Using Fiction to Alter Reality

I was satisfied, it should work. I just nodded my assent.

"When she leaves, I'll go get Sarah and we can wait for the police."

"The police?"

"Sure. If there is trouble and someone is hurt, the cheaters are going to say it is all our fault. We conspired to make them do whatever it is they are going to do."

I had done some book research into conspiracy for my murder mystery. When two people agree to commit a crime, they are guilty of conspiracy - even if they never commit the crime. "You and I have never planned a crime."

"Absolutely not. We have planned to get three cheaters in a room, together. What they do might even be predictable, but it isn't our plan."

Revenge

<><> Janet Monroe <><>

I'd compare it to baking. You mix the ingredients together, preheat the oven, put it all together - and then, it all happens automatically.

I was glad it was nearly over. Plotting the demise of another poisons you. So why do it? Not plotting their demise is far worse. Dumbass had continued his infidelities and I had smiled. Not my fault he could not see the malevolence in that smile.

What got me the most is I was getting what I deserved. From the first time, when he confessed, I knew this day was coming. It was my choice to end things on my terms. The intervening time was my own purgatory.

My graduation now assured; I could execute the end game.

The ingredients had been gathered and mixed, but I'd never "baked" this cake before. What if it didn't turn out? My potential for success lie in the bad character of two sluts and a dumbass. How could that be? Maybe I'm all foam and no beer.

<><> Ron Ward <><>

Creativity is a gift. I have been using mine to keep my wife from doing me a great injustice. I fear I have crossed the line and am now the one doing the injustice. If Maureen is seriously hurt, or even killed tonight, what will I tell our children?

On the other hand, if I behave as one is taught, I will lose my children and who knows what evil she will tell them about me. My choice was to either be evil and keep my children or to be nice and let evil be done to me. The choice is clear - just not easy.

<><> A Knock at the Door <><>

We were enjoying a pleasant evening at home. Maureen was wanting to be amorous, but I had to make sure we were clothed when we got the 9 pm visitor.

About five 'til the doorbell rang. Maureen was draped on top of me on the couch and said she'd get it. I was close behind her. She opened the door to...

She was greeted by, "You must be the slut."

I moved beside Maureen and looked at Janet. "Janet, what brings you here at this time of night?"

"Ron, did you know you were able to find daycare because your slut of a wife is fucking my dumbass husband?"

"What?" I tried to act surprised.

"Ron don't listen to her. I have no idea what she is talking about."

Janet reached in her pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Maureen's purse, on the hook by the door to the garage started ringing. I got to the purse, opened it, and found her second phone. I could not open it.

"You have two cells, Maureen? And I can't open this one?"

"Ron, I swear, I am not having an affair."

"Then, open the cell phone."

"I really shouldn't, there are secrets in there - uh - from work?"

"Is that a question, Maureen, or a statement?"

Janet spoke up, "You don't need to see her phone, Ron. Everything on this one. Maybe it's not an affair, they plan to get married. You are going to lose your children." Janet and I had decided to throw that in because I knew Maureen would hear it and know my wrath would be sure and certain.

Maureen decided it was time to take the offense, "I'm sorry, Ron. It just happened. Surely, I did not want it to end like this. Maybe I should just go."

I almost smiled but caught myself. "Pack up for a couple of days and get out."

She went up to the bedroom. I closed the front door. I pointed to the family room, Janet handed me her house key, and quietly went and sat in the dark. I stood in the foyer, waiting. Not fifteen minutes later Maureen came down the stairs. She had been crying and was visibly shaking. The paranoia my writing had been building, plus the surprise visit had her far off her game.

I don't know if she thought Janet had left or just forgot about her as she and I exchanged hurting and hurtful looks. "I will file for divorce. I want custody of the children." Was her statement.

I reached down and grabbed her hand and brought it up to chest level, turned it palm up, and placed a key in it. "That is the key to your lover's house. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

"Did you hear what I said?" She was getting forceful.

"Better yet, did you hear what I said. Get the fuck out."

"May I have my phone please?"

"You may not. Sue me. Get the fuck out."

Surprisingly, she turned, picked up her overnight bag, and her purse, and left. I was glad I'd gotten her phone; I was able to see she was carrying her taser. I heard the garage door go up, saw her car back out, and she was off. I closed the garage door and turned on the light in the family room.

