A Shitty Way to End a Marriage

Okay, by now most of you know I'm out of work for another three weeks. To make my life more fun, my septic tank backed up. Two hundred fifty bucks to pump it. For exercise I've been walking around the neighborhood. I'll be honest, 75% of my neighbors are jerks, but the few I like I'll stop and talk with. I was telling my friend Brian about my septic problems, and come to find it out he was in that line of work for eleven years.

"It's not your tank. Bet you a sixpack of beer your filter is clogged."

I didn't know septic tanks had filters, but they do. Brian explained what I needed to do, then spent twenty minutes telling me about the things he'd found in septic systems. The one that stuck out was a job where he pulled the cover to check the filter, to find it clogged with almost thirty condoms. He said he made a little joke about maybe he needed to toss them in the waste from now on, when suddenly he noticed how pale the guy was. Seems they had never used a condom in eighteen years of marriage.

"How did it turn out?"

"Shit, I don't know. I cleaned the filter, and he wrote me a check. One thing though, when I left he had on a pair of kitchen gloves and was putting all the rubbers in a small bucket."

And away we go.

...

Well, isn't that just wonderful, I thought, as I looked down. Beth came screaming into the living room, saying the toilet exploded. By the looks of it, it had. Knowing very well Beth wouldn't do it, I cleaned the bathroom up, then went outside to check the cleanout plug. As soon as I opened it there was a gush, and I had to go take a shower.

It was Saturday afternoon, and I was wondering how expensive an emergency call was going to be, when Beth marched by me, suitcase in hand.

"I'm going to stay with my sister until you get this fixed. Call me when you get it done."

I went back inside, stripping just inside the back door. Screw this, I'm taking a shower. The water can just flow across the back yard. I thought as the water washed over me about my life. Married eighteen years, one daughter seventeen, away as a counselor at a summer camp, saving every dime for college.

Thought about Beth, and the growing distance between us. Seems I was even more clueless and fumbling now than when we were first married. And sex was history. She was only forty-one, still good looking. Maybe it was a female thing. I'd read about early onset menopause while I was in the doctor's office last month. Maybe that was it. Whatever, her attitude was starting to bleed over to Amy, and the hurt on her face when her mother went off was more than I was willing to bear. We were going to talk when she got home. I'd hit my limit, and honestly, if she didn't like it, I didn't give a shit. I was tired of living in a toxic environment.

Clean, I decided to go out to the pub, get one of those great burgers, maybe have a beer or two. And I'd make sure that if I needed to go, I'd do it there.

I was going out, and saw Gus getting his evening paper. The light bulb went on. Gus used to own a septic tank service. He'd still have contacts, maybe he could get someone over.

I stopped, and we shot the breeze for a few minutes before I got around to my question. He laughed.

"Wanna save two-fifty?"

"Damn right I would. How?"

"I'll bet you the tank isn't full. I think your filter is clogged. All you need to do is clean it out. Tell you what, I'll come by tomorrow after church and show you how to fix it."

I was so happy I invited him and his wife to the pub. They spent the next two hours talking about the strange things they'd pulled out of septic tanks. Seems his wife Mabel was a dispatcher where he worked, and sometimes rode along if nothing was going on. One woman had lost her engagement ring, and she paid to have the whole tank filtered looking for it, only to find it behind a plant on her counter. Another guy followed them to the dump station, seems he thought he was about to be busted, and had dumped eighty thousand dollars worth of cocaine down the toilet. They actually found the cocaine, and he got a nice long jail term.

The next afternoon they were there at one-thirty. We located the cover and pulled it. There was the filter plain as day. Gus had me man the hose as he pulled it. He started grinning about the time it was halfway up.

His wife looked down and giggled.

"I've found your problem, Chad. Might want to toss these in the wastebasket from now on."

I looked at what he was holding. My filter was blocked with condoms. Twenty-three, I found out later. Stupidly, I wondered how a bunch of condoms had managed to find their way into my septic system. Then it hit me how.

My face must have showed something, because Gus and Mabel quit talking for a minute.

"I'm sure there's an explanation, Chad. Maybe you've had guests lately? Or maybe, uh, Amy had some friends over when you weren't there?"

