The Incident Ch. 01

I felt some of the tension easing as I sat quietly, sipping an outstanding single malt scotch on the rocks, looking over the azure waters of the Caribbean. There was a slight onshore breeze and the sun had just dipped below the horizon slipping the day into an easy, peaceful evening. Another day gone. Over 300 days gone since I arrived in "paradise."

Despite all that had happened, I felt fairly content. Did it all work out as I had planned? Yeah, it did. Did I feel vindicated, has my bitterness abated, has my vengeance been satisfied? No...yeah...shit, I don't know. Whatever, it's now done and it can't be undone so I'm not going to agonize over it.

Oh yeah. You're wondering who am I. Well...my name is Alexander Seagill. Hmm, Seagill is relatively new. My grandparents had come over from the old country and some good soul on Ellis Island had Americanized their name to Seagill. Hey, I shouldn't complain...Slutski would have been a difficult burden.

I let my mind wander for a moment, remembering my grandfolks. They were my mother's parents, my dad's were still in the old country at the time and he never was able to locate them. He gave up after years of trying. I can still see them, my grandpop's bald head with a white fringe and my grandmom's snow white hair pulled back into a bun. I still feel a warmth remembering their unfailing kindness, not only toward me, their only grandchild, but to everyone with whom they came into contact. They lived with us, but died before I reached my teens. But I digress...

Okay, let me tell you my story. My name...oh, yes. You know my name. I was born in 1964, the only child to Maria and Jake Seagill. (Let's forget about that Slutski crap.) My mother was an elementary schoolteacher and my dad was a cop. At the time of my birth he drove around in a patrol car, but it wasn't long before he moved up to the detective squad. No more uniform, no more squad car. By the way, he eventually retired as a Captain of Detectives with a very nice pension.

I guess that I was a bit of a disappointment to him. You see I was a sickly kid. Shit, I was always coming down with something, from measles to mumps, chicken pox, scarlet fever, so forth and so on. If it was around, I caught it. I was undersized and skinny. My mother was always coddling me which pissed my father off no end. He would storm around muttering..."let the kid grow up, for crissake. Don't make a sissy outa him." He was a big man and when he stomped, the whole damn house shook. My mom would always smile gently and murmur, "There's time for that, Jake. There's time..."

Some kind of miracle began to happen the summer before I entered high school. During that summer I shot up 2 inches and by the end of my freshman year I was well over 6 feet. I joined the swimming team and started to put some muscle on that skinny frame. It didn't take long - between the growth spurt and my swimming I developed into a fairly good looking, well developed kid.

Oh yeah, the bullies. All throughout elementary school and junior high school I was picked on. I never could understand the why of it; maybe it was just because I was a runt. I can be proud of the fact that I never ran and I always tried to fight back. That must have been funny. All of a sudden, in high school the bullies seemed to have disappeared. Who wanted to fuck with the guy I had turned into? It just confirms what I always thought - bullies are basically cowards. But again, I digress...let me continue.

I graduated from high school with decent grades and got a scholarship to the city university -athletic, not academic. While my grades were decent, I had been too lazy to really buckle down. It was in my junior year when it struck me that I had better give some thought to what I wanted to do with my life after graduation. I was a business major, but that could mean anything if you know anything about that curriculum.

I knew that I liked people, liked being around them, bullshitting, laughing, joking with everyone - and I was good at that. I was a likable schmuck; I liked everyone and everyone liked me. So where did that lead me? Marketing and Sales - that's where. I concentrated on that area in school, graduated, had a great job offer even before graduation and started life after school with a bang. I moved out of my folk's house, got a nice apartment downtown and really started to feel like an adult. Like that's all that it takes.

Girls? Sure, I had my share in high school and college. Never anyone serious. I played the field, had tons of dates, got laid as frequently as I could and moved on. I guess I could be considered fairly good looking. I have black, wavy hair, gray eyes and an easy, friendly manner. Why no steady? Hmm, not sure I can answer that. Maybe I just wasn't ready, or never met anyone that really meant anything beyond a good time. Whatever...

