Clarity In The Wind

by good2begone

The cool breeze coming off the waves of the ocean had a calming effect on her mind as it helped to dry and harden the blood that remained on her face. The voice that whispered from within the wind, before she decided to end her relationship with her husband, was no longer audible, but she waited for further instructions just the same. She couldn’t just leave the body at the bottom of the stairs….what would the neighbors think when they came over for wine tasting tomorrow?

She leaned on the railing of their custom made cabana overlooking the water and reflected back on how she became a willing participant in becoming a widow.

She always knew she would marry into money. Why wouldn’t she? She had learned from an early age to use her “assets” to get what wanted from a man. All she wanted was money. She wasn’t about to end up in the trailer park like the ones she grew up with. She wanted it all, and a man with money could provide it for her.

She used to work as a “stripper”. She honed her skills, kept her body tanned and toned and after 3 years of dedication to her craft she was able to advance to the title of “exotic dancer” at one of high priced gentleman’s clubs.

She found the solution to her monetary dreams a few short weeks into her new job. He had broad shoulders, chiseled facial features and an exotic wallet filled with black plastic gold.

Their relationship started slow. She didn’t want to seem sleazy or greedy for a payday. So she limited her time off work with him to fancy French cuisine dinners and limousine rides along the coast.

She made their first sexual experience memorable by letting him fulfill his every desire. The 25 carat diamond ring was presented to her a short 2 weeks later, as he kneeled in front of her on one knee, none the less.

It was a wedding that even a fairy tale could not surpass. Champagne fountains, orchestra, and a wedding trane that was as long as the eye could see.

Too bad the honeymoon didn’t last as long.

The beatings began shortly after they returned from the private island he used as a vacation spot.

Never to the face. Always where her designer clothes would cover the bruises. He was jealous of the way other men looked at her. He always believed it was her fault. The only gratification from the pain she endured would be from the apology gifts that reminded her of why she married him in the first place. Furs, cars, jewelry, cottage in the Hamptons. Money healed all her wounds.

Until they didn’t any more.

After 5 years of the madness of monetary devotion, she thought she needed a break. She asked if she could retreat to the island for a getaway. He complied with her wish under 1 condition, that she be left without a way off the island. At this point she didn’t care and agreed.

Her first night alone was the first peace she had in years. After a long restful nap, she put on her robe and headed out to the balcony to enjoy the calm of the ocean sounds.

Along with the calm, was the first time she heard the whispering voice.

The voice added to the calm by subtlety blending in with the wind and the incoming tide. Still it’s message was clear.

“A stand must be made….to create the fall….”

She looked around. Someone had to be there. But, the note left by the staff, specifically stated that they were told to vacate the premises before her arrival. She was alone. Except for the voice that bared no form.

By day 3 she knew the voice was right. Solitude and lack of new bruises confirmed the declaration.

She requested that he come for her on the weekend. He agreed but stated that the neighbors from the adjacent island would be by Sunday for brunch and wine. He needed her to be cordial not slutty around his associates or there would be hell to pay.

She prepared for his arrival by spiking his favorite single malt scotch with sleeping pills. She always prepared his drinks. She would begin with the remnants of the old bottle before shifting to the sleepy scotch.

He arrived by way of his helicopter. She heard the engine shut off and was waiting for him in the silk lingerie and robe he had made for her in Greece. It was his favorite.

He entered the chalet and she handed him his drink.

“I’ve missed you.” she said

“Yeah, me too. Looks like you think you are gonna get some tonight.” he replied

“No just wanted to look nice for you. Enjoy your drink and relax.”

“Good. I just want to get drunk anyway. I might have some frustrations to get out later…..I will let you know.”

The new bottle was used for drink 3, 4 and 5.

He went upstairs to change. She followed a few feet behind. After changing into his silk pajamas he began to feel a bit woozy.

“Are you ok, honey….”

“…I….feel….strange…” he slowly replied as he blinked his eyes and tried to shake the feeling off.

“Maybe, you need to lie down.” she said and released a sky smirk.

He wasn’t supposed to see the smirk…but he did and lunged at her.

“You…bitch…you spiked….my drink….after…all I have…done….for you.”

He latched on to the back of her silk gown and began to pull her near. He spun her around and hurled one straight shot to the center of her face. Her eyes immediately watered and blood sprayed out. She broke free and headed out into the hallway. He kept himself upright with the swell of adrenaline gotten from the punch.

She stopped and turned around just as she reached the staircase. He stumbled toward her and said, “Daddy is gonna teach you a lesson you will ne….”

With all the rage she could muster, she pulled back her right leg and kicked forward with all she had. She connected with the money shot, right square to the testicles. As he began to hunch over in pain, she grabbed the back of his pajamas and pushed him toward the staircase.

He stumbled on the first step and tried to regain balance. The pills had taken over. He began to tumble head first down the stairs. He hit the first floor in a crumbled heap and twisted mess.

The breeze picked up slightly. She listened intently for what to do. A whisper invaded her consciousness…

“After the anger subsides….the waters will sooth….”

A burial at sea was the answer.

She began to drag his body out of the house and toward the beach. She knew the small fishing boat would be there. It was his only tie to the happiness he remembered from poverty that he ever kept around. The self made man he was. Now he was self made heap.

It was not easy to drag him. She was not very strong and he was dead weight. But perseverance prevailed and she got him into the small vessel. She tied the anchor around his arm and began to row out to deeper waters.

She rowed until she could row no more. As she threw the anchor into the water the unexpected happened. He had some life left in him. Before the last of the chain pulled him out of the craft, he grabbed her by the forearm and clung tightly. The boat began to sway as the anchor continued in depth and the boat was overturned. They began to sink together under the water. She fought to release his grip. The salty water entered her mouth and lungs. She became free of his grip as he continued to sink. She tried to swim upward with the force she didn’t know she possessed. The more she strikes upward the farther the surface seemed.

As the struggle to live began to wear down she heard the voice, out of the wind and tide and into her head…

“A stand must be made….to create the fall…..after the anger subsides….the water will sooth….the sins of them all….”

She ceased fighting and sank to her husbands side, where they laid together in peace for the first time….in a long time.