Wðrร†. Ðå†ê. Èvêr! (Çhåþ†êr 2)

Chapter 2: A case of charity gone awry

Frank had practically begged me to go out with him. He’s not a bad-looking guy, but Frank is obnoxious as hell. The man is dreadfully in love with himself: a true narcissist. Teresa warned me against going out with him. Frank had a reputation around the office as a womanizer, and he fit the profile to a T. Self-absorbed, immature, flirtatious, garrulous, and annoying. I was fresh meat for him: “the new girl”.

Perhaps it was a moment of weakness. More likely, it was a fit of charity. Nonetheless, I had no dinner plans for Friday night, so I finally relented and agreed to let Frank treat me to some pizza. And, for the record, that scarcely qualifies as a date. Besides, I had heard that Tony’s had the best pizza in town. I’d let that sorry bastard buy me dinner and a few drinks, tease his little prick a bit, then leave his blue balls to his own devices. He deserved this! This one’s for you, Teresa! I’ve got your back, girl!

When Frank pulled up in front of my apartment building, I was a little surprised. “A Camry?” This wasn’t the car I expected a player like Frank to drive. “Probably a momma’s boy,” I giggled to myself. He picked me up promptly at 7:30, just as we had planned. Score one for Frank. At least he wasn’t late. I’d honestly expected that he would be.

Okay, so the dinner “date” wasn’t entirely terrible.

The good: The pizza was as advertised. They serve a New York-style pizza, with a lightly-charred crust, a piquant tomato sauce, and a flavorful blend of mozzarella and ricotta cheeses. Pretty darn good. Add Tony’s to my “visit-again list”. The autumn evening was a little cool and the night breeze a bit crisp for outdoor dining, but the kerosene heaters made it at least tolerable. Frank was sweating like a greasy pig, so, of course, I urged the waiter to turn the heat up! “Don’t you dare try to snuggle up close to me!” I thought.

The bad: Predictably, Frank managed to circle every conversation back to himself. The man’s a real friggin’ bore. His stories rambled on aimlessly, and at each pause, he leaned back in his chair stretching his arms above his head, flashed his cheesy grin, cleared his throat, and let out a deep sigh, as if he was waiting for some sign of my approval. He did at least laugh at some of my cynical observations. (My sister likes to call them Linda-isms.) At some point, however, I started texting my sister just to escape Frank’s diatribe about my fellow co-workers. Frank honestly believes the women in the office are all in love with him. I’ve got news for you Frank, they all think you’re a dimwit, and that’s putting it mildly!

The Ugly: Frank tried to pour on his charm. Pathetic! It ain’t happenin’ Frank! My sister suggested excusing myself to the ladies’ room and catching an Uber home! Not an entirely bad idea, but I’ve gotta work with this prick, so I played along like I actually enjoyed his boring-ass stories. Besides, I wanted to see this through and watch him squirm when I rejected him. He ain’t never met one like me before, guaranteed!

As we polished off the final gulps of our beers, Frank asked if I would like to see some of the “finer sights of town”.

I tried to muster some enthusiasm. “Sure, why not.” Clearly, Frank had an ulterior motive, but, after all, he was born and raised here, so I figured I’d let him show me a few of the local hangouts, then get him to drop me back home.

Frank drove me to the outer fringes of town to a wooded camp area he referred to as “The Timbers.” It was pretty damn cold to wander around the woods, I reminded him. Frank got out and walked toward an old cement picnic table and motioned for me to follow him. I defiantly remained in the car, and he gestured toward me several more times. I finally got out of the car to go see this view he was raving about, hoping to just get this over with and get home.

A golden crescent moon played peek-a-boo through the autumn foliage. The stars lit the fulgent night sky in a dazzling display, like brilliant threads of light dancing through tiny pinholes in the celestial heavenly canvas. Admittedly, it was a sight to behold. I leaned back to absorb the wondrous beauty. Breathtaking! The cold air set heavy in my lungs with a burning sensation, but there was a salubrious quality to the clean country air.

I was taking in the stunning panoramic view when I felt Frank’s hand creep across my back. Startled, I pulled away suddenly with a jerk, and Frank grasped me around the waist. As I instinctively shoved Frank in the chest, he released me, causing me to lose my balance and tumble backward. I felt a hammering thud against the top of my head and the trickling of blood down my face before losing consciousness.

