Blackburn

As he walked, Blackburn experienced a rush of exhilaration that started in his belly and swelled into his chest and head. The air became crisp, and the outlines of cars and lampposts sharpened. Colors brightened. The sensation was so strong that it made him dizzy. When he reached the Rambler, he set his things on the hood and leaned against the fender. He hadn't felt anything like this since he was ten years old and almost fell from the Wantoda water tower. He had tried to recapture the feeling then, and had failed.

In the years since, he had learned that joy never came when he looked for it. When it came at all, in whatever strength, it took him by surprise. While he was falling, or listening to his boots. Or looking for a copy of The Kids Are Alright. Or eating fried shrimp. It would never be in the same place twice.

After a few minutes, the sensation ebbed enough for him to feel safe driving. But some of the joy remained, and he would take it home to Dolores. That would be the best present of all.

He drove back across the Bay Bridge, to ruin.

In some ways, it was a classic scenario: Husband comes home unexpectedly. He brings a gift. He finds wife in bed with another man.

In other ways, it wasn't. Blackburn was unfamiliar with classic scenarios.

He entered the apartment with the package and flowers hugged to his chest, taking care that the front door didn't squeak. It was only ten-thirty, and Dolores might still be asleep. He didn't want to wake her with noise, but with kisses. Once inside, he heard Led Zeppelin playing on the clock radio back in the bedroom. 'Gotta wholotta love.' Bwaaaah. 'Gotta wholotta love.' Bwaaaah. 'Ah-a-aaah, Ah!'

Blackburn closed the front door and walked through the living room and kitchen to the bedroom door. It was closed. He had left it open, so Dolores must be up. Led Zeppelin was getting louder. Blackburn hesitated, wondering if Dolores might be dancing to the music. He could picture her spinning naked atop the bed. He was afraid that he might embarrass her if he just walked in.

Led Zeppelin faded into Bachman-Turner Overdrive's 'You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet,' and Blackburn heard a final 'Ah-a-aaah, Ah!' It was louder than the radio. It was the voice of a man.

Blackburn's heart twisted. The only word in his head was rape.

Then he was in the bedroom. The glass vase lay in shards on the hardwood floor at the foot of the bed. The roses and water were spread out in the shape of a fan. The J.C. Penney package was crushed in the crook of his left arm. Its blue wrapping paper was ripped. The white bow dangled.

On the bed, a naked man with a hairy back was on top of Dolores. His face was in her crotch. Hers was in his.

Dolores looked up from between the man's buttocks. 'Uh-oh,' she said.

The word rape left Blackburn's head. Then he wanted it back. Then he felt evil for wanting it back. Then that went away too. Everything that he had become in the past four months went away with it. He heard the hiss.

He dropped the package and went to the clock radio to turn it off. Bachman- Turner Overdrive stopped in midstutter. Blackburn was standing at the head of the bed now, looking down at Dolores. Her hair was tangled and damp. Her lips were puffy. The naked man had rolled away and was crouching on the floor on the other side of the bed. Blackburn gave him a glance, then looked back at Dolores.

'Hello,' he said. He blinked. His eyes were stinging. That wouldn't do. He made them stop. 'I brought flowers.'

'Thank you,' Dolores whispered.

He looked at the rest of her body. The bikini patches glared. She looked ridiculous in her naked non-nudity.

Blackburn returned to the foot of the bed and squatted to pick up the roses. The naked man's feet appeared among them, and then Blackburn saw that the naked man's clothes were there too. The naked man stooped to collect them, his body bending so that his cock vanished under his belly. Blackburn looked up at the naked man's eyes and tried to see into his brain.

'Look,' the naked man said. He was wringing out his briefs. 'I never took nothing I never paid for.'

Blackburn finished gathering the flowers and stood up. Dolores was sitting against the headboard now. She had pulled the sheet up to her throat.

'Money's so tight, Ed,' she said. 'It doesn't mean anything. I was just trying to make things easier.'

'So tight,' Blackburn said. He turned back to the naked man. 'See my boots, naked man?'

The naked man had dropped his wet briefs and was starting to pull on his pants. 'What about them?' he asked.

'I think you bought them for me,' Blackburn said.

The naked man had one hand on the waistband of his pants. He straightened a little, and the pants came up partway. He smiled.

'Hope you like them,' he said.

Blackburn nodded. Then he took a step and kicked. The pointed toe of his right cowboy boot caught the naked man under the balls and drove upward. The naked man's back arched, and his mouth opened. Blackburn stepped away. The naked man crumpled. He hit the floor and lay curled in the water and broken glass. He made a gurgling noise.

Blackburn returned to the head of the bed. He held the roses in a clump in his left hand. 'I brought you some flowers,' he said again.

Dolores said nothing. Part of the sheet was crammed into her mouth.

'They're sweetheart roses,' Blackburn said. 'There aren't many thorns. Here.' He selected a rose and held it out to her. The tight petals brushed her cheek.

Dolores's right hand came up from the sheet. She took the stem between her thumb and fingers.

'Would you like to smell it?' Blackburn asked.

Dolores nodded.

'Put it up your nose,' Blackburn said.

By the time he gave Dolores the last rose, the bedroom smelled like the flower shop. The naked man was throwing up. Dolores was convulsed in a fit of sneezing.

Blackburn went to the closet and took down all of Dolores's clothes. He threw them on top of the naked man, who was trying to crawl out of the room. The clothes slowed him down. Blackburn shut the door to stop him. Then he turned toward Dolores again.

Dolores was on her knees on the bed. Her eyes were wet. 'Eddie, I love you,' she said. 'I really-' A sneeze cut off her last word.

Blackburn wanted to kill her. The Python would be the best way. It was in the Rambler, wrapped in rags under the back seat. It would be an effort to go out and remove the seat, retrieve the pistol, and bring it back. But he could be fast. His life before Dolores had taught him to be fast. He wouldn't even have to tie her up first. He could put one behind her ear before she could get away.

Her sweet, perfect-for-tonguing ear.

He wanted to kill her.

He wanted to make love to her.

He wanted to kill her.

Dolores had betrayed him. She had treated him as one human being should never treat another. She had violated his rules in the most severe way possible. It was as simple as simple could be.

One behind her ear.

Blackburn started for the door. The pile of clothes with the naked man under it was in his way. He stopped. Then he turned back and crawled onto the bed. He crawled up until his nose was a millimeter from Dolores's nose. Her eyes converged. She turned away. He gave her one kiss behind her ear.