The Wicked Woman

"You are so worthless and lazy," she could hear him grumbling about her as he stomped through the living room.

The limited-edition hand-blown glass vase that Ese bought off her favorite home shopping channel was sitting on the table in the hall, every time Marcus passed the vase it would rock a bit then stop. Molly, their jet-black Labrador with the white right ear was cowering at the entrance of the front door. Molly had to go potty, but no-one noticed.

Ese sat quietly in her dimly lit room; vibrant colors danced in the lens of her glasses as she played candy crush on her phone. She could tell that Marcus was building steam like a pressure cooker getting ready to blow. Earlier she overheard him on the phone with his insurance company, quarreling with the representative for raising his premium again. Ese pressed the mute on her game because Marcus's voice trailed off as he opened the front door.

She peered out the window to see where he went, unfortunately, he had only gone to check the mail. Their mailbox was lazily propped up with a broken stick, it was a symbol of the life they had built. He flicked the box closed and marched halfway up the driveway to greet the neighbor who was riding shirtless on his lawnmower.

By the time he got inside he seemed even more upset than before. Marcus slammed the front door shut and threw a fist full of letters on the dining table. Ese watched discreetly from the crack in her door. He sighed heavily as tore open a yellow envelope marked final notice. For as long as they have been together Marcus made a big stink about paying bills. She sat still waiting for a sign of what would come next, she found relief in hearing him kiss his teeth and walk away.

She got up quickly and pushed closed her room door to avoid his anticipated return. Ese learned over the years to stay out of Marcus's path of destruction, but her silence infuriated him and before long she could hear his dress shoes making click-clack sounds across the wood floor.

The door burst open, he stood at the entrance glaring menacingly at her.

"Ese," he growled.

Marcus never did respect boundaries she thought as she sat trying to ignore his presence. Marcus had the bill in his left hand, the sight of Ese sitting there made him angrier. He balled the bill up and pointed at her with two fingers.

"Ese, don't you see me standing here," he hissed.

Having overheard him earlier on the phone with the insurance people she knew he wanted to start complaining about not having money. Marcus didn't like to spend his money on essentials he deemed unnecessary like soap, food, taxes and the thirty-dollar water bill he now had crumpled up in his hand.

She raised her head and looked him squarely in his eyes, "I am not paying it."

Her words hit against the pressure valve of his anger and in a fit rage he launched the balled-up bill at Ese's head.

"I gave you everything, I paid for the house you are living in!"

"You can't pay a simple bill," Marcus hollered.

That was his go-to point for any argument, the fact that twelve years ago he took all the money he saved from not paying bills to pay off the mortgage or what he called the "death note. "

"You are a wicked woman, and I can't stand you!" Hatred dripped from his lips, slowly choking the life from the cold remains of their relationship.

Marcus had perfected the way he pronounced wicked woman, usually, Ese would retort by declaring a wicked woman is a portion for a wicked man but today she simply shrugged her shoulders and resumed her game. He clenched his teeth and narrowed his eyes because he knew if he put his hands on her again it would be trouble. He marched out of her room and slammed the front with such force that it shook the walls, a few seconds later her limited-edition vase crashed to the groundbreaking into a million pieces.

Molly scampered off to hide under Ese's bed, she left a puddle at the front door. Marcus cursed Ese all the way to his mother's house. He was hungry and resented that she didn't pamper him like his mother did his father.

~

Marcus nursed ill will for his mother Bell, he would never admit it out loud, but he did. Two occasions gave him a reason to visit her: hunger and Ese. Today it was both. The forty-five-minute drive to the country gave him enough time to rehearse his lines. He cursed Ese, his life, his childhood, his children, the people talking politics on the radio he even cursed the rain that had started falling. It seemed Marcus hated damn near everyone except for Ese's dog, Molly.

Marcus's mother lived alone. She had once shared her home with her sister Tellie, but she passed away many years ago. Tellie was one of the many reasons Marcus didn't like his mother, his father Charlie hated his sister-in-law like a dose of poising, he convinced Marcus to hate her too. Charlie blamed Bell's family for his financial ruin and misery. Even though he could never prove it he swore they were guilty of working obeah or as he put it "putting roots," on him. " Be careful son, you have to watch out for your mother Bell and her wicked family," he often warned.

Marcus hurriedly sped down the dirt road. The driveway that led to his mother's house was long and narrow. He didn't even try avoiding the potholes because he didn't care. The tires splashed through dirty puddles the entire way. By the time he pulled up the car was a muddy mess. He wasn't surprised to see his mother Bell knitting on the front porch rocking in her favorite chair, she was always making something. Her hands steadily moved in and out spinning a single vibrantly colored yarn.

Bell heard the breaks screech. The thud of the car door slamming cause her to flinch in her seat. Even with all the commotion she did not look up from her project. Few people visited her these days and even fewer brought good news. She knew by the way the person was huffing that it was Marcus.

"Hey Mama," he grunted walking towards her.

"Marcus, how are you doing son?" she muttered still concentrating on her knitting.

"You cook?" he asked not even answering her question.

"Look in the kitchen," she replied pulling a long string from her ball of yarn.

The moment he arrived she started knitting faster. Marcus went into the kitchen without another word. He fished around the cabinets for a plate and fork. He couldn't resist the smell, it was his favorite, stew peas with spinners and rice. Everything in the kitchen was silent except for the clanking of his fork against the plate. Five minutes passed and then it happened, "ahhh," he was full and let out a satiated moan.

Marcus pushed backed from the kitchen table, his chair scraped the hardwood floor. Bell could hear his every move, he gathered his dirty dishes, the fork fell on the floor, he murmured and fussed at it just like his father use to. He made his way to the sink and turned it on.

"Aww man," he lamented. Marcus forgot the kitchen pipe gushed too much water. The water sprayed all over his shirt and made puddle on the counter.

He kissed his teeth and continued to wash, dry and put his plate away. He made his way to the fridge door and too out the pitcher. He poured himself a glass of fresh lemongrass tea. Bell could hear him gulp then click his tongue from the sweetness. The kitchen symphony sounds soon faded into an uncomfortable silence. He stood behind his mother like a predator stalking his prey. Bell could feel him standing behind her, his energy set like a storm. She figured that now that his belly was full, he would be ready to talk.

"What did she do now son?" his mother asked knowing that it was time for Marcus to throw his one-man pity party.

"I can't stand her, Mama!" He stood in the doorway clenching his fist and gritting his teeth.

"Ese?" she asked as if he could be talking about someone else.

"Yes, that wicked woman Ese!" he minced no words when it came to her.

"What did she do this time?" his mother let out a laborious sigh.

"She is cheap, she wants to use all of my money and not spend hers," he blurted out in a childish tone.

"Is that so," Bell shook her head.

"Yes, what do you mean is that so?" he asked walking towards her.

"It sounds like you're taking up for her Mama, I am your son," he protested.

This was nothing new Marcus hated when anyone, "took Ese's side."

"I hear you, son, so what are you going to do?" she asked tugging at a string that had gotten entangled.

Marcus walked off the veranda making a scene, curiously Bell never took her eyes off the string. The louder he yelled the harder it was for Bell to hear him. Things became blurry. The ball of yarn that once sat on her lap had haphazardly rolled to the ground. Bell's aged fingers wrapped around the chair handle and her weary eye lids slowly began to close. He didn't bother to check her pulse or stay around any longer. The sun was setting, Marcus was full, and Bell was silent, he figured she was taking a nap, so he decided to leave.

"Bye Mama." he said lowly making his way to the car.