A Mind is a Terrible Thing

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Pete Townshend: "No one knows what it's like to feel these feelings, like I do, and I blame you!"

+ + + +

I sat on the swing watching a spider build its web. The sun was several minutes away from starting a new day. This spider had chosen the bottom of the children's slide in the community park. Back and forth it went across the exit point of the slide. Almost four inches tall and eighteen inches across. An engineering marvel. I admired the completed web. Such a complex creation built in one night. Isn't it amazing what can be accomplished if you remove the spreadsheet pushers from a project?

The first child down the slide would test the spider's handiwork. You have to have a plan. The spider did and he only needed it to work once to dine like a king for the rest of his life. Alright, maybe his plan had some holes in it, but hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

"I'm rooting for you buddy. My plan is about as ridiculous as yours, but I've got a plan too!"

Only the spiders and crickets heard my voice. Today was Monday and it was day one of my plan. If things worked as planned, some night soon we would see the last domino fall.

+ + + +

My name is Blake Folle. I married Shauna soon after we graduated from the University of Michigan. We both found work in the suburbs of Detroit. Our past is unspectacularly boring. The typical college students find each other, tried others, then found our way back to each other.

I'm somewhat insecure and that leads me into the land of jealousy. I can be a real asshole to Shauna. If I don't like how she dresses or acts in public, I blast her, sometimes in public. It's not like she doesn't know where I'm coming from. We talked endlessly about actions and consequences. In spite of my shortcomings, Shauna agreed to marry me.

No problems, right? I wish.

+ + + +

Shauna and I are avid pistol shooters. We've taken all of the courses. The Defensive Pistol Courses, the NRA Basic Pistol Course, and the courses required to acquire a Concealed Carry Permit.

We do the shooting tournaments at the indoor range. Shauna has won the Annie Oakley award, which is the best female shooter, more than once. I'm not bad, but not nearly as good as she is.

There are mostly great areas to live in the suburbs of Detroit. There are a few where I rest a little easier knowing she is armed and capable.

We still attend many UM games, football, basketball, and baseball. I played all three sports in high school but focused on my studies once in college. Well that and the fact that I'm nowhere near talented enough to compete at the collegiate level.

+ + + +

The previous Thursday:

"Aw shit, it'll take me forever to get home!"

I perked up as Greg, my co-worker, slammed his fist down on his desk.

"How do you know that Greg?"

"I'm looking at the traffic cam at the junction of highways 7 and 82. There's a pickup truck on its side and a car on its top. No way is that going to be open tonight. You should see this."

I wandered the path from my cubicle to Greg's cubicle and gazed at the screen on his notebook. My stomach cramped. Standing with the paramedics, gauze wrapped around her skull, was Shauna. At least I think it's her. She has a very distinctive tattooed left arm from the shoulder to the wrist. The people on the cam were a little too small to confirm my suspicions. Apparently her flight to Chicago left without her yesterday.

The truck on its side was familiar to me. I just couldn't put a name with it.

"Can you get snapshots of that crash?"

"Only until I change cams. I can save the video from the time I started watching this cam. You can create snapshots from it. What has your interest?"

"I think I recognize that truck. I need to search my memory banks, but I know I know it."

+ + + +

Greg captured the video and emailed it to me. After zooming in on the frame, I'm almost positive that's Shauna. The phone call last night was complete bullshit.

'Uneventful flight.' 'Nice room.' 'Meetings went well.' 'Miss you.' 'Busy day tomorrow.' 'Late flight, don't wait up for me.'

I was completely distracted on my drive home. What kind of fool have I been played for? How is it that I know that truck? I went through the whole cast of characters: close friends, family, neighbors. Not even a hint of a match. The blue and yellow stripes on the truck haunted me. Who is it?

Shauna's call came around 7 pm. I let it go to messages.

'Hi babe. Bad news. My cab to the airport was in an accident. I'm okay but I did sustain a gash across my forehead. Long story short, I missed my flight. I'll let you know when I know. Love you. Call me.'

My heart hasn't stopped racing since I first saw that picture. The complete betrayal has my stomach in knots and flames shooting out of my ears.

+ + + +

Try as I might I couldn't eat. The emotions unfolding were killing me. Having realized my marriage is a sham I wanted revenge, on both Shauna and her lover.

