “Look,” I put the ring to his face and then put it on my finger, “Married, get it?!” The man looked surprised. I took the opportunity in the moment of his confusion, and grabbed Michelle’s hand, “I’m done with this fuckin’ game. We are leaving immediately!” By now I had created no small ruckus in that restaurant and drawn the attention of the patrons. I looked around the room, and saw that Italian waiter that had served me standing with the tray to his chest, watching on in disapproval.

Suddenly, the man stood up and faced me. He was a giant a 2 metre mountain of black muscle, against slender old me. If we were to fight, I would definitely have gotten a serious ‘ass whooping.’ He was trying to intimidate me with his size, and it was working to some extent. “Look,” he bellowed, “the lady says that she doesn’t know you. Now I suggest that you let go of her before I give you the pounding that your parents never gave you!” I stared at Michelle one more time, she was still enjoying this! At that moment I hated her with everything within me. Honestly, under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t mind fighting for my wife. I don’t care even if this guy had been Mike Tyson, I would still have beat him up if he had tried to hurt her. I would honestly die for this girl. However, this was a different case, because she was here blatantly denying me. And obviously everyone would think that I am in the wrong if I had tried to drag her out. Wow, checkmate – well done you little bitch. I let her go, and I watched her tending to her wrist with her other hand – playing victim – all the while, that sickening faint smile plastered on her face. I turned to leave the restaurant as the patrons clapped their hands and cheered for the man who had defended a woman from an abuser. I felt my ears and face heat up with shame. I wanted to leave that restaurant immediately and go somewhere to dig and hole and die to escape my humiliation. To add insult to injury, just as I was at the door, the security stopped me because I hadn’t paid for the wine. So I had to walk back to the tills, past Michelle and that baboon’s table to go and pay. Surely hell can’t be worse than this.

I hurried out that restaurant and threw myself into the evening breeze. I ran towards my car, carrying such a heaviness in my heart. My woman had just left me. Was this really the end of our marriage of 3 years? All we wanted to do was spice up our sex life, and she was the one who suggested this dumb game. Wait! Or did she suggest this as a way to leave me for good? Did she plan all of this to happen? Fuck! I kicked a empty can onto the street which went clanking into the darkness, causing a stray cat to leap out of the way. I got into my car and slammed the door, slumping into the driver’s seat. I sat there, just contemplating my life and my next move. After about a good hour, I saw Michelle and this man walk out of the restaurant hand in hand. My blood was boiling. I watched them get into the guy’s pick up truck. I wondered where they were going. I should follow them – yeah that’s what I’ll do. So I pressed the button on my car and the engine roared to life. I drove behind them, maintaining a safe distance as the pick up began to move.

I trailed them for about half an hour to an abandoned parking area. The car stood still. I parked a long way off, just so I didn’t arouse suspicion, turning my headlights off. Are you kidding me Michelle? If you are going to cheat on me, you’re seriously gonna do it in a parking lot? Not even a motel? I was furious to think of what might be happening in that car. I imagined the two of them kissing, her lips parting for him and that filthy slobbering wet tongue all over her face, his dirty grubby hands around her delicate hips. Argh! This man was going to die today! I got out my car and went over to the trunk of my car, and pulled out a crowbar – stained with blood from repeated use. I slammed my trunk shut as I proceeded to shuffle toward the pick up. I walked towards Michelle’s side, hoping that she would have left the door open for me, and sure enough, I easily pulled open the door. When I opened the door, I was glad that she was still fully clothed, even though they had clearly been trying to gobble each other up. “Mr Bang Good is here!” I shouted as I dove over Michelle and with all my might swung the crowbar into the man’s face as hard as I could before he even knew what was going on. He was still lulled from the smooching, I knew that was every man’s Achillies tendon. I also knew that a hit at the temple would knock one’s opponent out immediately, like how David did with Goliath. I smacked and smacked with that crowbar, exhausting all my anger on this giant, till his skull was cracked in. Till all I heard were soft moans that escaped his throat every few seconds. His head was just a bloody mass, couldn’t really distinguish a face there anymore.

There I was I laying on Michelle’s thighs in the aftermath, the gear leaver against my back, gasping for air. Blood was splattered all over the interior of the car. I could hear Michelle’s faint whimpers for mercy, “Please, please don’t kill me.” I was puzzled, and so I straightened myself up and stood next to her. I didn’t understand, why was she still roleplaying. After all, she was the one who took this game too far, she made me kill this man because she didn’t quit. “Michelle! You made me do this again! This is why I don’t like playing your games!” I shouted at her. I looked into her teary eyes, she was genuinely terrified and shaking, “I told you sir, I don’t know this Michelle you keep talking about.” I laughed nervously, “Just quit the act now babe, we have to hurry up and dispose of this body asap.” I reached for her shoulder and she pulled away suddenly. Wait a minute, what was going on? Why was she acting like she didn’t know me? Then my memories all came flooding back to me.

My name was Morgan de Jager. My wife Michelle had passed away three years ago. And I was diagnosed with something called bereavement hallucination, however I see my wife in strangers. There also just so happens to have been a serial killer on the loose in Orchidville – for the past three years.