"Really, Mabel? You think I'd have guests over long enough for them to get it on this many times? Or that my seventeen year old daughter is suddenly hosting orgies? No, there is only one explanation here."

They spent another forty-five minutes talking me down before they left. I waited until they left, got some thick rubber gardening gloves, and picked the rubbers up carefully, putting them into a triple layered baggie, then into a plastic container, and putting it into the little freezer in the top of my shop fridge.

Then I went in to the house to think. Fucking Bitch! A lot of things fell into place. We were done. No negotiation, no apologies. Finished. Only one thing stopped me from pulling the trigger. I wanted to know who it was.

I didn't bother to call Beth. Let her stay where she was for awhile. I had plans to make. I spent the rest of the day in my shop.

Amy needed picking up the next day, and I had already put in for a vacation day to do it. It was the first time I'd seen her in seven weeks.

She gave me a tremendous hug, and told me some of the adventures she'd had wrangling eleven year old girls who thought they were twenty. Really, that young? Man, was I getting old.

It wasn't until we were almost home before she asked about her mother. I told her about the septic tank. "So it's fixed?"

"Yes, it's fixed."

"Does Mom know?"

"No, I tried calling last night and this morning. Remember, she was supposed to be with me when I picked you up. We'd planned a whole day of family activities."

Amy pulled out her phone, and called her aunt. "Is Mom there?"

"No honey, your Mom is at work."

"Well then, how come everyone said she was off when I called?"

"Um ,er, um."

"Here's the deal. Mom better call me back, from a company phone, not her cell, in the next twenty minutes. If not, I'll have Dad drive me over to check. And if she blew her own daughter off for some monkey business, this little bird is going to sing to her father. I know things. Twenty minutes."

Thirty minutes later she called, out of breath. "Hi, honey. I'm so glad you're home."

"Yeah, I could tell when you showed up to meet the bus."

"I had something come up."

"I can just bet. Goodbye, Mom."

She called me, ranting about how disrespectful she was. "Well, look who taught her. It will be tomorrow before the tank gets pumped. Amy will be at my parents tonight, if you're interested."

"I won't..."

I hung up and looked at Amy. She sighed.

"You found out then. What are you going to do? And before you go off on me about not telling you, I found out at summer camp. Jenny, my best friend, had a cousin named Toni, who has a boyfriend, Jack, who lives three doors down from us. He told Toni what he'd seen, who told Jenny, and Jenny told me."

"Well, straight from the horse's mouth then. It must be gospel."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, at least towards your daughter. I was going to tell tonight. What are we going to do?"

"You're going to finish high school, having a ball senior year. You will most likely finish in a single parent household. As old as you are, the judge will probably let you pick who you want to live with. I'll respect your decision if it's your mom, just tell me you won't cut me out of your life. What do you think?"

"I think you're a pretty clueless guy most of the time. Of course I'll pick you. I could never manipulate her like I can you. She's spent so little time being with us, even in the same house, I bet she couldn't pick me out of a lineup. But what I really, really need to do right now is get the taste of camp food out of my mouth. I'd kill for a decent pizza or a good burger. So if you want to get to your only child's heart, do it through my stomach."

I took her to the local pizza place, and watched as she destroyed three quarters of a large meat lovers pie with extra cheese. She sat back, burped, and asked me what I was going to do about her mother.

She acted grown up and tough, but I could see the little girl in her eyes. This was going to be hard on us. I took her hand.

"Let me tell you where my priorities are, Andi. First, I have to make absolutely sure I handle this the right way. I need to figure out in the coming months how to minimize the impact of the divorce will be on you. Right now, you are the number one person in my life. I want you safe, and as happy as I can make you. A lot depends on how your mother reacts. You have my promise I'll do my best to keep you from getting caught in the middle. But pumpkin, if what I suspect is true, my marriage to your mother is dead."

It was a surreal conversation to be having with your daughter, but I'd always asked for her input in major family decisions since she was fourteen. Of course, some decisions she couldn't participate in, but I tried to get her involved in everything else. When we needed a car when she was fifteen, even though Mom wanted a sporty little car, she went with me in favor of the SUV. I ended up driving it anyway, hauling Toni and her friends around, and Beth got her little car the next year.