I spent the next few hours going through the house. Trying to find something, but not knowing what I'm looking for, was frustrating. Simmering rage fueled my search. Nothing caught my eye.

My next step was to go through our credit card statements. Since Shauna travels at least twice a month I figured there had to be some kind of slip up in her purchases. In a sense I was right. Crosschecking her travels with her credit card usage, every other month one of the trips had no credit card usage. On those trips the only charge was for the parking lot at the airport. She uses her business credit card for tickets, hotels, and rides. Everything else is put on her personal card and she submits an expense report. I'm supposed to believe that she paid cash or just didn't eat on those trips?

With what I saw on the traffic cam I knew better. She was taking a two day fuck fest under the guise of a trip. I had to find out with who. Shit! That's a no-brainer. I'll ask for a copy of the traffic accident report. Duh.

Shauna keeps a filing cabinet with her important papers. I wondered if her expense account submissions were in there somewhere. She is so organized it only took a few minutes to locate the appropriate folder. Another minute to confirm that the 'trips' without credit card usage were not being reported on her expense account. I wanted to get drunk but knew better.

Does it matter how long it's been going on? Not really. Hers is a cold calculating betrayal. My revenge will be crafted to match the depth of her deceit. In the divorce, I'll be fair, what choice do I have. She'll get her fifty percent. Pre-nuptial agreement? Yeah right. I wish. She'll get her fifty percent.

Sleep came slowly and coffee was taking longer to get my engine running in the morning. When I turned on my phone there was a message from Shauna that she would be home later today. I went to work without attempting to get back to her.

+ + + +

After scanning the internet for divorce advice, I took stock of our joint accounts. I would need to open an account in my name only. The brokerage account was going to be a little tougher. No way to move positions, so I sold enough to reach the fifty percent mark. I'd come back once those have settled and transfer my half out, when the time was right. The house was virtually under water so there was no need to do anything.

Not wanting to tip my hand, I didn't talk with any of my friends, family, or co-workers about my upcoming divorce.

At lunchtime I acquired a copy of the police report for the accident. No doubt about it now. There she is listed as the injured passenger in the pickup truck. The name of the owner of the truck, Ray Stronzo, was not one I recognized. It still baffled me how I thought I could recognize that stupid truck. At least I had an address of where her lover lived. It was three blocks from where we lived.

A quick online check produced the deed on the address. Lover boy owned it with Jill Stronzo. I'd guess that's his wife. Other webpages I found gave some personal information for both Ray and Jill. It looks like both of them attended the same high school as Shauna.

When Shauna called around quitting time I figured I'd better answer or she'd know something was wrong.

"You're back!"

"I've been trying to call you since last night. Is everything okay?"

"I'm surviving. I did find my phone powered off this morning and again around lunch. I guess I should take it in and get it checked out. How was your trip?"

"It was fine until the cab ride. I'll have to cake the makeup on to hide this cut on my forehead. Take a girl to dinner?"

"Sure, someplace light. I don't have much of an appetite. Choose a place and I'll meet you there."

I took the long way to the restaurant. Driving by the Stronzo residence I did not see the truck out front. There was a flag dangling from the porch that clued me in. A University of Michigan flag. This is the truck we see when we are tailgating at the Michigan football games in Ann Arbor. That's why there are blue and yellow stripes on the truck. We always head to the same area for tailgating and the Stronzos did the same. I just assumed he and his wife were friendly to everyone.

At dinner I tried, I really did, but Shauna could tell something was wrong "Is there something bothering you Blake? You seem really distracted tonight."

"A lot on my mind. Don't let it bother you."

When Shauna started the nightly ritual of makeup removal, I crawled into bed and feigned being asleep. Shauna was naked when she slid into bed and snuggled. All I had to do was imagine Ray's cock in her mouth and I remained limp. She shook me a little but abandoned her amorous advance.

Shauna was sound asleep when I left for work in the morning. I tore through her car and found a cell phone hidden in the back seat cushions. Powering it on and scrolling through the texts solidified if for me. Shauna and Ray have been going at it for months, if not longer.

One text in particular sent me off the deep end. Well kids, I'm not sure what your punishment is going to be, but there will be a price to be paid.

