Ticket to Ride

As it turned out, the cops arrived at the conclusion that Carson had lost his mind and trashed his own car. He did nothing to make them believe otherwise. I decided he knew that he would incriminate himself with Karen, and the affair would become obvious if he tried. He felt it was less painful to let people think he had a breakdown, or some shitty sushi!

Karen had no desire to visit the ailing Carson and try to cheer him up, I stopped in a day or so after he came home from the hospital. He was in bed and Dottie walked me in to see him.

"Hello, Carson," I grinned. "You have to hurry up and recover so I can kick your ass at golf."

He looked at me for quite some time. I knew he was trying to read my face to see if I had any part in the hell he had been through. I just looked back at him without so much as a blink of an eye.

"Sure, Tim," he finally spoke. "Whatever you want."

It was obvious that he had lost his swagger and confidence. Losing a nut makes a man nervous, I realized. He becomes more cautious, and with reason.

Karen didn't go to work till Tuesday. I took her in because her car was still there. She never tried to explain to me how it came to be there when she was home. She must have noticed that I didn't bother to ask after that first night in the hospital.

I had been trying to decide if I had overreacted and should try to patch things up with Karen. I had a lot of time and effort invested in her. We had a good marriage, I thought, right up to the day Carson fucked her in our bed. Mistakes happen and many marriages have survived hard times.

We were sitting at the kitchen table after work the next day. I was going through the mail when I saw a letter from the hospital. In a nutshell, it stated that Karen had Gonorrhea, and I should see my doctor and be tested. She should begin treatments immediately. I read it twice and handed the letter to Karen.

I realized I shouldn't be surprised. Carson had made a few statements over the years about his varied tastes in women and his appetite for them. I had thought it was talk back then. Now I realized he was telling the truth. He was a real shit. Then I smiled to myself as I remembered he was a one-nutted shit.

Meanwhile, Karen was digesting the information in the letter. I could almost read her mind. There was a chance that I had picked up the disease and given it to her. Or that I had at least been unfaithful and didn't know if I gave it to her. If I were infected, she would be able to accuse me of giving it to her. The joker in that deck was I had never been even close to being unfaithful. If I were infected, it was from my loving wife.

"Well, it looks like you brought more home from one of your trips than you planned on," she sneered. "No wonder you have been sleeping in the spare bedroom!"

With that outburst, my decision was made. She wanted me to be infected so she could play the blame game. It didn't seem to cross her mind that I may have have been faithful. We all tend to attribute our own character traits and logic to others. If we steal, we believe others will steal. The same goes for cheating.

Saturday morning I tossed my negative test results down on the kitchen table in front of Karen. Her hand was trembling as she read the report. Then I tossed another paper in front of her. It explained that I was seeking a divorce.

For the first time in a long time, Karen demonstrated some normal emotion as she pleaded for me to reconsider. She told me she was a victim of Carson's seductive charm, but she loved me, only me.

My cell phone rang and I answered it. Karen stopped bawling while I spoke. It was Dottie.

"Tim, the other day I got a report from the hospital, about why Tim lost a testicle, and other things. I have been tested positive for Gonorrhea. Do you have it, too?" she asked. "Does Karen?"

I considered for a moment and decided Dottie had a right to know.

"No, Dottie, I don't. Karen does, though. Hell of a thing, isn't it?" I asked as I answered her question.

"Yeah, a real fucking coincidence, Tim!" said Dottie. "I am getting treated for it, and I am removing myself from the cause. I'm divorcing that single-nutted bastard. By the way, Tim, do you happen to own a pellet gun?"

"I have to go pack, Dottie. Good luck," I said as I hung up the phone.