Okay, let me tell you about the job I accepted. I was a sales rep. for a large wholesale manufacturer of office furniture. You know: desks, chairs, conference tables, credenzas, etc. etc. Sounds pretty mundane, right? You want to know why I accepted that job? M-O-N-E-Y. The base salary was excellent and the commission mind blowing. You would just not believe the mark-up, it was like legal robbery. Just as an aside, the first year there I cleared just over 6 figures. Now you know why I took that job.

Anyway - it was on my very first (that's right, my FIRST) sales call that I met her. Jeez. Casey was an new assistant buyer for a retail office supply chain and I had an appointment to see her. Ohh, her name - it was Mara Casey, but everyone just called her Casey. Why? I don't know why - it's not important.

You know what's really funny? She took pity on me; she thought that I was nervous because I was new to sales. Jeez, that still makes me laugh. Oh, she was right, to a degree. I was nervous alright, I was nervous because she blew me away. She was absolutely, fucking, unbelievably gorgeous. Long blond hair, about 5' 5" and she had a body that most women would die for. You want measurements? Grow up, I never bothered to find out, who gave a shit. To me she was perfect - perfect ass, perfect tits, perfect legs and a face as sweet and innocent as a maiden out of a painting by Botticelli, especially with that hair and sparkling blue eyes. Plus, what was just as important, she was intelligent, educated and a ton of fun to be with.

I later discovered that she had just been hired two months prior and had now been given some purchasing responsibility for one store, probably as a test run. Anyway, we clicked. I gave her good prices and she gave me a small order. I made her look good and I got my first sale. Actually, I got more than that - I got a date. Okay, okay, it was just for lunch, but I was walking on air. I think that I fell in love that day. Shit, I used to laugh at that old bromide - love at first sight, but so help me, it can happen. Shit, was I naive, love at first sight, crissake.

It all happened so fast that it still seems like a dream. We dated, she moved in with me and we got married, all within a year. Talk about whirlwind romances - wow, this sure was one. I was 24, Casey was 22. Getting married so quickly certainly had it's dangers. We didn't have much time to really get to know each other very well, but it worked. Our first kid was an accident, happened one evening when we got too worked up. We named him Adam. Casey quit working to be a stay at home mom. I was making more than enough money to allow that. A little over a year later Emily was born. We had the perfect family. Perfect until it wasn't so perfect anymore.

********************

"Georgie, wanna get me another Laphroaig?" I yelled and held my glass up as the waitress poked her head out of the patio doors. My bar bill was going to bite me in the ass, but fuck it, I was far from broke and I really liked this place. It was within reasonable walking distance from my small place and I loved the name: Rick's Americaine. I laughed my ass off when I saw that. Rick's Americaine, a fairly decent restaurant and lounge that in fact belonged to Charley Coombs, who at 6' 6"and well over 300 pounds, no way resembled Bogie.

"Sure, Alex. Be right back," she said as I admired the way her hips swayed as she walked away. Hey, I may be 44 but I ain't dead.

"Hello, Alex." The voice came from behind me and I turned my head and saw Reggie Charles at my shoulder.

"Reggie, old buddy. Sit down, take a load off," I said jovially, waving my hand at the other chair at my table. It appeared that I was the only one on the patio and I was enjoying the solitude, but Reggie was always welcome. Let me tell you about Reggie, at least the little that I knew.

Reggie was somewhere in his 60s, hair totally gray, but lean and fit. He had a soldier's bearing, but was not a career military man. He had been a resident on the island for about 4 years or so and we had gotten to be friendly. Reggie had given me a short rundown of his past. His wife had passed suddenly, he found work meaningless, cashed in what he had in England and moved here. Short and sweet. He obviously had enough money to live comfortably and it looked like that's exactly what he was doing - living comfortably.

"It looks like you're becoming a fixture here, Alex. Still drinking that awful swill?"

"Awful? You're a riot, Reg. Best single malt in the world, comes from the UK and you, a Brit, don't even take pride in it, You should be ashamed of yourself and, don't tell me, you're going to order that rotgut bourbon you call nectar, right?" I laughed.

"Absolutely correct, old sod. Maker's Mark, the one thing that convinced me that you savages have come out of the stone age."

Sure enough, Georgie must have seen Reg at my table because there she came with my scotch and Reggie's bourbon. She quickly and efficiently served us and with a wiggle of her hips, departed.