I'm not a violent man. I can't see me doing anything physical to either of them. Some creative thinking was required. I decided an appointment, to talk with an attorney, would be detrimental to the plan I had in mind. I was going to be completely blindsided when she admitted her affair. If my plan comes to fruition, I'd have to act quickly to protect what I could. I bought what I needed and spent the weekend avoiding Shauna.

She wanted to make love on Saturday but it was simply me climbing on, getting off, and quickly falling asleep. Shauna tried again Sunday night, with a slow sensual blow job. After she finished we laid there silently until she tried to get me hard again. I held onto the image of Ray's cock in her mouth and she failed to excite me. Frustrated, she gave up and we drifted off to sleep.

I got up early Monday morning and spent some time in the park. I needed to make certain this was the path I really wanted to take. Thinking back to that text message convinced me to proceed.

+ + + +

Shauna's dilemma:

I thought I had things under control until that phone call. Monday mornings are always a busy time at work. I handle several calls an hour. I jumped on the call when my office phone rang. The caller ID showed 'Private'

"This is Shauna."

"I know what you're doing with Ray. I want in on the action."

The quiet voice was that of a male. The voice had an annoying higher nasal pitch. He disconnected before I could respond.

My mind was racing 'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I've been found out!'

I wasn't myself the rest of the day or that evening. One of our nightly activities was sharing a cup of hot tea. It seems to relax both of us. Blake always fixes it just before bedtime.

Blake seemed concerned "Are you sure you're okay? You're really acting like you're bothered by something tonight."

"I'm fine. Just some stuff at work that's pissing me off. I need to think about other things. Know anything that could keep a girl busy for a while?"

I'd like to say we made love but it seemed more like Blake was fucking me. He wiggled his finger in me a few times, until I started showing wetness, then slam bam and done.

I came to the conclusion that I wasn't going to be blackmailed. I'll wait to see what the response is. I had nightmares about Blake finding out. Talking to myself convinced me to stop seeing Ray anymore.

+ + + +

"This is Shauna."

The same voice as before "Ready to come please me?"

"No I'm not" and this time I hung up.

Not more than a minute later "This is Shauna."

"Both of you snore. You wore a blue teddy last night. You sleep on the right side of the bed. You wore no panties so I got a nice picture of your pussy."

I doubt he heard my gasp as he hung up after he made his statement. I raced down the hall and puked in the first open stall.

There was a small envelope pinned under my windshield wiper when I found my car after work. I cried for thirty minutes after seeing the picture of my pussy that was taken last night. He WAS in my bedroom. I felt violated. What have I gotten myself into?

That night at home I busied myself paying bills and organizing things for taxes. How did he sneak in during the middle of the night? Is this a friend of Ray? Is this an enemy of Ray? It isn't a voice I'm familiar with. I'd remember that annoying sound.

"Blake, do you think we can put a latch on the outside doors?"

"I guess so. What makes you bring that up?"

"Just hearing about recent home break-ins. I don't want someone getting into our house when we're home."

"I'll put in on the honey-do list."

I did not get a good night's sleep. Every little creak that the house made startled me. I struggled to come to life in the morning.

+ + + +

It didn't take long for my nightmare to continue.

"This is Shauna."

The voice I'd been dreading "Nice pair of pajamas last night. No pussy shots for me. Ready to be my sex slave?"

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"You know what I want. Have you ever tried restraints? Your place or mine?"

"Come to my place asshole! I'll blow a hole the size of a tennis ball in your chest!"

There was no response. I asked for, and received, a two hour lunch break. I was a mess. Who can I turn to? I've kept my affair with Ray a secret from everyone. That's not right is it? Everyone except for at least one stalker.

Blake fucked me again. Now I'm wondering if he knows something. He's not acting like it except we aren't making love anymore. Maybe we haven't made love for a long time. I've been so preoccupied with having sex with Ray that I guess I may have let my home love life slip.

Only getting a couple hours of sleep is starting to take its toll on me.

"Blake, I think I'm coming down with something. I'm going to sleep in the guest bedroom so you don't get it."

"No, no, no, with my back I'll move. I like the stiffness of the guest bedroom's bed. I'll sleep there."

