Cremated Wife, a Flash Story

"Put Becky on the phone." I barked into my cellphone.

"Well hello to you too."

"I don't have time for your bullshit. Put Becky on the phone. NOW!"

"No can do Scott. She ran out to the liquor store to buy some wine. She didn't like what I had."

"When did she leave?"

"Hey warden, your wife is entitled to an evening with her only sister without you checking up on her."

"Look you stupid bitch. I just got a call from a Wisconsin State Trooper who said a woman they believe to be Becky was in an accident and was taken by a Flight for Life helicopter to a trauma center. She's not answering her phone. So is my wife with you or is she dying in a hospital in Milwaukee!"

"Oh my God." She began to sob.

"Answer me! Did she drive to Wisconsin?" I screamed into the phone.

I could barely hear Carole answer, "She was going to Cedarburg."

"Cedarburg. Cedarburg! That's in Wisconsin! Why the hell would she be going to Cedarburg?" The answer flashed into my mind before the question left my lips. I didn't think it was possible to feel even angrier.

"She's meeting a friend for dinner."

"Meeting a friend! She's supposed to be spending the night with you!"

I was so enraged I was having trouble paying attention to my driving. Suffice it to say I was the fastest car on the interstate and I weaved through traffic like an all-star running back. "Who the hell is he?"

No answer

"You're her damn alibi. You had to know who." My phone chimed to let me know I had another call.

"That's the hospital. When I call back you better have some answers."

The woman's voice sounded calm and unemotional. It failed to soothe me. "I'm sorry Mr. Bristol but the HIPAA law requires us to establish your identity before we can release any information.

Her voice was replaced by a man's. He had a foreign accent I couldn't place.

"Good evening Mr. Bristol, I'm Doctor Hartford. I won't sugar coat this. Your wife is burned over eighty percent of her body, including her face. Most people who are burned that badly do not survive for more than a few days. She's in surgery right now. The next few hours will be very critical. If you're a praying man, now is the time."

As I raced north on the four lane highway I passed a cluster of emergency vehicles on the shoulder of the road and wondered if that was where the accident occurred. Tears welled up in my It took a few minutes to compose myself before I called Carole.

"Is she going to be okay/"

"You answer my questions first. Who was she meeting?"

Carole's voice quivered with emotion. "Her boss, Mr. Royster."

I thought my heart was going to explode it was beating so fast. I knew he was no good the first time I met him.

"That son of a bitch. Where were they meeting."

"The Suites Hotel in Cedarburg."

"Is she going to be okay?" There was panic in her voice.

"No you stupid bitch. She's not going to be okay. She's going to die a horrible, painful death because you didn't stop her," I screamed. I felt bad about laying all that blame on her but she was convenient. Plus I had no idea how many times she lied to cover up my wife's affair.

Her response was a moan that sounded like it was torn from the gates of hell. I hung up and called a directory assistance operator, "A listing for a residence. Milwaukee Wisconsin, Royster, Dante." I got lucky and he still had a land line. I punched in the numbers. A child answered on the second ring. "Royster residence, Nora speaking."

"Hello Nora." I tried to control the rage in my voice, "May I please speak to your mommy."

"Mommy, phone call!" She shouted into the phone then dropped it. A could hear a woman's voice, "Who is it sweetie?"

"I dunno. Some guy."

"Hello."

"Good evening Mrs. Royster. My name is Hank Bristol. You don't know me but my wife Becky works for your husband. I don't know how to say this but I just found out that your husband and my wife are having an affair."

"That son-of-a-bitch!" She exploded, "I knew it. I told him if he cheated on me again I would cut his dick off and divorce him."

"Here's your chance. He has a room at the Suites Hotel in Cedarburg. He's there all alone because my wife had a traffic accident driving up and is in a hospital.

Norrmally the trip to Milwaukee takes about ninety minutes. I made it in sixty-five. I parked by the emergency room entrance and tried to find someone to help me. I saw an open door and charged in.

There were better than a dozen people in the waiting room. The only woman working had three people standing at her station; two were dripping blood on the floor. They ignored me as I pushed the doors open and plunged into the hospital. I followed the signs to reception.

When I found the front desk a young lady asked who I was there to see. She typed each letter as I spelled my last name then called someone. She spoke in a hushed voice but I could make out her asking if Becky was still alive. She smiled a nervous smile, "I'll have someone here in a minute to take you upstairs."

A young girl, we used to call them candy stripers, walked into the lobby with a serious look on her face. "If you could please come with me Mr. Bristol."

Carole must have spread the word about the accident and my phone hadn't stopped ringing. I ignored every call. "I'm sorry but could you please turn your cell phone off." A state trooper had walked into the room. "Good evening Mr. Bristol. I need to ask you a few questions."

"They estimate you wife was doing at least 75 when she plowed into the subcompact. Her full sized SUV crushed it into a small pile of wreckage. They never had a chance. He showed me a video of the mangled wreckage. The gas tank on the car she crashed into ruptured and exploded into an inferno. I had to sit down. The officer kept talking but I was oblivious to what the words meant. Eventually he stopped talking. I threw up into a wastebasket.

Time dragged by. I tried to stop looking at the damn clock but I still hear it ticking every second as it passed into eternity.

I tried to refocus my thoughts to how I would reign down vengeance on Royster.

Finally, after three hours and fourteen minutes a doctor entered the room; his scrubs had splotches of blood on them. He sat me down and gave me the graphic details. It didn't look good. When he was finished he offered to escort me to her room.

I was more than a little shocked when I saw Becky. Her body was wrapped in something that looked like gauze and tubes and wires made a nest around her. Her head was wrapped up with two little slits where her eyes should have been. I could see tears welling up in the darkness then running down what was left of her cheeks.

It was several minutes before she realized I was standing there, staring at her.

She began to make noises. I think she was trying to say I'm sorry.

"I've spoken with a state trooper. If you live you will be charged with three counts of vehicular manslaughter. The woman you killed was seven months pregnant. She burned to death trying to rescue her two year old son from his car seat. You will also be charged with murdering her unborn child. Impossibly, the pupils of her eyes grew huge. I could see a terror in them as she glimpsed eternity in hell.

A moment later a seizure gripped Becky. Her eyes grew gray. The sound from the machine monitoring her went from a regular beep to an ominous flat tone. All hell broke loose as people flooded into the room trying to wrestle her back from the banks of the River Styx. It was too late she had already paid Charon, the ferryman of Hades, a coin for passage. Becky had left the world of the living and joined that of the dead.