"What's new?" said Janet with just a hint of a grin.

"Not much with me. How about you?"

"Oh, you know, same-o, same-o. Pimping for the ex-husband with slut #2 and causing slut #1 to go catch them."

I broke out laughing. "A hell'uva plan, so far. We'll see. Go get Sarah." And she did.

<><> Janet Monroe <><>

I picked up Sarah and brought her back. We set up his guest bedroom so that I could sleep on the king-sized bed with Sarah, surrounded by big pillows. Not ideal, but it would do for a day or two.

I was getting things arranged in our new room when the doorbell rang. I looked for the clock, found one on the bedside table, 12:30 am. I was in wooly pajamas and a light robe. I went to join Ron. I had a baby monitor, so I could hear Sarah sleep.

I came down the steps to find Ron and two, I assume, police detectives in the foyer. Ron was checking their credentials.

"Janet, these are Detectives Collins and Gray. Detectives, this is Janet Monroe."

"Janet Monroe? Are you related to Luther Monroe?"

"By marriage, for a short while more. Why do you ask?"

"Mr. Monroe was taken to the hospital. He was tazed and shot."

"The bastard. Serves him right." my voice was calm.

"That is your husband, Mrs. Monroe. Aren't you curious about his condition?"

"I know his condition. He is a cheating bastard who deserves every dreadful thing that comes his way."

The detectives looked at each other, then took some notes. The silence was awkward, and I suspect, meant to be disconcerting. I looked at Ron, who was sitting with his hands in his lap, looking - bemused. The detectives had their heads down, Ron winked at me.

Detective Gray, who had been questioning me, kept looking down. Detective Collins started in with Ron.

"You don't seem very concerned, either Mr. Ward."

"About what?" Ron dead panned.

"About your wife, for one."

"She clearly is not concerned about me. Why would I be concerned about her?"

"You haven't been told anything about her. You've expressed no concern, no curiosity."

"This is just spit-balling, but my guess is that is because I am neither curious nor concerned."

"What if I told you she was pistol-whipped and is likely cuffed to a hospital bed?"

Ron straightened to his full height. "Look what do you want from me? You two come in here flashing badges and say you have some things to ask me. You don't say you are here to inform me of my wife's injury and arrest. Now you want to know why I am not concerned. Well, now you have me concerned - about you two. You are way out of line."

The detective took that outbreak as if it were nothing, "What if I told you your wife says you are responsible for all this carnage?"

"You got me." Ron said and he laughed. It was more a scoff.

"So, you admit it?" the detective asked.

"Admit what?"

"That you are the cause of the chaos which occurred this evening at Mrs. Monroe's home."

"I have never been to Mrs. Monroe's home. I have never met Mr. Ward. I have no idea why my wife is in cuffs in a hospital bed. How in the good fuck, pardon the colloquialism, am I responsible?"

"Your wife says you made her do it."

"Ah, yes, my mind control ray. I forgot about that."

"Mr. Ward, this is a serious matter. This is a criminal investigation. I suggest you take it more seriously." The detective was shaking a finger in Ron's face.

"I have a better idea. If you have a serious investigation, you take it seriously, and talk to the people involved." Ron shook his finger right back at the detective.

"We can arrest you, Mr. Ward."

"I can sue the city and you, personally, Detective."

The two sat staring at one another.

The Detective Gray broke the silence. "I think we are off on a bad tact. Let me ask this, did you send your wife to the Monroe residence, knowing Mr. Monroe would be there with another lover?"

"Sure." Both Ron and I said, simultaneously.

"And you see no problem with that?"

I jumped in first. "Look, we have been aware of their affair. My husband has told his wife that they will marry. In the meantime, the cheating bastard is fucking anything which blows by. I thought it would be good for the cheating slut, to whom he (pointing at Ron) is married, to know what she was getting into. Call it a selfless public service."

"You gave her your house key?" asked the detective.

"Well, actually, I gave it to Ron, who gave it to her."

"Why did you do that?"

"I no longer need it. She is going to marry the philanderer; she might as well have it."

"You knew she'd use it tonight and catch Mr. Ward and his lover." The detective was leaning forward, like he was about to prove his case.