"Ahhhh," muttered Reg, watching her walk away. "To be young again, and..."

"C'mon, Reg. You're not that old. I'm sure that you don't lack for female companionship. You're far from dead," I chuckled.

He looked at me steadily for a moment. "You're quite correct , Alex. I certainly don't lead a monk's existence here, but..." and he paused and then continued, but carefully, I noted.

"What about you, Alex? You've been here almost a year now and you've yet to make a move on any of the ladies, laddie, and I don't think that you're gay. Don't get your nose out of joint, but you must admit that that is just a bit curious."

I let the silence envelope us for long moments. I finally glanced at him and saw him lazily sipping his drink and looking at me quizzically. I sighed and thought to myself, maybe it would do me good to talk about it to someone. Reggie looked like a good listener.

He continued quietly. "It may not look like it to anyone here, Alex, but you're obviously hurting. I see the way you just sit, for hours at a time, looking out to sea. It may help to talk about it. I am far from a professional mental health counselor, but I am a friend and I think that you can use one right now."

I sat still for long moments. I then nodded. "It's a long story, Reg. It's a very long story," I sighed.

"I've got time, Alex. I have all the time in the world," Reggie replied.

My mind drifted back over the years. "I don't where to begin, Reg...damn, it's been so long...so long ago. I guess It all started about 8 years or so into my marriage. Everything was going so damn great. We were in love, we had two great little kids, I had a great job, making a ton of money..." I had to stop, the familiar pain was back. I took a deep breath.

"We had splurged, bought a really nice house in a great, new community. All young couples, mostly like us, married a few years with kids, etc. etc. We got friendly with our neighbors, joined the country club, became part of the "in" group. A group of us would get together about once a month to party at someone's house. We took turns, provided the snacks, the beer and liquor...everyone got babysitters and we would party.

"It was never anything extreme, Reg. Just a bunch of us, maybe anywhere from 6 to 8 couples. We would drink, bullshit, dance... " I stopped again to take a breath. "Most of us had pools in the back and we would come with swim suits and splash in the water. It was all so fuckin' innocent. There was no grab ass, or titty feeling. We were too mature for that. Oh, there was some flirting, some joking around, but nothing outlandish."

My mind drifted back to that summer night and I continued. " It was a Saturday, no one had any worries about getting up early the next morning. The few that had to drive home stayed fairly sober, those who could walk to their houses had no such fears and the liquor flowed pretty freely.

"Theresa Bower, our hostess that evening was slowly getting smashed and her husband, Fred, was not far behind her. She had been prancing around, showing off her new bikini and the other wives were just a little pissed off at her. She had a body that most of the girls envied and all of the guys drooled over. I appreciated it but was more than happy with my wife's body, Terry couldn't hold a candle to it, in my opinion.

"Anyway, what she was almost wearing was a bit more, umm, revealing than the crowd was used to. Shit, the two pieces could fit into your shirt pocket with room left over. She had pretty good sized tits and it was obvious that she didn't have any or at least not much pubic hair. So she was showing off and was certainly getting everyone's attention.

"The evening wore on and the party started to die down. Quite a few couples had already left and I think that there may have been around 6 or 8 of us there, all smashed to one degree or another; all except Casey, my wife. Look, she wasn't an abstainer, and while she did drink she was always careful. She would nurse two or three whatevers throughout the night.

"Of course, I was used to the stuff. Business lunches with clients always included at least a couple of martini's, so I was used to it. Oh, it wasn't as if I craved it or needed it. I just drank for the fun of it, as did almost everyone else there."

I paused, feeling the pain again. I wondered if it would ever leave me. I looked out at the sea again, remembering. "That evening was the beginning of the end, although I didn't really know it at the time.

"As I mentioned, I was three sheets to the wind." I saw the puzzled look in Reggie's eyes and laughed. "I was smashed, Reg. While I was ambulatory, I was still smashed. I remember staggering into the house, through the french doors and into their game room. I had to maneuver past the pool table and I remember wacking myself on the corner of the ping pong table and muttering a curse. I found the bathroom, pulled my trunks down to my knees and with a sigh of relief and let go a stream into the toilet bowl. After a few seconds I finished and shook my dick before I started to pull up my trunks. "

'Wow, what a beautiful piece of man meat, sweetie. Lemme look,' and a hand pulled me around a bit. 'Wow, you put Freddy to shame.'