When I awoke, disoriented and perplexed, I was lying in the grass covered with leaves and branches, a deep gash to my head and a horribly shattered skull. These injuries would have killed any mortal. Thankfully, I am not a member of that fragile class.

Frank had disappeared and left me here, obviously mistakenly assuming that I was dead. “That little chickenshit!” I yelled with a mix of anger and vengefulness. Not only had that cheap, self-serving asswipe murdered and abandoned me, but, for the coup de grâce, he had astonishingly absconded with my purse and phone. “Grrrrr!”

My initial reaction was to go immediately and find that pathetic coward to torture him – not to death, but to a pain far worse than death. I paused and reconsidered. “These things must be done delicately,” I reminded myself. I drew in a deep breath of cold night air to try and calm my emotions.

The cold, miserable hour-long walk home, my hair matted against my head with dried, gelatinous clumps of blood, afforded me the opportunity to consider a multitude of ways to exact retribution upon that vomitous coward. It was honestly a bit therapeutic conjuring images of Frank in various states of pain and dismemberment – and it kept my mind off of the fact that I was freezing my ass off while that rotten bastard was probably cozied up in his warm bed rifling through my purse!

As I trudged my way toward my apartment, fueled by a hot streak of vengeance, I made myself this promise that Frank would suffer profoundly for his evil wrongdoings, but I would not allow myself to act without careful planning. I would at length avenge Frank’s murderous act of carnage and betrayal, but with impunity and in a manner designed to bring Frank the maximum degree of prolonged suffering in measured portions.

I was relieved to discover my apartment door unlocked. Did Frank let himself in? What was he up to? I crept in slowly, not really knowing quite what to expect. Nothing seemed amiss. I was surprised, however, to find that my purse, keys and phone were staged neatly on my kitchen counter.

Thirteen missed messages and two missed calls. Both of the calls and all of the text messages, save one, were from my sister. The lone other message was a curious text from Frank:

10:49 p.m.

“Thanks for a wonderful evening. 😊 See u Monday at work.”

What kind of a ruse was Frank trying to cast? This message was sent after the incident in the woods.

“Oh, I am going to derive great pleasure from this,” I resolved aloud, unable to subdue a sinister smile. “Mark my words: Frank is going to regret the day he met me!”

“I’ll let this fester all weekend,” I decided. Frank will be squirming with nervous energy and pissing himself by Monday morning!”

I only wish I could have spent the remainder of the weekend as a fly on Frank’s wall to fancy his stages of nausea as he came to terms with his pending demise.

With the arrival of Monday morning, I was unable to constrain my eager ebullience. I donned a pair of high heels, pursed my red-glossed lips together with a loud smack and beamed a devious smile of resolute joy, announcing “Showtime!”

I circled the lot twice before I noticed Frank’s pitiful granny-car, then I waited in my vehicle to make a last-minute grand entrance. I was almost giddy as I made my way into the office. I wondered what Frank would have to say for himself.

Teresa spotted me as I rounded the corner, and she was brimming with questions. I tried to keep my answers short and sweet, but I gave her a sly wink, and I think she understood the gesture. Teresa leaned in for a hug and whispered in my ear, “we’ll talk.”

As we exchanged smiles, I caught a quick sighting of Frank scurrying like a cockroach toward the breakroom. “Perfect,” I thought aloud, “I’ll corner that bastard and make him sweat!”

Frank had his back to the door as I sashayed in. “Hello, Frank.”

Frank’s voice shook more than that of a prepubescent teenage boy. “Hey, Linda,” he finally choked out, almost as more of a question than a greeting.

I tapped my fingers on the counter as I edged my way toward him. “Frank, I know what you did,” I whispered in his ear, brushing past him. “No deed shall go unpunished!” I drummed my fingers across his back.

Frank was struggling for words. “I never meant to . . . I thought you were dead. I panicked!” Frank muttered as he turned toward me, trying unsuccessfully to make eye contact.

I could no longer contain my excitement, and I let out an exultant snicker as I responded. “Oh, Frank, don’t you get it?” You can’t kill what ain’t livin’ darlin’.”

The color all drained from Frank’s face, and I thought he might pass out. He braced himself against the counter awaiting his impending doom.

“You can run, but you can’t hide, Frank. You have sealed your fate this time. Game. Freaking. On! I am going to derive great pleasure out of your suffering, Frank.”

As I sauntered confidently out of the breakroom, I heard Frank moan in agony.