"Knew? No. I fervently hoped so. Look. I don't know what they, or she, told you, but it is simple. We were hopeful they would c0me face-to-face with their bad deeds. It served them right that they were. If they chose violence - they chose violence."

"Mrs. Ward says she bought the taser because of you." Looking at Ron.

"She bought it because Mr. Monroe wanted her to buy a gun and she hates guns." Ron said.

"How do you know that?"

"It is on his phone." I said holding up the phone.

"We'll need that. It's evidence."

I handed him the phone. I had it backed up onto the cloud, anyway.

"Mr. Ward, the detective said, your wife tells us you wrote a story about a man, who is an author, planning to murder his wife."

"Well, I am in the process of composing a story like that. I am an author."

"She also says she overheard you buying a shotgun."

"Who are you people, really? Overheard me buying a shotgun, from whom? Where? She must have heard me dictating to my computer."

"That's the thing, isn't it. You are an author writing about an author planning to murder his wife. Your wife gets paranoid and buys a weapon. You send her to her future husband, and she shoots him."

Ron laughed, "I hope you are taping this. You want me to feel bad because my wife, a cheating slut, gets guilty because she's a cheating slut. Because of her guilt, she gets paranoid because her author husband is writing a story. Either her guilt or her paranoia causes her to hurt her lover - which is my fault; in her opinion. Is that about right?"

They didn't seem to want to answer that rhetorical question. After a pause, the second detective spoke, "There is the matter of Mr. Monroe's injury." Mrs. Monroe, Mrs. Ward tells us you promised to castrate your husband if you caught him, again."

"I did."

The detective said, "Let me draw the scene for you, if I can. Mrs. Ward entered the Monroe residence, using your key. She went to the master bedroom and found Mr. Monroe and a Ms. Morgan on the bed. He was kneeling behind her. She was on her knees with her face on the bed. They were, were in the act of copulation. Mrs. Ward screamed, grabbed her taser and shot Mr. Ward - shall I say, at the point of joining with Ms. Morgan..."

"Hot damn, I knew she had it in her." Janet's face showed sheer joy.

The detective looked at me and shook his head. "The shock from the taser knocked out both Mr. Ward and Ms. Morgan. Ms. Morgan's hands were secured to either side of the headboard. They were loose enough that she had limited use of her arms. She regained consciousness and reached onto a bedside table, on which Mr. Monroe had placed a handgun."

Ron said, "Maureen was right. Ordinary people get themselves in trouble with handguns."

The detective continued, "Ms. Morgan was pinned under the weight of the unconscious Mr. Monroe, and groggy from being indirectly tazed, herself. She swung the butt of the gun at Mrs. Ward, who by this time was at the bed, beating on the unconscious Mr. Monroe, with a shoe. The gun fired, grazing the outside of Mr. Ward's thigh.

"Mrs. Ward was struck on the side of her face. Her eye is badly swollen, she may be disfigured."

Ron looked relieved, "I can live with that, I hope she can."

"May I ask why you are here, Mrs. Monroe?" one of the detectives asked.

"I plan on living here, temporarily, while we get two divorces underway."

"So, you and Mr. Ward are close, too?"

Ron smiled and I spoke, "Well, we are friends, thrown together by spouses whose vows meant nothing. But so far, that is all we are. I think we both hope it might be more, but time will tell."

"Couldn't have said it better, myself." echoed Ron. He turned and looked at me, and for the first time I saw more than the father of my daughter's friends.

There were a few more questions, but in the end neither officer could see what crime we had conspired to commit. I had advised dumbass not to buy a gun. I even had a recording of that conversation. I also had a recording of our final argument - apparently dumbass said I told him I'd be back, which is why he had the gun out. I never said anything like that. I think dumbass' lie is what got them off our back.

Blended Family

<<Ron Ward>>

We didn't think much about it - we had no plan. The night I kicked Maureen out, we thought it would be easiest on Sarah to spend time in a home. She'd spent a lot of time in ours. Shit! Not ours, there is no more ours. I looked at the clock, 8:30 am. Eight-Thirty!? I never sleep until 8:30.

I got up, put on my robe, and went downstairs. I was half-way down the stairs when I smelled coffee and breakfast. Shortly after that, three little voices giggling and enjoying that breakfast.