It was me who taught her to reflect before she made a decision, and consider all sides before giving advice. It stood her well, making her a natural leader, and confessor to her group of friends.

"You need to figure out how to keep the house, until I graduate, at least. Then let her have it, if it helps you financially. I'm still going to State, right? The money will be there, won't it?"

I rushed to assure her. "Honey, there's enough in your 529C to get you through the first three years. Even if your mother doesn't help, I'll have plenty of time to come up with the money to pay for your last year. I give you my solemn promise."

We got home, and I left her to unpack her things and think. By now I only wanted to know two things about her mother. How soon we could get divorced, and who's the asshole she's screwing.

...

It was pretty simple, in the end. All the high tech gadgets you can buy on the internet can't beat a good old fashioned deer cam.

Well, maybe I misspoke. The deer cams I borrowed from my brother were state of the art, doing a thirty second video when activated, before going to stills. It gave you a time stamp, and could be programmed to zoom in on activation. They even had audio, but usually they were so far away from their subjects they didn't pick up much.

It took a little brainstorming to figure out how to conceal them, but with the help of my brother I built two birdhouses, each concealing a camera. I put one on a tree by the driveway, that activated whenever someone pulled in, and the other on a pole pointing directly at the front door. I didn't need to see them doing the nasty, it wouldn't matter anyway. She said something smarmy about putting up birdhouses at the end of summer, and I told her it was to let them weather, so the birds would think they were a natural part of the yard.

Of course, I was blowing total smoke, what the hell did I know about how a bird picked a nest? She just shrugged and ignored them.

Here's how it worked. She worked at a company that had flex hours, so two, three times a week she'd take two hours for lunch, working over or coming in early to do her work. Her boyfriend must have worked at the same place. She got to the house thirty minutes before he did, grabbing a sandwich and shedding clothes. He'd show up, they would bump uglies for about thirty minutes, then they would dress and leave, her going back to work, him killing time until he was due back. Sometimes he'd stay at my house, drink one or two of my beers, my home crafted beers a friend supplied me with. I'm surprised I didn't notice. Maybe Toni was right, maybe I really was clueless.

Juvenile as shit, but when I found out, I moved all but one or two out to the shop fridge. They were old style bottles, with ceramic caps and rubber washers, about twenty-four ounces full. I'd take the ones I left in the house, drink about a fourth of them, and fill them up with fresh piss. Then I'd shake them well and put them back. I'd grin like crazy when I'd come home and find an empty on the counter. I could have made him sick, but did I really give a fuck?

About once a week I'd pull the cover off the septic tank and pull the rubbers out. They were busy little bees, averaging twice a session. No wonder she had no enthusiasm for me, she was all fucked out most of the time.

It took me three weeks of careful preparation, but everything was set up and ready to go. I wouldn't let Toni be there when it all came down. Nobody deserved to see a parent humiliated like I intended.

I thought about inviting the neighbors, but then I thought better of it. Instead I set up two video cameras,and started them filming. Brian had an old boombox, that used cassettes. I placed it beside my dresser, where it was barely noticeable.

I tried to time it so the boombox went off just after they were naked. The cassette had been running, empty tape, until it hit the sounds I'd recorded. I tested the sucker, and it was loud.

BOOM! The sound of a shotgun going off and wood splintering. I'd gone to habitat and purchased an old door, that I set up in the woods and shot. As soon as the shot went off, you could hear me screaming. Very little of it was acting, I had a lot of pent up rage, and I turned it loose.

"YOU CHEATING SLUT!" The shotgun went off again. "I'M GONNA BLOW HIS BALLS OFF! THEN I'M GONNA STICK THIS SHOTGUN UP YOUR CHEATING CUNT AND PULL THE TRIGGER UNTIL IT'S EMPTY! HERE I COME, BITCH."

I bet I've watched the scene a hundred times, and still can't help laughing. They came flying out the front door, scrambling to their cars. All he had on was a white shirt, his pants, coat, and tie in his hands. I found his boxers on the bedroom floor later. I stepped around the house and started towards him. He screamed like a girl and jumped into his car. That's when he noticed the gift I'd left him.

