Mudcat Café message #2427867 The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #113933   Message #2427867
Posted By: Lonesome EJ
01-Sep-08 - 02:43 PM
Thread Name: Fiction : The Dead Man's Guitar
Subject: RE: Fiction : The Dead Man's Guitar
She was hysterical. Michael couldn't blame her for that. He had been in shock himself when he first learned of the guitar's unique attributes. He tried to comfort her, but she struck at him with her fists, standing in the corner farthest from the door, repeating "get rid of it, Michael! Burn it! Get it out of my house!"
"Honey, it's worth a fortune..."
"Then sell it on E Bay! But take it out of here Michael! My God!" and she broke into spasmodic weeping. He stood in front of her and was torn by two emotions. He wanted to hold her and help her. And then the darker emotion that said she was a slut and a cheat, that what she needed was a strong slap in the face. "Look Michael! Go downstairs and get rid of it now! I mean it! I won't stay here with that thing down there in the dark! Either it goes or I go!"
   Of course she wouldn't understand. She hadn't felt the real power of it, the power to reveal truth. He gripped her by the wrists and said "open your eyes, Sheila." This she did, and abject fear was in them. "I know," he said. "I know you are cheating on me." She responded too quickly "I'm not! What are you talking about!" She was a liar, and not a good one.
"No, Sheila," he said quietly. "You stay here. I'll take the guitar and leave." She stood sobbing, felt something warm in the center of her fist. When he switched the light on she saw the blood from her finger dripping down her arm, making a brown stain in the carpet. He stuffed an overnight bag with some clothes and his shaving kit. He walked to the bedroom door and said " I'll be downtown at the Peery Hotel." He went downstairs and she heard the guitar case snap shut, the door open and close, Michael's Volvo moving off.
   It was 4:15 in the morning, but she called David's cell phone, getting his voice mail. She said "call me as soon as you can." Then she lay down on the bed, the cell on Michael's pillow. In five minutes it rang with David's first words "are you alright?" She told him the story, and he said "Christ, Sheel. Could it have been a recording?"
"No, " she said. "In the middle of everything he accused me of cheating."
"Isn't he traveling out of town today?"
"I don't know, Dave, I think so."
"Look Sheel, try and get some sleep."
"Right. Good luck."
"I'll call Mike tomorrow, and let you know what's going on with him."
She put the cell phone on the nightstand, locked the bedroom door, and lay down. After an hour or so, she crept down the stairs with a nail file in her hand, went to the kitchen and filled a bucket with a sponge, hot water, and 409 Cleanser and went back to the bedroom, where she worked at the stain until the sky grew light.