I walked into the kitchen and saw Janet sitting with them, her back to me. "Your mom is not going to be here for a while. Sometimes that happens. I know she still loves both of you."

"What about me, Mommy?" asked Sarah.

"Sweetie, it isn't about you and me. This is about Andrea and Ben and their mommy and daddy. Right now, she is not here."

Andrea asked, "Miss Janet, are you going to be here?"

Janet paused, so I spoke up, "Good morning, everybody. Let me see if I can answer your question, Andrea. Janet and Sarah are staying here as our guests. We haven't talked about how long they might stay."

"If Mommy isn't going to be here, she could stay and sleep with you, to keep you company." offered Ben.

"Well, she could. We'll just have to see." I looked at Janet, whose broad smile told me she'd be happy to keep me company.

I thought about Hurricane Katrina. If you lived anywhere in the world, it was a horrible disaster. But if you lived in the path of the hurricane, the disaster was real. Somehow, a conversation about Mommy not being home and Janet keeping me company took on that same kind of meaning. My life was forever different, due to last night.

<< Janet Monroe >>

Sarah was up early. We quickly found out Andrea and Ben were up, too. We went down to get breakfast. It was a little difficult, in a kitchen I didn't know all that well, but I'd spent time in the house on the playdates. We got along fine.

I was thinking through the legal issues in front of Ron and me. Divorces, maybe a criminal conspiracy charge, and most probably civil suits from dumbass and the slut regarding our revenge.

I got a question from Andrea about why I was there and out of nowhere, Ron rescued me. We got everybody fed, cleaned, dressed, and in their spot in the family room, then we started to talk.

"Ron, have you contacted an attorney?"

"Several but can't decide among them."

"I have hired Liz Hansen; she is exceptionally good. Why don't we use the same attorney? There are likely to be many, legal... well, legal hassles which come from this. Our interests are the same, let's pool resources."

"I am lucky you are here. What do you mean several hassles?"

"Ron, the slut, and dumbass have already accused us of causing the mayhem, they are sure to sue. The DA may see this as a case to make himself a name on. Society is big today on not blaming the perpetrator for anything. This will be described as two people hopelessly in love and their evil, jealous spouses, who plot to get them to maim one another."

"Oh my, that has a ring to it. I am not wired for this. I hate to say it, but I am not organized and too often lost in my own world. I care for my family..."

He trailed off, obviously emotional over his wife's predicament and the impact on his family. "Ron, we are a good pair to be going through this together. Don't worry about it."

He straightened himself. The tears never came, "Speaking of which... Why don't you move in here? The bedrooms at the end of the hall share a bath. You could take the larger one and Sarah and Andrea can share the other. Ben can have the room between your bedroom and mine. He won't mind having to cross the hall for his bath."

"You use that room for your writing."

"The office off the foyer has always been Maureen's. You and I can share that. It will be perfect."

"I'd like that. I can help you; I know I can. But I need your support, too. You are extraordinarily strong; you just don't know how strong." He smiled at me. The kind of half smile that means he appreciated what I'd said, even though he thought it a lie.

That made me feel good. One way I knew he'd see the truth of what I said was as I leaned on him for emotional support, and he provided it. He'd know the truth of what I needed and what he gave me. He was the one who told me the greatest gift you can receive is to help those you love.

<<<<>>>>

Suddenly, our lives were just a support system for lawyers. I sued dumbass for divorce. Ron sued slut #1 for divorce. The slut was arrested for assault with intent to do severe bodily harm. Slut #2 sued slut #1 for her injuries and mental distress. Dumbass sued slut #1 for his injuries - it turned out he was now impotent and unlikely ever to get it up again. Dumbass and slut #2 had several suits against one another, but all of those were eventually withdrawn. But the end of the day saw us doing what families do.

"What a day!" I came in the door, exhausted. I spent two hours with our attorney preparing and another two being interviewed by some ADA.

"I hate to say it, but better you than me. How did it go." Ron smiled as he said it and handed me a tall vodka and tonic, with lime.

"Most of my fights were with Liz. She wanted me to shade the fact we tried to get the slut and dumbass together. I told her there is too much evidence on the phones that shows we wanted them together, to be cute about it. Our defense was two people plotting to get three others together is not a conspiracy in any sense. The ADA had to agree, I think that part is behind us."