"Blake, I've been having some nightmares. I'm going to keep my gun with me at night. Make a lot of noise before coming into the bedroom."

"Will do. I don't need Annie Oakley doing a number on me. Why don't I put a handle that locks on the bedroom door? I'll put it on the honey-do list. Sleep tight."

Now I'm really wondering if Blake knows something. What's this 'Sleep tight' stuff? He always used to end his goodnights with 'Love you!' When was the last time I heard 'Love you'?

After Blake went to the guest bedroom I pushed a chair up against my bedroom door. I put some trinkets on the window sill and slid my gun under Blake's pillow. Hopefully, if my stalker shows up tonight, he'll make enough noise to wake me and I'll blast his ass.

+ + + +

"This is Shauna."

"Well I dropped by but I don't see a hole in my chest. Nice trinkets. I took a few of them. With Blake in the other bedroom maybe I could drug him then you and I can have a lot of fun. That headboard should work just fine for the handcuffs."

He hung up before I could react. I raced home for lunch and, no shit, three of the trinkets were missing. I hurled in my own toilet. What in the hell have I gotten myself into? If I go to the police Blake will find out about my affair. What choice do I have? I have to tell someone. I'm not going to be some stalkers play toy.

Ray wanted to get together this evening but I begged off. I have a burner phone I keep in my car and I use it to communicate with Ray. I told him we need to chill for now. His texts indicated his displeasure with that decision.

I don't know if my stalker found me by following Ray. I'm so scared and confused. Should I just submit to him? Where does it end? Maybe I should tell Blake and get his help.

My poor performance at work has been noticed by my immediate supervisor. I got the standard pep talk. That is so embarrassing. I've never needed one before. I could feel the eyes and hear the snickering as I headed to his office.

I cried for an hour before Blake came home. I cleaned up and put a little fresh makeup on before joining him for dinner.

After stringing some bells on the window and door I felt a little safer. Try sneaking in now pervert!

+ + + +

Friday morning I did my best to be productive. That only lasted until his call.

"This is Shauna."

"Nice touch with the bells. You had me worried for a minute but you slept right through it. Did you see that I emptied your handgun and put the bullets on the window sill? I returned your trinkets too. Ready to wrap those sweet lips around my cock?"

I need Blake. I can't do this alone. If I tell him I may have to do this alone anyway. What a mess. The weekend can't come soon enough. At least he won't be able to torture me at work. Shit, what if he plans on doing something to me this weekend?

I'd been in no mood for sex and Blake was perfectly happy avoiding me. With a trip scheduled for next Wednesday I didn't know whether to take it or cancel it. When is the bastard planning on coming for me? Is he sick enough to follow me on the road?

+ + + +

Blake was sound asleep when I finished my shower on Saturday morning. He never sleeps late. I shook him repeatedly before he groggily came to life. He sat up and look somewhat dumbfounded at me.

"Wow, am I ever out of it today. What time is it?"

"Almost nine. Are you feeling alright?"

Rubbing his neck he flinched "What in the hell. I've got a sore spot on my neck."

I looked and there was a spider bite or similar on his neck.

"Looks like you got bit. Let me get a patch for you."

The rest of the morning was filled with normal weekend chores. Blake headed out for some Jamba Juice around lunch time. My cell phone rang and the caller ID was 'Private'. My mother hides all of her calls so I answered.

"Hello."

"I tried my tranquilizer dart on Blake last night. I see he's still alive so I think we're good to go. I'll bring some KY for your ass."

I hit end. I was shaking and my legs were weak. Try as I might I couldn't contain my stomach. I sprayed half a can of deodorizer to fully hide the evidence. I have to tell Blake. I can't keep this up. I can't tell Blake. I'm so confused. Why did I ever do this?

My head was spinning. All of this drama for what? Some monkey sex. It's not love. Shit, Ray was never that great of a fuck even in high school. What the hell was I thinking to ever get involved with him?

+ + + +

Sunday was no better than Saturday. Every time my phone rang my blood pressure spiked. When I answered the 'Private' call he was there again. Blake was in the backyard working on the mower.

"Hello."

"Times up Shauna. Next time you're alone, you are mine slut" and the connection was gone before I could respond.