I'd taken two five gallon buckets, dipped about four gallons of septic fluid(and a few solids)in each, and divided the rubbers equally. Just before the gun went off inside, I'd poured it onto the driver's seat. Serves the dumbass right for leaving his car unlocked in a strange neighborhood.

It still didn't stop him from hauling ass.

Beth came out screaming. She had a white blouse she was trying to struggle into, bare breasts bouncing wildly. At the same time she was trying to pull her tan skirt up. Apparently I'd gotten to them before they got busy, or he hadn't bothered to remove it, but she had on a white thong. I'd never seen her in a thong. Pouring the rubbers into her car was easy. She locked her car religiously, even at home. But I had a key.

She was fumbling with her keys as I started towards her, before realizing it was unlocked. She jumped in, door open, and tried to crank up. It took about fifteen seconds for it to hit her. Her skirt was still up, and the white thong was no longer white. I stood there, snapping pictures and laughing uncontrollably.

I think it hit her what I'd done. She was screaming at me, struggling to get out of the car. I slammed the door, almost catching her leg.

"Don't even think about getting your shit covered ass out! Better yet, go ahead. I still got the cover off the septic tank. I could drop you in, and close the cover. You could probably last an hour or two, dog paddling, but eventually you'd tire out and just slip under. Now that I know all I have to do is change the filters, it might be twenty more years before I have to have it pumped. By then all that would be left would be a few of the larger bones, and I doubt he'd suck them up in his hose. The more I think about it, the more it appeals to me."

I pulled my set of keys out, to unlock the door. She threw her car in gear, flying backwards. She took out one neighbors' mailbox, and knocked another down. She was flying out of our cul-de-sac at an alarming speed.

"Hey," I yelled, knowing she couldn't hear me, "this is a twenty mile an hour zone. Slow your ass down. This ain't no residential area, this is a neighborhood!"

All right, I was a big Bill Cosby and Richard Pryor fan, before it was revealed what a perverted asshole Bill was in real life and what a druggie Richard had turned into. The line was off an old comedy album my dad had. I can't recall who exactly said it.

I told Toni what I'd done, leaving out a few details, when she got home from school. She was shocked that her old man would do something like that, then she was impressed. "And people wonder who I got my personality from. That's just precious."

"You're not mad about the way I treated your mother?"

"No. you didn't physically hurt her, and she kind of deserved it. Bet she remembers this day for a long, long time. Now come on, and help me pack her stuff up. And be neat! You've already got your revenge."

So we gently packed her clothes, her cosmetics, and her jewelry. When Toni found the sexy underwear, she took scissors and cut everything in two. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

"Mom won't answer the phone," she told me as she came out with the last load. "She's at Aunt Gwen's, I just talked to her. I guess she owes Mom for covering for her little adventures. Too bad Uncle Jack found out anyway. I'll be back in just a bit. You got her on the ropes right now, Dad. Might want to think about changing locks tomorrow."

It was three hours before she came back. "Mom's a wreck. She kept saying over and over it wasn't supposed to be like this.I think she's having some serious buyer's remorse over her choices. If you can believe it, she wants to come home. I convinced her to give you a few days to calm down. Aunt Gwen followed me out, asking if I thought you could get past this and take her back. I just grinned and got in my car."

I was still in full pain mode, and had her served at work. Gwen had to come and get her. Striking first, I got temporary custody. Even though I threatened to show everyone my tape, she fought the divorce and got the judge to order counseling. I was bitterly opposed, but my lawyer told me to suck it up and play along. Eight sessions. To my surprise, I kind of enjoyed parts of it.

The woman we drew was our age, moderately attractive, well built. I noticed she had no ring.

The very first session she asked us what we hoped to get out of the sessions. Beth went first.

"I want my husband and daughter back. I want to go home, and rebuild our marriage." I kept a straight face. Then it was my turn.

"I'd tell you this is a waste of your time, Ms Turner, but it wouldn't, because whatever the outcome you still get paid. Don't worry. I'll do my very best to remain calm, I'll actually participate to the best of my ability. But there is absolutely no way I would ever want to remain married to Beth. She's blown it, the damage is too deep. What I expect to get out of these sessions is your opinion in writing that this marriage is beyond salvation. So let's begin, shall we?"