"I stood there, my mouth open, looking at Terry in that outrageous swim suit. I just stood there, I had no idea what to do. I made a motion to pull my trunks up, but she stopped me. She sank to her knees and to my utter astonishment, she started to suck me. She took my limp dick in her hand and fed it into her mouth before I could even start to comprehend what the hell was going on.

"Well, I'm as human...and as stupid too I guess, as the next guy, and the old peter didn't take long to get hard. Terry was slobbering over it like a starving bitch and I just stood there enjoying whatever the hell she was doing. All of sudden she stood up, lowered the scrap of material that was the bottom of her suit and propped her ass on the vanity. 'C'mon, sweetie. Feed me that dick, I need it.'

"I looked down between her legs and sure enough, no hair. Her pussy was bare and wet, jeez, she was wet. Like an automaton, I just moved forward. She then grabbed my dick and before I knew it we were fucking. I bucked my hips and slid my cock in and out of her, listening to the slurping noises coming from between us. It didn't take long before I felt myself let go and I staggered as I came. Terry must have enjoyed herself because she was clutching my shoulders, shuddering and wailing like some kind of banshee.

"The door then opened and my life changed. Casey, my wife stood there, staring at us, a look of total disbelief on her face. I just looked at her stupidly and for a moment I had no idea of much trouble I was in. The liquor was still befogging my brain and it was difficult to think. I did take note that Casey quickly turned and strode away and it was at that moment that I knew I had fucked up royally.

"I staggered back, then straightened and pulled my trunks up. Terry giggled and patted my cheek. 'Don't worry, sweetie. She'll get over it, it's no big deal.'

"I felt sick, my stomach roiling. I knew better. I knew Casey and I was sure that my immediate future was not going to be fun. I hurried after my wife, but she was long gone. I steeled myself and began to walk home. It felt like it was the last mile. My steps start to lag as I approached the house. There was a light in the living room and I wondered if she was waiting there for me. With a sigh of resignation I mounted the front stairs and entered my home. Casey was sitting in a chair and looked at me as I came into the room.

"I felt my heart constrict and it was difficult to breath. I swear, Reg, I thought that I was having a heart attack. I was petrified. You see, in the past we had spoken about infidelity and we both agreed that it was wrong, hurtful and virtually impossible for a marriage to survive something like that. Casey would become livid about the subject. I didn't want my marriage to end, Reggie. I loved my wife passionately, I adored my kids, I loved my life. I didn't want it to end, especially over something so stupid, over some careless, drunken fuck that I didn't plan or even anticipate."

I looked up at Reggie and I realized that my eyes were wet. I had to stop to catch my breath. After all those years, it still hurt. I still hurt for all the pain that I had caused, for all the grief I had created.

"Take a break, Alex. Catch your breath," murmured Reggie. "Look, you don't have to tell it all now. Let's just sit for a bit. Try to come back to the present. Clear your head, relax."

I leaned back and rested my head on the back of the chair. I felt exhausted and drained. Bringing up all of the old hurt, all of the pain wasn't easy, and yet it was a bit cathartic, as if some of the weight had lessened. Oh, not much, not much at all - but perhaps a little.

"Enough, Reggie. Enough for now. I can't go on right now. Let's postpone this, okay?"

"Of course, Alex," replied Reggie. "I can imagine how painful this must be for you, but I also believe that perhaps it's doing you a little good. We can always continue this at another time. Why not try to get some rest now, laddie. Go home. Go home and try to get some sleep."

I made it home, staggering a little on the way. I locked the door behind me and sat in the darkened living room which was lit somewhat by the ambient outside light. Someone in an adjacent apartment was playing some soft jazz and a female was singing "Skyliner." I absently noticed that it had started to rain, a soft, gentle sound that was background to the music. I roused myself, went into the bathroom, took a sleeping pill and went to bed. I don't remember if I dreamed.

********************

I woke reasonable early the next morning and with few ill effects from the booze I had consumed the previous evening. Say what you will, really good scotch doesn't come back to haunt you the next day, or at least not terribly.